Thursday, May 5, 2011

Running in the Rain

So here we are on the eve of my last treatment.
5 1/2 months of pain, struggle, fear, anxiety, sadness, anger, calm, peace, love, and profound happiness.

Tonight I went to my first Team in Training Kick- Off event where I had the opportunity to learn more about the rigorous training involved for the 1/2 marathon, and a chance to meet other survivors, family, and friends of those touched by Blood Cancer.

I learned that I am the only participant registered who is still in treatment. This revelation made me feel like I was back in the third grade, receiving a gold star for acing my spelling test. I have always been an over-achiever, and I suppose training for a 1/2 marathon while enduring 800+ hours of chemotherapy is pretty reflective of who I am- and always have been.

I have been thinking a lot about who I was before Cancer and who I am now after Cancer. For months I feared that I would lose my voice, and that the disease would slowly strip me of who I am.  As I reflect on how I have fought Cancer, and assess where I currently stand, it is evident that Cancer did not simply take from me-she also awakened me. This awakening caused me to listen to and embrace my many selves, which when put together, embody my quintessential self.  I have never been more "me" than in this moment.

As I left the event, excited about the upcoming months, the sky opened up, and the rain came.

Tonight I ran in the rain.

Running in the rain is the first item on my list of Hopes and Dreams- a list I only imagined to be relevant after treatment.

Running in the rain was an unexpected gift.

As I finally returned home and got into the elevator, I shared a ride with a woman in my building. I turned to her and asked, "Did you get caught in the rain?" She replied, "No, but I am running upstairs to get my umbrella." She then turned to me and said, "Did you?"  I nodded and said proudly, "I got soaked."  She replied, "It's just rain, you'll live."

Yes, yes I will live.

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