Monday: 0 run, 1 walk
Wahaneeta Preserve.
Tuesday: 2 walk, 5 run
In the morning I led a crew of five re-painting blazes on Grills Preserves trails, and in the afternoon ran the Clamdigger course with Justin (after measuring and slightly altering start/finish for this year). However, most of my day and thoughts were consumed by an unexpected setback:
Here's the condensed version of my health scare:
About a month ago, several people asked what happened to the top of my head? I had no idea what they were talking about, felt a little embarrassed, and changed the conversation. Once home, I awkwardly arranged mirrors to see what they were talking about. Oh, what indeed is that? A brown mole that I didn't know existed, but apparently had been there for a long time but was now growing and changing shape.
So I went to get it checked out at a local express care and the doctor said it's probably nothing (good!) but better to have it checked out and referred me to a dermatologist. The dermatologist took two biopsies and two weeks later, today was the appointment to get the results and have a full skin exam. The dermatologist came in, was smiling, asking how I was, and I was thinking, great, everything is fine.
And then she said that the tests came back as malignant for melanoma, which she said is the worst kind of skin cancer, and she started talking about surgery and survival rates, but her words suddenly seemed all jumbled now and a cacophony of sounds as I felt light-headed and sank back in the examining chair. I could see her mouth was still moving, but it was like the volume had been turned off as I could no longer hear (or didn't want to hear?) what she was saying.
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| Once she started talking to me about cancer, I was in that classic denial stage and just involuntarily shut down listening to any more details. |
After a while she realized she had lost me and had to start over again. She was very patient with questions and repeating info. My cancer has not metastasized yet, I would be referred to a specialist surgeon today, bumped up in the queue for surgery ASAP, and based on my specific diagnosis, stage, and prescribed surgical technique, the prognosis is excellent with a 5-year survival rate of 99.9%. OK, well that's a little better, but still scary and so much info.
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| This was a lot for me to process. New prescriptions, new (to me) medical terms, imminent surgery. |
I had a long talk with my Mom, and then with each of my two sons and three brothers, as I was asked to notify them all and suggest a skin check-up, as unfortunately there is a hereditary aspect. Naturally, they were all very supportive.
I was stunned and dumb-founded and lay awake that night thinking about it. But then I thought I need to put this in perspective, have a positive attitude, and live my life. I thought about when my father received his own diagnosis of cancer. He was less than two years older than I am right now, but his diagnosis was Stage 4 lung cancer, and he had what I would term a poor quality of life for the next six months (think chemo, hospital stays, oxygen tanks, etc) and then he died, at age 58. 25 years later, I still haven't gotten over losing my father, but that's very different from the cancer I have. I'm going to beat this thing.
Wednesday: 0
Was still processing yesterday's news and thinking about when I can get a run in, when I got a call asking if I could come in to meet with the dermatology surgeon right away. Of course. Suddenly running seems much less important.
My surgery is scheduled for Monday morning (5 days from now), and I learned that my post-surgical restrictions will include no running for about 1.5 weeks and no swimming for 3 months. OK, so I won't be running the Clamdigger after all, but I can still direct it. And if I do make a return to triathlons this year, it won't be until August or later. I can live with all of that, of course. The important thing is I'm going to live.
As much as I'm scared of the surgery, I want the time to go by quickly between now and then. Signed up this evening for a loop trail race this Saturday; run as many loops as you can in 2 hours. Not my type of trail race, but it was a race and would get me out there and get my mind off of this.
Thursday: 8
Matthew is home for a few days, for the first time since Christmas vacation. It was raining and 43° and I probably would've just taken another zero if I were solo. It's good to have a partner in crime. (Although, of course, Brady had no issue at all with going for a run in the cold rain!)
The three of us went for a run in Ninigret, and since almost no one was there due to the rain, I felt comfortable to take Brady onto the Ninigret National Wildlife Service trails, where technically dogs are not allowed (they're allowed in the town owned portions only). The only wildlife Brady disturbed was the overpopulation of many bunnies that he chased.
Friday: 8
Another day of cold rain. High in the upper 30s was less than pleasant for mid-April, but dealt with it and the three of us ran at Bluff Point State Park. Some of the techy trails were a bit slippery and definitely some flooded sections, but I didn't mind those at all.
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| Behind our house in the morning. Yes, those are snowflakes on Brady, on April 16! |
Saturday: 14 run, 2 walk
Ledyard Mini Loop race. Separate write-up.
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| Jana and I doing our part to help out Mother Earth on the start of Earth Day week, plus getting credit for community volunteerism initiatives sponsored by my employer. |
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| Walked for just about a mile out, in our neighborhood and then along Shore Road, picking up discarded crap from thoughtless humans: vodka bottles (yes, plural), beaucoup de nip bottles, cans, plastic, metal, and even an exhaust pipe. |
Sunday: 8 run, 3 walk
Burlingame's Vin Gormley loop with Matthew and Brady, plus tacked on a tiny bit to come to 8 miles exactly instead of 7.64382 miles, because runners are geeky like that. Or, at least some of us are.
At the boat launch, the state has now put the docks back in the water. Surely a harbinger of summer days ahead. In what I initially thought a cruel trick, Matthew ran down the dock with Brady alongside, and that at the very end, Matthew stopped dead while Brady continued, jumped off the dock and went completely underwater in Watchaug Pond. My verdict changed when I could see how happy Brady looked in the water, as he swam back to land and chased after us.
In the afternoon, Jana, Brady, and I joined a group of about 12 (including my Mom and neighbors) in a Westerly Land Trust hike of the closed to the public Crandall Preserve. Easy, flat hike, culminating in conversation over wine and cheese. That was a pretty neat ending!
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| The trail to Wolf Island, where purportedly the last wolf in RI was shot. |
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| Mom (in purple) |
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| Lab wine! |
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| The full gang (minus Brady, who was taking the picture) |
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| And here he is! The challenge was keeping him away from the cheese. |
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| And post hike, a great dinner (I know, you either love sushi or you hate it) to finish out my weekend and nervous waiting. |
Weekly mileage: 44 run, 7 walk
Weekly synopsis: What a whirlwind week. Tuesday learning my skin cancer diagnosis, my thoughts turned to my own mortality. However, while I'm still going to die, it won't be from this! After deeper reflection, education, and speaking with others who have had skin cancer, I got myself into a better place mentally, and while I'm still scared and anxious, I am looking forward to the surgery on a Monday to start to move beyond this.
As to the running, I'm surprised I got as many as 44 miles in. Just about all of that came at the end of the week, where I ran 39 of the miles in the last four days. It certainly helped having Matthew home, plus a trail race, to force me to get out there and focus my mind on other things.
Weekly highlight: The Ledyard trail race. Despite not being my preferred race format of multiple loops, I had a lot of fun out there. Seeing some familiar faces and having mud and water on the course only increased my enjoyment.
Weekly lowlight: My skin cancer diagnosis. As positive as I'm trying to be and as optimistic as I [now] am, I can't spin this in any other way but a setback [even if temporary] and a concern. We just got a letter from our home insurance company saying they were dropping us because of past claims we had filed (isn't that what you have home insurance for?!), and I had an engorged tick in my chest (gross!), but those are just so minor by comparison.
Epilogue: My weekly blog is now written and I'm ready to hit the "Publish" button, but I'm going to hold this entry in draft for another week, until my surgery and post-op has completed, and until the Clamdigger is over. I want to gain a little more confidence, and at the Clamdigger, I want the event to be completely about the runners and not draw any attention to myself.
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