Update …
Morgan Freeman (as in the only actor that can pull off playing Nelson Mandela, the POTUS, and God).
Okay, okay, I guess I gotta give you more than that … I’m thinking of a classic Morgan Freeman scene from the very underrated “the world’s about to end” disaster film Deep Impact. Side note: if you’re gonna watch an asteroid movie, I highly recommend it (this isn’t the silly one with Ben Affleck and Bruce Willis). Anyway, here’s the gist: a big rock is going to hit the earth and kill everyone. Morgan Freeman is the President, of course. We come up with a plan to blow the rock up in space, so we send Robert Duvall, Jon Favreau and some other dudes up there to do the job. Things don’t go so smoothly … Next thing we know, President Freeman is addressing the nation/world in that comforting, deep, velvety voice … Unfortunately, what he has to say isn’t so comforting: “Hello, America. It is my unhappy duty to report to you that the Messiah has failed.” (The Messiah is the bomb or spaceship or whatever we were going to use to blow up the asteroid).
I’m thinking of this scene, because, well, damnit … we found out the week before last that the chemo I’ve been on has failed (I can literally hear Morgan Freeman saying this). As in, it just didn’t work, and the powers that be are pulling me off of it. The good news is that I don’t have to go through chemo anymore. The bad news is that it forces a next step a little sooner than we’d like. The other good news is that most of my tumors are stable, meaning they just aren’t growing much with or without chemo. The other bad news is that there’s one big “asteroid” in my lower left lung that just keeps growing (and so is a smaller, but troublesome bastard in the fat lining my heart).
Have no fear though. After all, the BEST Morgan Freeman role is not as a world leader or the divine. It’s as Red, the old dude who’s spent his whole life in prison, in The Shawshank Redemption. Spoiler alert: he gets out in the end. In the final scene, he’s on a bus telling us how excited he is. “The excitement only a free man can feel. A free man at the start of a long journey, whose conclusion is uncertain.” It’s a pretty melodramatic scene, but it’s a good one—one filled with hope.
These next words matter, so please read on just one more minute. I was out riding my bike this morning and something very important occurred to me about the long journey I’ve been on. When I got home, I found myself in a chat with Christie (lovely wife) and Briton (oldest daughter). It was a casual convo—not too heavy—but C said something about strength, positivity, attitude, etc. with regards to my situation. And right then, the thought I had earlier on the bike took shape in words, and I spat them out without hesitation: “My superpower is not feeling alone.” I don’t know if I’ve ever put together a string of words that were truer. My superpower is not feeling alone. This is saying something coming from a guy who’s chosen to spend a lot of my life in solitude … driving around the country, riding trains, climbing mountains, racing, etc. There was a time when, indeed, I thought I might have been a happy hermit. Of course, my superpower isn’t really a power I’ve developed myself or can even take credit for, at all. It’s a power you have given me. My family. My friends. My community. No doubt, there are plenty of steps on a journey like this that you just have to take on your own. Plenty of places you gotta go where you can’t take your wife, your kids, or your friends. That’s okay. I won’t blink. Because I have a superpower—and if you’re reading this, you gave it to me. Much love and gratitude for that.
Next steps: 1. Get off the canvas (done). 2. Put mouthpiece back in (done). 3. Work out the next play call (working on it … I just fired off a bunch of emails to a bunch of doctors to set up appointments, etc.)
Updates to follow. In the meantime, I’ll still be going for that 5-mile bike sprint PR (came within 8 seconds two weeks ago, but dang, now it’s getting kinda cold) … And I’ll still be pointing to the sky at some point on every ride, thanking God for the moment I’m in.
Happy Thanksgiving to all! Peace out ‘til next time …