Make It Better

If you've made it to my blog you probably know that one of the people I'm doing the race in honor of is my good friend Beth. Beth and her husband Kevin were among our first friends in Seattle. Beth and I worked together at a non-profit agency (my most social life-enriching job to date). Beth and I first bonded over our love of Seinfeld, a fact which makes me feel simultaneously old and geeky. But there it is.

Anyway, as you know if you've read my Team in Training web page, Beth is currently battling brain cancer, a recurrence from five years ago. Her fight has gotten a lot harder over the past month -- among other things, she is on a new chemo regimen (her 4th), and it's making her pretty sick.

Today Kevin (Beth's husband) and several other friends and family members completed a 70 mile bike race for the Livestrong Challenge in Beth's honor. Their team raised almost $20,000 for cancer research. (Wow!!!) We went down to the finish line to cheer them on and to hang out with Beth. Unfortunately, Beth was feeling too lousy to be able to come. I was crushed when I heard that news. Caleb had a series of unfortunate sleep deprivations in the past couple of days, making him one crabby kid this morning, so we had to leave before Kevin and Team crossed the finish line. I hope they're happy with their success -- I'm sure it means a lot to Beth that they went to such efforts. How disappointing that she couldn't be there to watch them cross the finish line.

Early in her illness, when people asked what they could do, Beth said "picture me strong and healthy." That's not hard for me to do -- I have lots of memories of a strong and healthy Beth to call up. I wish, though, that I could to more. I know that raising money for LLS is good, and helps all cancer patients. But I wished it helped the one I cared for most more directly. I wish that every mile I ran would make Beth better, every lap I swam would abate her fatigue. Unfortunately, that's not how it works. She's still going to be sick, whether I do my situps or not.

Why do this, then, when I could use the time to help Beth more directly (making chicken soup, doing her laundry, etc.)? Because I can. There's nothing I or any can do, really, to make her better. But I am healthy, and even if the miles I put in don't cure Beth's cancer, they are my way of saying "I care about you. I'll run while you rest and we'll meet up afterwards for smoothies." Beth and Kevin did so much to support Wiley and I when I was sick. Now it's my turn to take the baton.

I really hope this next week is a better one for Beth. In the meantime, I'll be running and biking and swimming for her.

You Go, Girl

Okay, I've got my new fundraising page up, my first emails sent out, and I'm going to try and sneak out to go to a Saturday AM practice tomorrow. Which means I need to get my bike stuff together and go to bed. But first, I just want to say: thanks for all of your encouragement. The $ people donated on my behalf for Lavaman was amazing, and has propelled me to do this fall race. More than that, thought, is the emotional support I've gotten from everyone. One of the simplest (and perhaps most touching) ways this support has come is in the notes people have written when they've sent checks or made an online donation. My favorite one that I got sometime in January was from an old family friend, Tita. Tita was the Mom in a family we used to vacation with every summer growing up (our Dads went to college together). The family had 3 kids too, similar in age to Susan, Stephen and me. They were like our cousins, so Tita is an honorary aunt. She was a bit of an iconoclast, and had a great laugh. (I say these things in past tense not because she is no longer with us, but because they were part of my growing up, a time gone by).

Anyway, Tita sent me a check for Lavaman. There was no note attached, but in the note line of the check she wrote "you go, girl." I taped that to my desk all winter, and it motivated me to get outside on my bike on some seriously nasty days. I'll have to dig it out, along with all of the other notes, which I thankfully saved. Thanks Aunt Tita! (and thanks everyone!)