It’s ironic that the ironman triathlon at Lake Tahoe that I
was training for when I was diagnosed with prostate cancer (April 30, 2014) was
cancelled due to smoke in the air from the large fire in the Sierra Nevada
Mountains.
Makes me think back to May; when I was struggling on which
treatment to choose.
If I did radiation I wouldn’t have to change my training
schedule much. I could most likely still
be in good enough condition to do the race.
If I did brachytherapy, implant little radioactive “seeds”,
I would have to cut way back but might still be able to do the race as long as
I started treatment soon.
If I did surgery I wouldn’t be able to do the race at
all. I’d be risking serious injury if I
got back on the bike too soon.
Or, if I had listened to the first urologist I talked with,
I could have waited until after the race then begin my treatment.
Then I shut the door.
I made up my mind that I wasn’t going to do the race. (At
least not this year)
I couldn’t let one race cloud my judgment on what treatment
would be best for me in the long run; 5 years, 10 years, 20 years down the
road.
As soon as I made that decision the smoke cleared and I was
able to look at my choices logically without any barriers.
After talking with a radiologist and second urologist I was
100% convinced that robotic surgery was what I needed.
Fast forward to July 30.
Radical Robotic Prostatectomy. It
wasn’t a cakewalk. Going into it I was
hoping that, maybe, because I was in good shape, I’d recover quickly. That all flew out the window after surgery. I was going to take as much time off work as
I needed. I worked at making myself
rest.
Fast forward to six weeks after surgery. My surgeon said that I could start running again six weeks the surgery. (Some doctors say
earlier is ok, but wasn't going to push it.) If I wasn't ready I’d wait seven weeks, or eight weeks; whatever it took until I was ready.
But at six weeks I was able to run 3 miles and felt good.
Fast forward to seven weeks post surgery. I had the support of 30 people walking and
running the Zero Prostate Cancer 5K in San Francisco with me, one day before the ironman in Tahoe was supposed to take place. Looking at it now, I think - no - I KNOW, that
5K means more to me than it would have if I had completed the ironman.
Fast forward to eight weeks post surgery; today. I went back out to Lake Natoma to my usual
weekend long run spot. It was good to be
out doing a long run again. I went out 4
miles with some of the group then turned back as they went further. On the way back that voice I hadn’t heard in weeks
came back at me.
“You call this a run?”
“You’re so weak.”
“You probably can’t even finish this 8 miles.”
All I could do was laugh.
I actually laughed out loud.
Hopefully nobody was watching or they would have thought I was
crazy.
I’d heard that voice before I was diagnosed but it really
hit me hard, and time and time again after my diagnosis. I wrestled with it then. I said I was going to win this fight and I
did. So when that voice came back today;
I laughed, turned up my music, picked up the pace, and finished the 8
miles. Eight miles, Eight weeks after surgery
to rid my body of cancer. I’m sure it’s
been done before but I’m not racing against anyone.
I like what one of the greatest runners ever, Steve
Prefontaine, said:
“You
have to wonder at times what you're doing out there. Over the years, I've given
myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it
started. It comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement."
