Hell Week

Just a short post today -- "Hell Week" is over!  For the uninitiated, "Hell Week" is the training week that usually falls 2 - 3 weeks prior to race day, where you're at maximum mileage, usually without any rest days...well, Hell Week culminated yesterday with a 20-something mile run, and ended today with my first rest day in what feels like forever.  

Despite my tendonitis fears, everything went perfectly.  I got started late, so ended up running half of it in the dark (which isn't good for me), but I felt great for the entire run.  My pace was a bit off -- 20.12 miles in 2:46.09 (about 8:14/mile), rather than the sub-8 pace I like to keep -- but I felt great the entire race, and even managed a 7:32 mile at mile 19, and 7:46 mile at mile 20.  Even at 8:14, that's still about a 3:35 marathon in Seattle...we're on track, and now...the three words many marathoners (or marathoners-in-training) live for...

IT'S TAPER TIME!

The Forbidden Question

Okay, let's talk running first.  It's going very well -- I've been totally motivated, and have turned in some wicked runs (for me) in the past few weeks.  I did my 18-miler at Burke Lake Park in Virginia, and it was absolutely beautiful...fall colors everywhere.  

I felt great -- it was a bit slow, averaging 8:12, but still on track for about 3:45 at Seattle.  The colors were so great that Pooh and I went back the next day with Monkey...she loved it!

I followed the 18-miler with a good 50-mile week, even turning in a 12-mile run at 7:32 pace...a PR for me!  All ready for the 20+ mile run this weekend -- I'll probably try to hit 22, just to make sure I'm ready for 26.2 in a few weeks.  So, I've been putting in a lot of miles...and am now battling what appears to be some pretty nasty tendonitis in my left Achilles.  I've never had that before, and I'm a little worried that it may put a kink in the Seattle Marathon plans.  Now welcome advice from BlogLand...

So, that's the news from the training side...on the side of the cancer battle, it's been a bit tough lately.  In general, there is a question that is off limits for most cancer patients -- the unmentionable "WHY?"  I stay away from it...it does no good to ponder the question, and the likelihood that you'll ever know the answer is basically zero.  Well, let's just say I've been thinking about it a lot lately -- perhaps due to Monkey, perhaps due to the pending surgery, probably both.  As a man of faith, it's been a subject of frequent prayer...and, for a number of years now, I've thought I know the answer.  What I've been through, what I'm going through, gives me a tremendously powerful testimony that can be used to inspire and motivate people.  It inspires and motivates some to run -- I can count about a dozen people who have run marathons (and more) after hearing my story.  There is at least another dozen people who have been inspired to run or get in shape, though probably not marathons.  More importantly, I think my testimony could perhaps even strengthen the faith of others.  

In all honesty, that's where I've focused most of my testimony...but I'm having trouble reconciling it this time.  Isn't there a "point of diminishing returns" on the power of this kind of testimony?  In other words, is the testimony of someone who has had three brain surgeries really that much more powerful than the testimony of someone who has had only two?  In Biblical terms, thinking of 1 Corinthians 11:23 - 27, would Paul's testimony have been any less powerful if he had been beaten with rods only twice?  Would his testimony have been that much more powerful if he had been stoned twice instead of only once?  I don't think so.  I guess I'm just frustrated because I think my story is inspirational enough with only two surgeries...why go through a third?  What's the point?  If I'm correct, and the reason -- the why -- I'm going through this is to have a powerful testimony to inspire and motivate others, is a third surgery and recovery really necessary to achieve that end?  

Well, enough lamenting...I have to keep my head on straight (yeah, I know...easy joke...).  Now is not the time to get depressed or upset.  Paul also suffered an affliction of some kind, and prayed for it to be removed.  God's answer was simply, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness."  Roger, Boss -- my suffering will somehow glorify You -- and I may not ever know how or why.  It's just...that can be a tough pill to swallow sometimes.  

Central Park and Surgery

One of the joys of being a runner is that you can do it just about anywhere.  Last week, I was a guest speaker at a conference in New York City...and, of course, I brought my running shoes.  We were staying only a few blocks from Central Park, which has some great running routes...so I gave one a try!  The view from the Onassis Reservoir is amazing:

And, from the runner's perspective:

It was a great run -- planned about 6.5, but ended up running 7.2.  It turns out that Central Park is easy to find and easy to run in, but almost impossible to get out of.  I missed my exit no less than three times.  Still, a great run!  I also got my first real long run out of the way last weekend, and did 17.2 miles -- felt outstanding from start to finish, a great sign.  I did the run in 2:17.28, right on 7:58 per mile.  3:45 in Seattle is still looking good!

Unfortunately, it's not all sunny skies and open roads -- from the prior blog you know that I'm on the road to my third surgery.  I'm happy to report that I've successfully fought (for a third time) with the insurance company, and they will cover the full cost of the surgery and the travel.  This is great news -- it means I can go back to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles, to the same surgeon who has done my last two surgeries.  He was recently profiled in a Newsweek article -- pretty fascinating!  It's only a page and definitely worth reading, but feel free to disregard the statistics...I've already beaten all of them ;-).  After getting the insurance approvals, I went ahead and scheduled surgery -- get your calendars out -- I'm going back for brain surgery #3 on December 11th.  Pre-op labs and scans on the 8th, neuro consult on the 10th, and surgery on the 11th.  According to the surgeon, I should be home in time for Christmas!  

In all, we're very happy with the timing, and with the approval to return to the surgeon we know and trust.  Of course, little Monkey had a great time in New York (here at the giant Toys-R-Us Times Square)...
So, we're all set for a third surgery.  I'm running a marathon the week before I go into surgery, and already have another scheduled for six months after surgery...crazy?  Sure...but what do you expect from someone who's had two -- soon three -- lobotomies?  

Here we go again...

Wow!  Where do I start?  Good news and bad news across the board.  First the good news -- no more chemo!  Now, on to the bad news...

As I mentioned in a previous blog, I was accepted into a research program at the National Institutes of Health's National Cancer Institute.  After a few initial interviews, I had my formal in-processing and medical review on Friday.  Here's where I spent much of my time:  

The doctors there are stellar.  Very thorough, very intelligent, and they have a massive wealth of experience and resources.  They spent almost five hours with me, and the bottom line is this -- chemo isn't working.  Starting this Tuesday, I'm back at NIH for another MRI, and on the road to my third craniotomy, where they'll probably remove the entire right frontal lobe.  Surgery hasn't worked, chemo isn't working, so this third surgery will be followed by six weeks of radiation -- the only option we have left.  Pending lots of legwork and insurance paperwork, I'll have surgery at Harvard Medical Center's Dana Farber Cancer Center, with Dr. Peter Black -- one of the most brilliant surgeons on the planet.  Radiation will be here at NIH/NCI.

Now, those of you who know me are acutely aware that this is a serious blow, but it won't slow me down much.  My "therapy" was a good ten-miler today, and I averaged 7:56...not blazing, but fast enough for me.  I'm still on track to run the Seattle Marathon in November, and training is going quite well.  My 14-miler last weekend felt great, and today's ten-miler was a walk (okay, run) in the park.  JD (see my previous post about him) is also doing well, and he and I were both featured in a nice two-page article in Racecenter Northwest Magazine this month -- if you're in the USATF Northwest region, pick up a copy and turn to page 50!  

So, how do I feel about it?  It's strange how many people ask me that question, and I'm never sure how to answer.  Yeah, it sucks.  No, it's not what I want to do.  No, it's not the news I was hoping for.  Yes, I fear for my life and for my family.  What do they expect me to say?  But, you can't dwell on those thoughts.  You have to keep living.  You have to press on.  In the words of Paul, embroidered into the shoes in which I ran my first marathon, we must "run with perseverance the race marked out before us."  I've been here before.  I've come through two prior brain surgeries.  I'll come through again, have no fear.  I'd love to power through in time to run the inaugural Rock-n-Roll Seattle Marathon in June.  Here's a challenge to all the bloggers out there -- if I make it, care to join me?  

The Youngest Runner...

Okay, I couldn't resist.  I had gotten back from a run and taken off my fuel belt while stretching on the floor next to Monkey.  Fascinated by my fuel belt, she just had to investigate...

I'm afraid I just couldn't resist taking off my hat and putting it on her head...

Welcome Little Monkey, the newest member of the running community!

Feeling Fragile

I'm tempted to start with another apology for it being so long since my last post, but I have a feeling that's getting old...so I won't bother.

Wow, it's been a tough month!  The last two rounds of chemotherapy  have really hit me hard, and made me quite sick...so, going into this last round (#9), I wasn't really looking forward to it (am I ever, really?).  To make matters worse, I picked up a stomach virus two days before starting chemo, so I entered the chemo treatment barely recovered from a nasty bug...what I'm saying is that I wimped out.  I only completed four of the five rounds of chemotherapy.  It's the first time, in 21 rounds of chemotherapy over two years, that I've ever failed to complete a round.  I had been physically sick off and on for two months, and seriously ill for four or five days before and during chemo...and well, I just...ran out.  Ran out of everything.  Stamina, the will and desire to fight it, physical strength...but it was mostly mental.  I looked at my last dose of chemotherapy on Thursday night, having been sick for days, knowing the last dose would make me even more sick, and just couldn't do it.  I tried a new anti-nausea med (phenergan), and it knocked me out like nothing has ever done...literally, I took one about 9:30am when I was feeling sick, and woke up eleven hours later.  Somehow, Pooh tells me we went to the mall and had a burger, but I don't remember much of it.  Crazy...but I didn't get sick, so I suppose it did it's job.   

I'm always amazed by how many people tell me how "strong" they think I am.  But in this blog -- more venting than anything else -- I sure don't feel it.  On the contrary, I feel extremely fragile.  More fragile than I think I've ever felt in this whole process.  I feel weak, sick, tired, and run down.  There are interesting ironies here, by the way -- isn't it ironic that a runner "ran out" of strength and feels "run down"?  That might be worth a blog sometime...how our language has developed metaphors for fatigue focused on running...hmmm...

But I digress.  As I'm learning to expect, the blogger community stepped up BIG...during three weeks of blog silence, I got messages on voicemail, e-mail, Facebook, even comments through this blog, all checking in to make sure I was doing okay.  To answer everyone who so kindly thought of me -- I'm okay.  But that's about it.  Seattle Marathon training is going well, and believe it or not I've only missed two cross-training days (and no runs) in the last two months of off-and-on illness.  10-mile run planned for this weekend, and I feel up to it.  Pooh, Monkey, and running remain my solace.  Today, for the first time in a long time, I feel good -- healthy.  Tempo run tomorrow, which is my favorite...and thanks to many of you, I'm ready.  Next blog will be more positive, I promise!  

Symptoms, Side-Effects, Surgeries, and Seattle

Well, it's been quite a month.  Yes, I know it's not even half over...anyway, a few things to share this time around:

SYMPTOMS and SIDE EFFECTS.  Man, chemo has been brutal lately!  Thanks to all my blogger buddies who checked in on me over the last two rounds -- I've completed eight, with four to go!  That's 2/3 of the way through.  Yeah!  Unfortunately, I've gotten sick on the last two rounds...once on Sunday morning, then again this last round on Friday night.  In both cases, I probably should have taken additional anti-emetic medications, but decided not to...and I'm learning that is a BAD decision.  At the same time, it really doesn't make me look forward to the next four rounds.  Which got me thinking...

With everything I've been through fighting this bug called Cancer, I've never had a single symptom.  Not one.  Oh, don't misunderstand -- I've had headaches, nausea, vomiting, constipation, diarrhea, memory loss, blurred and double vision, vertigo, weakness, and fatigue -- but every one of those were caused by either brain surgery or chemotherapy.  Approaching my tenth year battling cancer, I still have not had a single symptom from the cancer.  This must be the difference between a symptom and side-effect.  I've had side-effects -- just no symptoms. 

So in my case, the "cure" (though it's not one yet) is worse than the disease.  It is extremely difficult to convince myself that chemo and surgeries are necessary, when I don't feel sick.  Now, before you start drafting that e-mail, rest assured that I've tried homeopathic and naturopathic doctors, The Cancer Diet, MangoSteen, Xantha, Acai Berry, Antioxidants, and probably every other "cancer cure" you've read about in the National Enquirer or gotten forwarded to you in a spam e-mail...and without going down a lengthy rabbit hole, let's just say I've settled on conventional medicine.  But that doesn't make it any easier.  Round #9 starts on August 24th...bring it on.

SURGERIES.  Okay, some of you know I had my six-month MRI and follow-up with neuro-oncology and neurosurgery.  Having left California, I'm now being seen at Bethesda Medical Center and/or Walter Reed Medical Center in Maryland.  Both are military hospitals, so that's not ideal...but I have good news:

They're referring me to the National Institutes of Health (NIH) one of the leading research centers in the world.  Specifically, the National Cancer Institute -- that is SO awesome!  I'm so blessed to be able to be seen by some of the greatest physicians on the planet.  Second, more good news -- the cancer showed NO progression!  That's the awesome news we were hoping for.  The chemo appears to be working.  However, it's not all wine and roses...the neurosurgeons here are far more concerned about my condition than the surgeons at Cedars-Sinai, where I've been going for the past nine years.  They were amazed that I had decided to leave a tumor in my brain, and "hope" that it doesn't progress, metastasize, or upgrade.  Dr. Rosen (has anyone seen "Fletch"?) at Bethesda recommended going immediately on a path to another surgery, and removing the tumor.  We talked about it for almost two hours, and he eventually left the decision up to me -- and (see above) with no symptoms from the tumor, no and signs of growth or progression, I have no incentive to go back into surgery.  Is that the right decision?  Who knows.  What do you think?  Surgery has been far more harmful and traumatic to me than the cancer ever has been...so as long as the cancer is contained and I'm asymptomatic, what justification is there for surgery?  Thoughts?  It's a tough one, isn't it?

SEATTLE.  On a lighter note, training for Seattle has begun!  Two weeks ago I started my marathon training for the Seattle Marathon in November.  I'm using the same training plan I used for Big Sur, which worked very well...based loosely on The Penguin's book "Marathoning for Mortals."  If you haven't read it, it's outstanding...even if you don't like the training plans, the commentary and advice is wonderful.  Finally, the Garmin ForeRunner 405 is amazing.  I love it.  Thanks for the advice, Momo -- you were right!  I'm at about 30 - 35 miles per week, averaging about 7:43 per mile...I think 3:45 at Seattle is realistic.  By the way, if you're following the story, I saw JD in Seattle a few weeks ago, and he looks great!  The first time I've seen him since his dramatic weight loss, and he's a completely different person.  And he's already running 10 - 11 miles on his long runs!  He's an inspiration to many, especially ME.  Running in DC is a joy...different from running along the ocean every day, but it's always fun to explore a new town (one of the reasons I never run the same marathon twice).  Isn't that part of the fun?  

Well, that's it for now -- thanks again for all your prayers and support.  For those who asked, Pooh and The Monkey are doing just fine...and as cute as ever...here's proof:

Worth running for?  You bet.  Worth fighting for?  ABSOLUTELY.