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| L-R: Danny, Dave, me, Luis |
It wasn't about the time, which was lousy, or the medal, which will go in the pile with a dozen others from past races. And the t-shirt is a shade of green I won't likely wear again.
This weekend was about living.
It was about reliving old memories and good times with my 3 best friends from high school. It was about enjoying a beautiful weekend in a picturesque city with perfect weather. And yes, it was about running a half-marathon 10 days after my latest chemo treatment.
Let me be clear. I'm not posting this because I want people to congratulate me on the race. My message is much simpler. Cancer doesn't define me. I define me. I am a husband, father, runner, friend... There's no room on my personal business card for "cancer patient."
I know not everyone dealing with cancer is able to run a half marathon. And believe me there are days when I can't run at all. But everyone with cancer has something they did before they were diagnosed, something they think cancer can take away from them. Something that used to be a part of how they defined themselves. And something that doesn't have to go away.
I run more slowly than I ever have in my life. I feel worse than I ever did after races. So what? I'm still a runner. And a husband, father, and friend (and maybe even a little better at those 3 than I was before cancer came along).
Thanks Danny, David, and Luis for the weekend. Thanks Ghila for the awesome shirts. Thanks Marcie and our kids for all the encouragement. Thanks to you friends for reading this, and, I hope, carrying the message with you.
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