Back in the Running Game!

"Don't call it a comeback!"....(Thanks, LL Cool J).

Well, yes, yes you can.  Because that's exactly what it was!

Saturday, May 11 was my entry back into the running world.  I was so excited to participate in the River Bank Run in Grand Rapids.  I did a few races pre-cancer; I had run fairly consistently but usually 3 miles at a time.  Or if you want to get crazy, sometimes I did four miles.  I ran a 5K race, a 10K race, the Reeds Lake triathlon.  But wasn't ever the "legit" runner that I wanted to be.

I knew that I wanted to set some significant goals for myself in 2013;  get in better shape, become a better runner, get some strength (and muscle) back in my arms.  Recovery from my surgery in December 2012 was a perfect motivator to get going again.

But it was meeting Jori that gave me the kick in the pants I needed.

Lacey called me in the middle of March to tell me about Jori.  Lacey, an RN, works with Tina, an RN. Tina was telling Lacey about her cousin, Jori - a 35-year old mother of four, who was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Lacey thought that Jori and I had similar stories and suggested we connect.  Jori and I exchanged a few e-mails and then chatted on the phone.  She had just been diagnosed, after finding a lump while breast-feeding her youngest daughter, Joss. We talked about doctors, procedures, the stress of the diagnosis and treatment plans.  Jori told me that she was getting her PET scan the next day.

I was shocked and stunned when Lacey called two days later to tell me that Jori got the results of her scan.  The cancer was not only in Jori's breast, but she had tumors on her spine.  Her cancer had metastasized to her bones.

Hearing about Jori's diagnosis rocked me to my core.  I was sent back into the time of my own diagnosis...I cried...I was angry...I grieved.  I did not understand how such a beautiful wife and mother of four could be burdened with such a disheartening diagnosis.

Jori and Tim: College Sweethearts and couple for the past 16 years

Judson, Maren, Joss and Evie

I went for a run that weekend - a four mile run - and decided that I needed to take action.  I needed to be there for Jori.  Brian needed to be there for her husband, Tim.  We needed to help provide support to them based on the lessons we learned from our own journey.  But I also wanted to find a way to spread awareness...and do something to let Jori know how loved she is and that no other 35-year old mom of four should ever have to hear the words, "Stage 4" cancer.

And then it clicked.  During our first conversation, Jori shared with me that she was a runner.  She ran for Cedarville College and had run for most of her life.  She had even confirmed with her oncologist that continuing to run would be safe and not do any damage to the tumors on her spine.

So, I would run for Jori.  I would make the River Bank Run 10K my comeback run and run for my friend.  And I would ask my friends to run. And Jori's friends to run.  And we would all run together and be a sea of supporters.

I reached out to BK and his girlfriend, Maya.  The creative genes in the family.  I asked for help.  I needed a logo for Jori.  I wanted something that showed we were fighting behind her. And this is what Maya made:

Is that not the cutest logo EVER?  I love the pink ribbon, I love the boxing gloves, I love the dress.  Maya is so fabulous.

Jori's dear friend, Emily, helped me get going.  We e-mailed everyone we could think of and asked them to join us in Jori's honor.  And while we were doing that, Jori shared with me that SHE would be running the 10K too.  Running the 10K while getting some of the most intense chemotherapy they make.

Oh, okay.

So, if I wasn't motivated before, I became HIGHLY motivated after Jori shared her goals with me.

I dragged Brian into this and convinced him to run too.  And we all started training.  On Saturday, we had over 40 runners as a part of Jori's Fight Club.

And Jori and I were joined by our Survivor Sisters.  Amelia made this her comeback race too - she was diagnosed in March 2011, just like me.  Except she is two years younger than me and also had Stage 4 breast cancer.  But she's another INCREDIBLE fighter and is fighting everyday for the strength and stamina of her pre-cancer self.  And Lori ran with us - it's no biggie - she has run three half-marathons before - all post-cancer.  Lori is about to celebrate her five-year cancer-versary.  She's an inspiration to all of us and where we can be someday too.

Brian, me, Jori and Tim before the start of the 10K

Chris and Emily (my race co-coordinator), Jori and Tim with Jud, Maren and Evie

Tina (Jori's cousin), Jori, Lacey and me - post race - Tina and Lacey connected Jori and me

My Survivor Sisters: me, Amelia, Jori, Hillary and Lori.  Plus, Jud and an excellent photo bomb.

Official Time

Jori received amazing news today - the chemo is working, the tumors are shrinking and she is responding so very well.  But it's Jori's courage...and the strength of Amelia...and the sweet enthusiasm of Lori...and the ever supportive encouragement from Brian...that allowed me to get back into the running game.

I'm so proud of myself for finishing this race.

And I'm doing a fun race next weekend with Gavin - a 5K Color Run.

I'm doing the Crim in Flint in August - my first 10 mile race.

All in preparation for our FANTASTIC Disney Half-Marathon weekend.

I can't wait to run more races...and run with my Survivor Sisters...and run to say, "I did it".  Running is making me feel strong and empowered and confident.  I'm back in the game!

Pink Scars

Today, I'm so proud to share a very special film.

My brother, Bryan, is graduating this year from School of Visual Arts in New York City.  His final project is a documentary that he chose to do on my journey with breast cancer.  This film is a labor of love...
1) how much he loves me for having to listen to my very nasally voice for hours on end and
2) the love that my family showed me through my walk with breast cancer.

I am so honored that BK chose to do his documentary on me.  Not only does it show how resilient a family can be when faced with challenges, but I have this incredible momento of my journey.  I have something to show Evan about what we went through.

My brother is so very talented; from the graphics he used, to the editing of the story, to the camera angles he chose - it's all perfection.  I can't believe I know someone with such extraordinary talents.

We've come a long way.  I'm about 7 years old than my brother and have always adored him.  The age difference has always been enough that we've never really argued but still enjoy spending time with one another.  I have learned a lot about coping with an illness from his guidance; at 8-years old, BK was diagnosed with Type 1 juvenile diabetes.  You would never know it, unless you asked him about it.  He doesn't complain.  It doesn't slow him down.  And he just keeps truckin' - which is EXACTLY what he told me after my diagnosis.

So, if you have some time, take a few minutes to watch his incredible film.  And if you would like to share feedback with this amazing filmmaker, you can send it to kline.bryankline@gmail.com

Here is the link 

https://vimeo.com/m/64855883

Boston on my Mind

Oh my goodness, it's April 19.  I cannot believe I haven't blogged in a month.  I think about it all of the time, but it seems like I have just been busy...and overwhelmed by life.

I would be remiss if I didn't talk about the tragic events of the week.  My heart hurts for the families and loved ones affected.  The unfairness and brutal nature of the attack often causes us to question humanity.  It causes us to question why bad things happen to good people.  It causes us to ask "why".  I certainly don't have the answers to these questions, but know that in times of crisis, we often see the best in people. We see compassion and sincerity and selflessness.  I can't imagine what the people in Boston are going through or how they will manage during the next few days, weeks and months.  When the shooting in Newtown happened in December, all I want to do was hug Evan and hold him tight.  I felt the same thing this week.  Hugs are a little tighter and a little longer.

My dad ran in the Boston Marathon a few years ago, in 2009.  I couldn't go to the race with him, but I was able to track his progress online.  I knew what his pace was, what his qualifying marathon time was and based on his start time, knew exactly when he should finish.

Except he didn't finish at that exact time.

And he didn't finish within a few minutes of that time.  And he didn't finish within ten or fifteen minutes of that time.  I started to panic.

I text my mom and asked if she had heard from my dad.

She hadn't.

I text my Uncle Rick; I knew he was interested in his progress too.  He didn't have any additional information.

I was at work but didn't care at all about what was happening around me.  I was obsessed with looking at the computer and trying to figure out where my dad was.

See, my dad started running marathons in his fifties.  It was like he decided he hadn't had enough physical challenge in his life and so marathoning seemed appropriate.  And he makes it look so EASY.  Just ties up his shoes and runs.  "Oh, hey, I'm going to go for a run...AND RUN 7:30 MILES...AND RUN 26 OF THEM...CAUSE I'M BAD ASS."

But, unbeknownst to many, my dad has atrial fibrillation.  In 2004, it really reach critical status and he went to the ER a few times and had to have his heart "shocked" back into rhythm.  In 2005, he had a procedure at University of Michigan, where they "trapped and zapped" the areas on his heart that caused the a-fib.  An ablation of the heart.  A major procedure that lasted for hours and required a lot of tedious work by a cardiologist.  Eight-years ago, when my dad had this surgery, it was a ground-breaking procedure that was not very common.  Like everything my dad does, he attacked his recovery with vengeance.  He wasn't going to just have a heart procedure and go back to a normal routine.  He was going to go run MARATHONS.

And run he did.

Fast.

Gracefully.

And made it look easy.

So when he wasn't done in 3 hours and 25 minutes, I was surprised.  And when he wasn't done in 3 hours and 40 minutes, I was nervous.  And when he wasn't done in 3 hours and 45 minutes, I was scared.

What if something happened to my dad and he was all alone in Boston?  Who would take care of him? How would we find out?  Why did my mom, sister, brother or I think it was a good idea to pack him up on a plane and go send him to a different state to run 26 MILES?

WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE.

And then he finished.

He finished about 30 minutes later than I expected him too.  Not only does Boston have some major hills in the marathon but my dad had cramping in his legs.  It's not uncommon and certainly all of us have experienced leg cramps before.

But my dad hadn't.

And he doesn't really complain anyway.  So if he does have leg cramps or HEART PROBLEMS, I usually don't know about it until it's over and done.

He said the cramps were so bad it caused him to seriously slow down and almost have to stop.  Of course, he didn't.  My dad doesn't quit anything.  And of course, he wasn't going to quit the most prestigious marathon in the country.

I had tears in my eyes while I waited for him to finish and I'm sure I induced panic in those around me. But he finished.  And he was okay, more or less. And he got on a plane the next day after the marathon and flew back home to my mom.  He keeps running.  He keeps inspiring.  And he keeps moving FAST.

I don't know what the reason is that I am so blessed.  Blessed because my dad ran a marathon in Boston and is safe and sound right now.  And my Lacey ran a marathon in Chicago and she is safe too.  And Ben ran a marathon in Grand Rapids, and he is loving on my Lacey.  And Rick ran a marathon in Tampa...and bumps and bruises and all, he is in one piece and finished that great accomplishment.

Grand Rapids Marathon 2008 - this was the qualifying race for Boston 2009

Who looks this happy at Mile 26?

This has nothing to do with marathons and everything to do with the endurance of the human spirit and physical limits.

In three weeks, many of us will run in the River Bank Run for our beautiful friend, Jori.  Jori is in the middle of some TOUGH cancer treatments...and she is going to run.

And in January, I am running in my first half-marathon - in Disney World!  And I am running with amazing, beautiful men and women that all are cancer-survivors and co-survivors.  I can't wait to high-five Mickey with Cara, Lori and Ross and finish with a view of the Magic Kingdom.

So for friends in Boston...and fellow runners...and the spectators and family and friends that cheer them on....every time I put on my shoes...and go out for that jog....I will continue to think about how blessed I am.  And their spirit and courage will be present while I try to do the great things they were doing.

I'm Not Afraid Anymore (Mostly)

I'm coming up on a very special day - my two-year diagnosis anniversary.  It's on March 11.

It's hard to believe that it's been two years since I got that unbelievable news.  It's still hard for me to process that I was only 29.  And I was 6 1/2 months pregnant.  And it was Stage III.  And I had no idea what would lie ahead.

But it's not a time to remember all of the stunned feelings and tears and shocked expressions.  It's a time for me to rejoice.

And I'm not doing that because I made it through (though, don't mind if I do).  I'm doing it because the weight has finally been lifted - I actually just realized it went away - and I'm NOT AFRAID anymore (mostly).

I'm not scared of my cancer coming back.

I'm not wearing a death sentence on my forehead.

I'm not worried that I will miss Evan's childhood or miss rocking on the porch at my 40th wedding anniversary.

I'm not living in fear of dying.

And the reason is because...I'm finally back to being ME.

I have my hair again.  I have my eyelashes.  I have eyebrows.  I have strength and I can run - I ran six miles last week - with Evan - in a stroller - on THE SAND.  I can lift weights.  I can swim in a pool and I can go shopping and I can play Thomas the Tank Engine for hours.  I can stay focused and pay attention and read books.  All of the things that I did before cancer, I can do again.  EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.

And some things are different - for the better.  I am more aware of what I eat - I make smoothies with kale and ordered a cookbook on clean eating.  I haven't given up Jelly Beans or wine or ice cream, but I'm more conscious that I was before.

I prioritize my marriage.  Brian was always important to me, but he defined the meaning of "my rock" during my diagnosis.  He was married to me for six months before our world fell apart and he got me through.  Brian stood by my side and encouraged me and cried with me and sometimes, he kicked my ass (not literally, though I'm sure the thought crossed his mind).  He made me keep going when I wanted to give up and gave me a lot of reasons to do the hard stuff.

I don't do things that I used to feel obligated to do.  I'm working on my annoying eagerness to please others.  Reading a bad book?  Not going to finish it.  Feel like watching reality TV instead of the History Channel on Sunday night?  Done (although honestly, this never really happened).  My time is valuable and I appreciate doing the things that are important to me - not what I deem others think are important.

So - where did my confidence come from?

I did the hard stuff.  I followed ALL of the doctor's instructions.  I did the chemo.  I did the radiation.  I did the mastectomy - on both sides.  I did the Herceptin.  I'm doing the Tamoxifen.  I attached this aggressively as I possibly could and did it ALL.  I felt like I was dying, I was afraid I was going to die, I saw the look in other people's eyes that they thought I was going to die (that's weird) - and I DIDN'T. I'm alive...so I'm going to LIVE.

So my reward, is not living in fear.  And not focusing on it all of the time.  My cancer took up a presence - a big presence - for two very long years.  It overwhelmed me, it stifled me, and it paralyzed me.  It's had enough of me.  I'm moving on.  So long cancer - I win.  (But just in case you are the vengeful type, I'm just kidding - we can be equals...but I'm the boss).

February! Florida! Fun!

The time approached as it does every year - the Michigan winters - Grand Rapids especially - is so dark, gloomy, cloudy, cold, snowy, icy, depressing, blah blah blah... Every year, Brian and I get the itch to get OUT OF HERE.  (We also begin to second guess why we live here since neither of us ski, ice skate, snowboard, snowshoe, cross-country ski, make snow angels, etc). It's time for the annual pilgrimage to somewhere warm.  Lately, it seems that Brian and I have taken the kids on vacation one year and then rotate a trip in for ourselves - 2013 happened to be family year.  It just so happens that our vacation this year was following a massively sick January/February in the Murray household, so sunny weather seemed exactly what the doctor ordered.

One overwhelming thought prevented me from getting on the plane...

Flying with Evan.  Flying is painful, airports are a drab and security is annoying.  Adding in an energetic, enthusiastic yet stubborn 22-month old seemed like punishment.

But the sun called.  And so did our better judgement.

Flight one...he's somewhat skeptical. And has really short bangs.

This was Hour 2 of sprinting after Evan in the airport...and about 20 elevator rides later. 

Poor little bugger had just gotten over a bought of bronchitis a few days before we left.  The night before we left, I noticed that he had (yuck) all of the symptoms of pink eye.  I paged our amazing pediatrician, he called in eye drops and I was off to the nearest 24-hour pharmacy.  Crisis averted.

Until we got to the airport the next day.  After we had checked through security (and I paid $100 extra for my 62 pound suitcase - what a ripoff), we settled in for our wait.  And then I noticed all of the fluid that had accumulated in Evan's ear.  Due to the tubes in his ears, an infection will drain into the ear canal, but needs to be treated with ear drops.  Paged our physician again (who had to be so happy to hear from me on a Sunday, after already hearing from me on Saturday) who called in ear drops.  I left the airport, went to the pharmacy to grab the goods and headed back.

Let the trip begin.

So considering all of that nonsense, Evan did amazing on the flight.  Gavin and Cohen were great and very excited and safely made it to Remington Beach, Florida after 10 hours of travel.

Brian's parents, Ed and Cindy, rented a house for a month, right across from the beach.  Seeing Evan touch the sand and play in the Gulf for the first time was incredible. The boys had so much fun playing on the beach; seeing such big smiles and belly laughs is good for the soul; something you didn't realize you were missing until you see it.

Evan was hesitant of the sand until he realize it could be thrown/shoveled/kicked/moved.

Busy, busy.

My handsome boogie boarder.

Three little happy boys.

I'd love to share pictures of our whole family together, with Ed and Cindy, but the one night we took them, they didn't turn out.  But the weather was beautiful, the sun was shining and the wine was flowing.  Evan and I ran together on the beach every morning. I started Happy Hour every night at 5:00 pm (with or without companions) and slept until Evan woke up in the morning.  It was the first vacation in years without doctors appointments, surgeries or thoughts of surgery.  It was just time loving my husband, hugging my children and enjoying every moment with my family.

Celebrating Brian's Birthday on a Date Night at The Lobster Pot! (Look how long my hair is getting!)

Cohen eating alligator!  He loved it.

The three of them have such a special bond with each other.

Gavin, Evan and Cohen cuddling with Walter.

Our only family picture from our ENTIRE vacation.

Tricia and her entire family - Jim, Laney, Kylie and Jameson came down to Florida and their trip overlapped with us for a few days. I wish we could have spent more time with them but the second phase of our trip was waiting for us!

Evan and I headed over to Orlando to stay with my mom and dad and Meghan and Michael.  Instead of the beach, we spent time at the pool, visited with fabulous friends and family and had Happy Hour every night at 5:00 pm (no worries - always had companions when drinking with the Klines).

Evan and Nana proved to everyone they are best friends; actually, anytime Nana left the room, Evan followed along.  Evan's also a big fan of Boompa.  Evan actually prefers Nana and Boompa over everyone else (but they didn't want him to sleep in their room!)

I would love to show you how beautiful Meghan and Michael are, or happy group shots of Nana and Boompa with Evan, but again - I didn't take that many pictures.  I'm the worst. It's a good thing I don't have memory issues due to chemotherapy since I took "photographs" in my head - er, wait....

What I came away with is the overwhelming feeling that I am blessed.  I have all that I want in my life - the love of my best friend, healthy, beautiful children and incredible relationships with my family.  We have great jobs that allow us time off and the ability to take our family on vacation.  It's an amazing feeling.

Disclaimer: This feeling did escape me temporarily when Evan had a MAJOR meltdown on the flight home.  HUGE.  For SO LONG.  If I had to guess, he screamed for 40 minutes (but felt like 40 hours).  Huge tears, bright red face, thrashing in the seat we shared.  It was terrible.  So terrible, that I started crying too.  Ohmygoodness.  What freaking disasters.  Could you imagine sitting next to a screaming baby and then seeing his whack-a-doo mom start crying too?  While everyone was outwardly kind/smiling in judgment, I am sure they were thinking that I needed to get it together.  And that was how our trip ended.

The Cuteness

My little bugaboo is finally over his bronchitis/pneumonia.  It took so long and I've never seen him so sick (which is saying a lot because he catches everything and it seems like he has HAD everything - croup, roseola, Fifth Disease, reflux).  He had sky-high temperatures, a terrible cough and just couldn't get enough snuggles...all day and all night.  He lost almost three pounds, so my 21-month old is down to 23 pounds.  We started him on a regimented diet of Pediasure and M&Ms this week (just kidding) (not really) to try to bulk him up a little bit.

Every time Evan is sick, I cannot help but wonder if his lousy immune system is due to the treatment I received during pregnancy.  While most women are focused on not eating deli meat or non-pasturized cheese, I was pumping my body full of toxins.  Breast-feeding was not even a possibility, so Evan was on formula from Day 1.  I know that I didn't have a choice and my chemo enabled me to be here NOW to be a mom to Evan, but it's a tough mental act that plays out in my head.

Day 2, 3, 4 and 5 - Temperature over 104.0 everyday.

Day 6 of being sick:  His eyes are a little sunken but I finally got a smile.

Daddy built Evan an awesome train track; he loved it!

I hope everyone has a Happy Valentine's Day.  I love Valentine's Day.  I know that we should recognize our love for others every single day of the year, but I think one day dedicated to love and kindness and recognition of where our hearts are, is wonderful.

My Valentine's Day morning.  Could this be any cuter?  Hubby shaving and Evy brushing his teeth.  I adore.

Thanksgiving and Photobombs

I pulled out my camera yesterday so I could take some pictures of Evan playing with his train.  As I was thumbing through the memory card, I realized there were some great pictures of Thanksgiving - yes, the one that was two months ago.  I find it so hard to keep all of the balls in the air lately that it's amazing I haven't lost my camera completely.

Getting to use my fancy china.

Made my own centerpiece with glass vases of varying heights and floating candles.

My beautiful sissy and brother.  Evan's godparents.  Evan does not look impressed.

He was on a mission to knock over wine glasses.

Brian's perfectly fried turkey.

Thumbs Up, Turke!

Photobomb #1.

Photobomb #2.

Photobomb #3.

Mood lighting.

All of the goodies.

Evan's little plate of Thanksgiving dinner.

Lots more to catch up on!  Can't wait to tell you about how sick Evan has been; our upcoming trip to Florida and my fears about flying with a toddler; and my new interval training on the treadmill!