Last Dance with the Beast

Short and sweet update:

• I went ahead and signed up for 4 more rounds of chemo – again, tough call … kind of a “hedging our bets” strategy, hoping it helps some – but I can pull out anytime I want if I’m taking a beating – I’ve already got one cycle behind me and just got poked again on Monday – so far, so … okay … I suppose I forgot chemo’s not all fun and games, but we got this – I just need to be smarter about managing diet, sleep, etc.
• I had another scan done in February for a baseline going into chemo … we really didn’t expect to see much change to the big tumor I had proton therapy on in January (not for several months, anyway), but just 19 days after the last radiation treatment, I couldn’t help but notice that big tumor had shrunk by almost 50%!!!!! WOWOWOWOW! I cannot begin to tell you how nice it was to see us take some ground back … what a blessing!

Now, for the important stuff:

I completed the 8-hour Frozen Foot Adventure Race on March 11^th. This one meant a lot to me, as it represented the 20^th consecutive year I’ve done at least one race, and it took place in and around Sky Meadows State Park, which is truly one of my favorite places on the planet. Things got a little sketchy in the weeks leading up to the race, as the director decided to pretty much double the mileage for reasons I can’t explain. I considered dropping to the 4-hour version of the race (see note about being smarter above) as I was 12 days into my first chemo cycle, and I didn’t want to bury myself, but stubbornness got the better of me.

To add to the normal pre-race anxiety, I’d taken The Beast into the shop to get a new chain two days before the race (if you saw The PR movie, you know The Beast … if not, well, let’s just say it’s my bike soulmate). Turns out The Beast is on its final legs. Heartbreaking. Short of the frame, just about everything needs replacing. I was inches away from buying a new bike just to get through the race, when the mechanic brought my trusty sidekick out of a third surgical procedure and said something like, “Well, it won’t be pretty, but it should be good for one final dance.”

The race itself was, I must say, kind of an old-school sufferfest. 30-40 mph gusts all day and not a flat spot on the course. The mileage was a little ridiculous for an 8-hour race, too. But I hooked up with a 3-man team I’m buddies with (that’s you Morga, Lafollette, and Marcus), and we stuck it out together. I also got a HUGE pickmeup when, a few hours in, we showed up at a checkpoint and found Christie, Briton, Mackie, Tegan and the Washkos waiting to greet us (young Graber didn’t ditch his dad, he just had lacrosse games). I gotta say, in all the races over the years, that was a highlight for sure. When all was said and done, we finished in 7 hours 55 minutes (just under the cutoff), bagged 35 outta 45 checkpoints, and covered 44.5 miles … good enough for a middle-of-the-pack finish (well, maybe “middle/towards the back” – I ain’t gettin’ any younger). Regardless of our place, I was pretty damn happy. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve raced that long, for that many miles, or gotten that many checkpoints in quite a number of years. Better yet, I felt “okay” the next day – pretty much just the usual soreness and fatigue.

As I said, this race meant a lot to me, and I’ve thanked God at least a hundred times for watching over me and, in essence, taking over. All things are possible, if they are part of The Plan – it’s that plain and simple.

I also wanted to give thanks to a few folks who have played a huge role in getting me this far, so during the race I wore a different wristband for each of the doctors who have provided me with such compassionate care over the past 2 ½ years. It’s hard to articulate how thankful I am for the blessings God has given me in terms of care. I hope the short video below (taken during the race) shares, in some way, my profound respect, admiration, and gratitude for these doctors and their staff teams.

Until next time, thanks to all for the prayers and support. Peace out!