Dear friends,Yes, that's right. I'm back. In 2004, YOU helped me raise just shy of $20,000 ($19,158.30) for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society as we worked to find a cure for cancer. On August 29 of that year, I completed my first Ironman triathlon in Penticton, British Columbia. I could not have done either without your heartfelt support, and for that I remain truly grateful. If you read my race report from Ironman Canada (I know you read and retained all 14 pages of it), you knew that at mile 30 on the bike, I smiled big and thought "absolutely, I'm going to do another one!" I've taken the past year off from training and have enjoyed every last minute of it.
I slept in. I knit ill-fitting baby hats. I learned that knitting class is not a good place to meet men. I ran the New York City Marathon (and despite threats to the contrary, did not visit a bar en route.) I lost – ok, I found it this morning - my wetsuit. I got a new job and learned to love commuting on CalTrain. I forgot what Perpetuem tastes like. I stalked riders at the Tour de France. I went on hikes and watched bad TV and drank my way across a small European country most people can't find on a map.
I've rejoined the Ironteam with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, and on July 23, 2006, I will complete Ironman USA in Lake Placid, NY (it's still 2.4 miles swimming, 112 biking, and 26.2 running – and it's still all on the same day).
You may be saying to yourself….. "if the year off wasso lovely, then why is she back?" Why am I back?
Because I like to eat bacon?
Because I like to see the sun rise seven days a week?
Because Sports Basement called to make sure I was ok?
This year I also watched my mom lose one of her best friends, in a matter of weeks, to Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML). All I could offer was to put her name on a banner. Somehow that didn't seem right. Louie Bonpua (CML - 1/22/02). Marcus Priddy (6/15/03). Scott Martin (AML - 4/29/04). Cole Regan (AML - 7/28/04). Ridgeley Van Ness (AML - 2/23/05). They are all lives cut short. Families left behind. I hope there will be less sadness this time around – my dad's relapse scare and the losses during Ironteam 2004 were enough to sustain my drive for hope for many years – but I know there's no guarantee, and it will likely not be the case.
Do I really need more reasons than that?
Then I'm back because I missed the camaraderie and the friendship, and the purpose bigger than myself.
And there's still not a cure.
When I was in France this summer, I stood on the Champs Elysees and reminisced about meeting Scott for the first time. Two years seems a lifetime ago. At the time he seemed healthy and invincible – he was nine months post-transplant – yet he was also fragilely optimistic. Nine months later, he was gone. Last weekend, I had the privilege of standing in a tiny, crowded ballroom in Washington, DC, cheering a high school classmate as she finished the Tour of Hope, the cross-country bike ride raising awareness for clinical trials in cancer research. She's a cancer survivor, and a new mother, and I watched through tears as she was reunited with her baby girl after ten days away.
She is very, very lucky. Your life can change in a moment.
There's still not a cure, there's tons of money waiting to be raised and brilliant scientists waiting to spend it. (And hell, this time I already know how to ride a bike.)
There are 279 days until Ironman USA. Bring it on.
As always, I am grateful for your support,
Maureen
** Be a part of the cure – visit http://www.active.com/donate/tntgsf/goironmo
No comments:
Post a Comment