Carpe Diem

Woosh! Where has the time gone??

8 marathons down (one more Ironman to brag about) and 4 more to go. Nowadays when someone asks me how many races I have left, I grin and say, “Only four!” Then they look at me like I’ve forgotten to take my medication but let’s put this in perspective, folks; when you’ve already run 8 marathons in 8 months, and you “only” have 4 more to go before you think seriously about never running another marathon again (half joke) four sounds pretty sweet.

I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately. I have met the most amazing people this year, people whose face-to-face encounters with breast cancer were far scarier and more serious than mine. Let me tell you something about these women – they dealt with cancer LIKE. A. BOSS.

They live through chemo, survive surgery, lose their hair and then go out and buy badass hats and bandanas which they wear with bright pink lipstick. They talk about what they went through over coffee with complete strangers like me. They get tattoos. They travel more. They are grateful for every damn day. They RUN. They are superheroes.

Sometimes I get wrapped up in the “what if.” Every time I drop top and bear all for a mammogram I’m thinking, “Are they going to find something different this time?” “What if this thing has changed or grown?” Watchful waiting (as they call it) is bullshit. Getting mammograms every other month is bullshit. Starting next year, I won’t have to get them so frequently but I’ll still have to have one a year, like PAPs. And we all know how much fun those are, right ladies?

Perspective is everything. I think every fighter and survivor I meet are trying to tell me how lucky I am because it could always be worse. I leave our conversations a changed woman. These women who share their stories with me make me feel lighter, humbled, lucky. I wish every woman could feel this way, minus the scary bi-monthly boob squishing.

I wore the pink tutu at Ironman Mont Tremblant this month for marathon #8. I’m pretty sure I was sleep walking through kms 20-30 on the run, but I was so proud to be there and felt so lucky to feel so…. alive. I’m attempting something both noble and completely stupid. (In hind sight, Mark was right – 10k in 10 months would have been way better.) Nonetheless, I fully endorse this combination and still hold both those values as ones we should all aspire to.

Carpe diem, bitches!