When I started this fundraiser, I intended to blog more frequently: to give some insight into my training, to have a record of this experience, to encourage people to give. But I haven't been able to write so publicly about this. It's been a difficult few months as Dad's cancer continues to grow and, in turn, his health continues to decline.
A few weeks ago, Dad was in the hospital for a few days, working to get his pain better managed. We found out that the spots already there had grown and that there were new spots. I didn't make the trip home due to some work commitments and the fact that there really didn't seem like anything I could do if I were to go. My triathlon training that week was minimal.
I woke up that Saturday morning knowing that I needed to run. I didn't feel like running. My heart felt too heavy. My weather app told me that there was a chance of thunderstorms later in the day. In an attempt to beat the storm, I decided to get started. I ran. Slow and steady. About 2 miles in, I could see the storm moving in across Lake Nokomis. The thunder started, followed quickly by a downpour of rain. As I kept running, I thought about how Dad's cancer has been like a storm in our lives, worthy of respect as a force of nature. It's been in the forecast, in our minds, for 8 years. At times, it sweeps in powerfully. Other times, it relaxes and allows the sun to shine through. Either way, we keep moving; life does not stop for storms. My Dad has continued to move through this storm. With tears streaming down my face and rain dousing me from head to toe, my heart seemed to lighten a bit as I kept moving through the storm that Saturday morning.
My hope in raising money for ZERO is to lessen the impact of the storm of prostate cancer if at all possible. Using this triathlon as a fundraiser this summer has helped keep me moving, which I know helps with my interior storm during this time. With the help of many friends and family members, I'm proud to report that I've met my fundraising goal. I welcome your continued support either financially as a donor, or emotionally as a supporter during the triathlon and all the storms that are yet to come. Let's keep moving together.
A few weeks ago, Dad was in the hospital for a few days, working to get his pain better managed. We found out that the spots already there had grown and that there were new spots. I didn't make the trip home due to some work commitments and the fact that there really didn't seem like anything I could do if I were to go. My triathlon training that week was minimal.
I woke up that Saturday morning knowing that I needed to run. I didn't feel like running. My heart felt too heavy. My weather app told me that there was a chance of thunderstorms later in the day. In an attempt to beat the storm, I decided to get started. I ran. Slow and steady. About 2 miles in, I could see the storm moving in across Lake Nokomis. The thunder started, followed quickly by a downpour of rain. As I kept running, I thought about how Dad's cancer has been like a storm in our lives, worthy of respect as a force of nature. It's been in the forecast, in our minds, for 8 years. At times, it sweeps in powerfully. Other times, it relaxes and allows the sun to shine through. Either way, we keep moving; life does not stop for storms. My Dad has continued to move through this storm. With tears streaming down my face and rain dousing me from head to toe, my heart seemed to lighten a bit as I kept moving through the storm that Saturday morning.
My hope in raising money for ZERO is to lessen the impact of the storm of prostate cancer if at all possible. Using this triathlon as a fundraiser this summer has helped keep me moving, which I know helps with my interior storm during this time. With the help of many friends and family members, I'm proud to report that I've met my fundraising goal. I welcome your continued support either financially as a donor, or emotionally as a supporter during the triathlon and all the storms that are yet to come. Let's keep moving together.