Yesterday My Life Ended

I finished a marathon yesterday, the Sarasota Marathon to be exact. The 26.2 mile endurance test was not my life’s goal, but eventually did become a defining moment in my life. The ability to set a physical goal and to achieve it is a remarkable aspect of human life that I have taken for granted. When I started running eight years ago, I first focused on being able to run a mile without walking and then on 1 ½ miles, 2 and so forth. When I first decided to enter a race – I signed up for a distance I had never run before (5 miles) and then went out, built up from 3 to 4 and then to 5 miles – ran and finished the race. Once I knew I could finish a 5 mile race without passing out, puking or otherwise embarrassing myself, I ran more of them – with the goal of running each one faster. And that’s the way each one ended. The Harvey Cedars Dog Day race in 2005 was nearly 10 minutes a mile. Dog Day run in 2006 was 9 minutes a mile. In 2007, the Scott Coffee 8k was just under 9 minutes and the Dog Day Race was just over 8 minutes a mile. Hmmm, I would think, push a bit harder, train a bit more and perhaps all things are possible . . . or at least all ‘rational’ things (running a 6 minute mile at age 53 is not considered rational).

Since I wasn’t able to run the Long Beach Island 18 mile Race this year (thanks to a bruised tailbone) I somehow concluded that I’d make up for it by running a marathon. Set my sight on the March 2nd Sarasota Marathon and then went about getting ready. Researched on-line coaches, hired Jeff Galloway (a good decision), bought a new pair of running shoes and got about the business of preparing for a Marathon 3 months hence.

Carol ‘required’ that I have a physical to make sure that I wasn’t going to keel over either while training or worse yet, during the race itself. And that – has saved my life or perhaps more accurately, has begun to define a new life.

The short version is this. On November 28th I was seen by our internist/family practitioner who did the usual thumping of chest, checking of ears, etc. And then she did the Digital Rectal Exam (which will likely be referred to as the DRE – from here on out). Said that she felt a ‘hardness’ and in the course of writing out lab orders and a recommendation for the long overdue colonoscopy, suggested strongly that I follow-up with a urologist.

Saw the urologist on December 4th, had my first PSA results back on December __ (PSA registered as a 15.3) and had a biopsy conducted on December 12th. Results . . . . 10 of 12 cores were positive for prostate cancer, a Gleason 7 (4+3). As the urologist said it “you have a lot of cancer”.

So after only 3 or 4 weeks of training, the marathon was now history. For the next month, we dedicated ourselves to researching the disease, determining my ‘biology’, understanding treatment options and finding a treating doctor. But on January 9th, Dr. Julio Pow-Sang told me that it was his ‘strong medical advice’ that I run the Sarasota Marathon. As if for effect, or maybe it was the tilt of my head that now resembled the RCA dog – he repeated his statement. But he didn’t elaborate and I didn’t question his advice. I did mutter something about continuing to run, even if I didn’t run a marathon. And later, I speculated that perhaps he was humoring me . . . “let the guy get wrapped up in a marathon and he’ll forget about this little prostate cancer thing. It’ll be good for him”.

Thought about it for about a week, wrote to my on-line coach and then decided to get back on the training regimen, though at this point I had lost at least four weeks. My sister-in-law, Nancy, had agreed to run the marathon with me - and had been subject to the on and off again roller coaster of we're running, no we're not, yes - let's do it . . . .

Which brings me to March 2nd, 2008 – the day my life ended. I had read a column by John Bingham in Runner’s World talking about his medical issues and the fact that his new perspective is to begin again to establish new personal bests. In other words, Bingham was suggesting that when a runner gets to a certain age or certain condition in life, running faster and/or perhaps running longer becomes a thing of the past - so focus on the present or the future by starting new. When I originally read his column, I thought – yep, makes sense and some day I’ll be there. After a diagnosis of cancer and the beginning of Androgen Deprivation Therapy – I was clearly there. And the marathon was a fit ending to my running life – to begin anew in some form, yet to be determined. But to stop there would be a mistake. I had already figured out that the diagnosis was a clear wake up call (I know this sounds like a statement of the obvious, but I’ll write more about this). Given where I am today with treatment decisions, with significant unknowns about the extent and reach of the cancer and my clear acceptance that this cancer may be life threatening – its time to acknowledge that life as I have known it is ending. And more importantly – to take charge of both the end of that life and the beginning of a new one.