I Choose Hope

Sometimes I Can't Make Sense of It

On the heels of getting an email from Jen about her remission, I received a phone call from a newer friend about their recent diagnosis with "some sort of cancer, not sure what yet."  I phoned DK to give him some details about the US Open 2008 Torrey Pines pinflag autographed by Tiger Woods he had won.  He made a ridiculously generous  in support of my marathon fundraising to the Lance Armstrong Foundation to acquire this puppy for his son's 15th birthday, which is today.  (Happy Bday, J!)

We chit chatted about the marathon.  I told him how great it felt to be healthy again, healthy enough to run 26ish miles in one of my favorite cities, to start the race next to my best friend Brandi, to see some of my high school best friends at the 18th mile on 1st Ave, to finish the race with Lance Armstrong in my ears (via iPod Nike+), and to have spent 5.5 hours that day reflecting on all of the gifts in my life.

When we were done talking about me, I said, how are you doing?  He hesitated, and said "Well, it's really interesting that I just donated all of that money to LAF, because I've been diagnosed with some sort of cancer, not sure what yet."  I was speechless.  How can this happen?  It makes no sense.  Like me doing Team In Training 3 times in support of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and raising about $15K -- to ironically end up diagnosed with the disease I was trying to fight.  How bizarre can fate be?  Or cruel?

The thing that made me feel better (yes, weird to feel good about it at all) about getting a disease I had been proactively trying to eliminate -- was that perhaps fate wasn't cruel.  Perhaps fate had given me a chance years before I was diagnosed with cancer to begin paying in to the life saving research and drugs that ultimately did save my life.  Maybe, just maybe that ~$15K took them just over the line to keep going on Rituxan, or any of the CHOP drugs, or radiation, or any of the multiple drugs I was taking.  Since 2001 I have raised nearly $60K in the fight against cancer.  I WON'T STOP THERE.

I shared this with DK and he agreed.  We finished our call with him telling me he was completely determined to "take care of this and get back to business".

So maybe it does in fact make sense.  Sometimes?

DC Jen Bakes Cakes

 

What a great celebration cake!  Congrats, Jen...so happy.  Once Francesca, the Swiss Miss, is back on American soil I think we meet up...

In The Words of U2...It's A Beautiful Day

I've mentioned "DC Jen" on here several times.  Jen is a lovely woman from DC, hence the creative name I gave her - "DC Jen"  - that has been fighting cancer this year.  She had a diagnosis of NHL (non-Hodgkin's lymphoma), just like me.  It was Stage 3, just like me.  She had CHOP +R for her chemotherapy, just like me.  She had about a month of daily radiation, just ilke me.  Lost her hair, etc etc...you know the details.  We shared a lot of stories, challenges, and emails with one another, despite never meeting face to face.

Today, JEN IS IN REMISSION, just like me! Congrats to you, Jen, and to your family/friends that have been through this for you.  I am so happy to hear this delightful news.

You bravely stood up to cancer and I am so proud to call you my friend.  Enjoy the celebration and I can't wait to meet you one day.

amy

NYC Marathon, and Stuff.

This might be a long one.

I was sorting through some of my old emails from last year.  The year of the C.  I saved them because they all expressed some kind of hope to me.   People were hoping for me that I didn't even know.  The emails really did help me through some tough times and it is nice to have them to go back and re-read.  I just happened to rediscover one from my friend Jon.  Originally I met Jon back in 1998 when I was marketing video games in the bay area for a company called Midway.  Jon and his business partner, Rob, knew everything (still do) about what was cool:  music, hip hop culture, fashion, trends, etc..  They were from NYC and seemed to know everything I wished I knew more about.  Over the years, I am so happy they have become more than my business acquaintances, they are now both really great friends of mine, too.

Here is the email I found from Jon over the weekend:

----- Original Message ----
From: Jon Cohen
To: amyebartlett@yahoo.com
Sent: Monday, July 2, 2007 10:02:27 AM
Subject: 

Amy,

I read your recent update. You are an incredible inspiration. Your attitude is amazing. I am a psycho Marathon runner and dedicate my runs to raise money to help eliminate this terrible disease. As most people, sadly, i have had many run ins with it. My mom is a breast cancer survivor. I run one or 2 marathons a year, usually for Fred's Team in which i raise a lot of money for Sloan Kettering in New York. I have raised close to $50K in the last 5 years. 

Keep doing what you are doing, get through this, get through the SF Marathon and next year i expect to see you at the starting line of the NYC Marathon next year.  If you need any running guidance at all don't hesitate to call. 

Jon

I filed that email away and didn't think much about it again.  Jon kept in touch over the months and I told him I signed up for the NYC Marathon in May of this year.  When I re-read this over the weekend, I VIVIDLY remembered receiving it from Jon last summer, and maybe that is what helped spur me on to get signed up.  Who knows, but if you are reading this, Jon - THANK YOU for the encouragement.  Now I need your help to shave off at least 2 min/mile so I can get to under a 5 hour time next year.  You're my marathon sensei.

Which brings me to the NYC Marathon that took place last weekend, November 2nd.  I'll cut to the chase.  I finished it.  My goals were (1) just finish it, (2) when I realize that I WILL finish it, definitely finish in under six hours - which would be at least 20 minutes faster than my last marathon in 2003, ya know, back when I hadn't ever had cancer, (3) at some point when under 6 hours feels achievable, finish it it 5 hours 30 minutes or less.

Someone told me to "run like you are being chased."  I ran like I was being chased...by cancer...so I ran as fast as I could for all 5 hours 45 minutes.  I split the difference of my stretch goal and my realistic goal, and achieved a personal best by 35 minutes.  I was very happy.  I am very happy.

The music in my ears really did help me.  As each song came on, I really did think about and reflect on the person/people that chose that song.  The funniest one of all was from Tara & Mark and imagining them dancing in their living room with their kids to HSM3 (which I had to Google - it is High School Musical 3) "We're All In This Together".  I also laughed a bit at Safety Dance (thanks, Ry!) and of course Keep On by the Brady Bunch got me reminiscent of me and Erika performing that song outside of our EA cubes.  Sorry to out you, EKP.

Brandi and I got our race numbers all sorted out on Friday.  

  That left nothing but time for us to focus on hydrating well and resting.  If only we kept that promise.  Cut to that evening, or early Saturday morning, when we all stumbled in to a cab at 3AM after a long evening of Halloween cocktailing in the Tribeca neighborhood of NYC.  But....GOOD TIMES!  We'll hydrate on Saturday.   Errr.....McDonalds Coke and Fries to kick the hung over feeling, then we were golden.  Such disciplined and trained athletes.

Sunday morning I was proud to put on my LiveSTRONG uniform.  I joked that it was a bumble bee suit, but I really was beaming with pride to wear that shirt, adorned with all of the names of
 the heroes that are cancer patients, survivors, or loved ones lost.  As I was running along the course, people would tap me on the shoulder and give a thumbs up, or say congratulations, or say "I'm also a survivor" which were my favorites.  I even ran with a guy that was doing the race with only one leg.  He is "running" the marathon with crutches and he says to me, "Congratulations, I am so happy for you, what you're doing is amazing..."  Did I mention this comment came from a man with only one leg?  I said, "Thank you, but my gosh, you only have one leg, I am so amazed by you."  And he says to me, "Yeah maybe so, but I never had cancer."  Was I really in a "who is more inspiring" contest this amazing man?  I mean, he totally wins.  HE HAD ONLY ONE LEG!

Props to our #1 Team Captain, Mandi.  Pictured here with Tish and Julie at mile 17.5 on 89th/1st Ave.  It was a welcome sight to see my Yellow Army on the sidelines.  About two miles prior to this moment, I was stopped at the Sloan Kettering Cancer Center.  The woman standing out in front of the center saw "Survivor" on my shirt and stopped me so the crowd could cheer.   She said, "You're the reason we are out here today.  People like you..."  Cue the tears.  

I said goodbye to the girls knowing that I had no more "fans" until it was all over.  I cranked the iPod, headed up to the Bronx and through Harlem, and ultimately rounded a corner where I could see down 5th Avenue, the golden/orange/red trees lining Central Park, and I knew it was almost going to be over.  I had about 4 miles left to savor in this long metaphoric journey.  Bizarre I was a bit sad this magical race would ever have to end.  I was even Facebooking!  (Nerd alert.)

I cruised my final miles in the park with relative ease.  I was aches and pains free except my feet were getting a little tired.  I didn't have any real issues and was still keeping a pretty even pace.  As you all know, I love my Nike+ iPod set up and have bragged on about the athletes that "congratulate" me after a workout where I hit a new milestone or achieve a personal best.  Wasn't it just poetic that as I saw that finish line, my eyes welled up with tears, I clicked "end workout" and as my feet were crossing that finish line, me in my LiveStrong bumble bee costume, I get none other than LANCE ARMSTRONG saying "Congratulations, you've just run your longest distance to date.  Great job!"  Thanks, LANCE!

I DID IT!  And as mentioned at the top of this email, I will do it again next year, close to 5 hours I hope.  The SF 1/2 and the NYC Full will be my events every year as long as I live.  My two favorite cities, ever.  Filled with special memories, friends, and so much hope.

Thanks for your encouragement over the last 1.5 years.  I can safely report that anything is possible in life.  Just when you think you're down and out, you rebound and achieve new goals and dreams.

Love to you all, Amy