One more post about the 2014 Challenge- This time from my Mom.
When Dan was first diagnosed with fibrolamellar in 2005 our entire
family was devastated. How could such a young, happy person have cancer?
As parents how do you swallow your own fear in order to console and
encourage your child that everything will be ok?
Dan was a true soldier. His war was with cancer and he refused to let
fibrolamellar dictate his life. We took it for granted that Dan had won
his battle as the scans continued to show he was cancer free. But
cancer was not yet finished with Dan. The cheating scumbag disease
returned with a vengeance and once more Steve and I heard the awful news
one more time from Dan, "Cancer's back and it's not good." Once more we
entered the battle along Dan's side not knowing where we would end-up
this time. Dan won his battle and we are forever proud.
LIVESTRONG meant a lot to Dan. Not only did he help others with his
fundraising it was another way to show cancer he was a winner. When we
went into the tent where he got his survivor bib I had to hide my tears
as I pinned it to his back. He then filled out a memory card for Aunt
Eileen, Unker and Grandpa. Dan rode the race like a man possessed,
winning without even training as if to say, "Up yours fibrolamellar!"
Tears again flowed when he was presented with his yellow rose.His
strength and determination were so inspirational!
2014 was the first time Steve and I actually participated in the walk (there's no way I can bike the terrain around Montco with my knee)
although we supported LIVESTRONG and Dan by making sure he achieved his
fundraising goal and cheering him on. I thought of Dan with every step I
took and thanked God for giving him to us even for such a short time. I
thought about how lucky I am to have Steve at my side each and every
day and how proud I am of Laura and Patrick and all of their
accomplishments. David is truly the light of our lives!
Thank you to all of our family and friends who once again reminded us
that we will never walk alone by taking part in the event and/or
donating. Together we keep Dan's dream alive - no more cancer - no more
tears!
Monday, September 1, 2014
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Living Strong and Running Along
This is the second of my posts regarding the Livestrong Challenge. You can read the first post here.
Dan rode in his first Livestrong Race in 2006. When we spoke about the event a few days later, he said, "There's a run. You should do it next year." I didn't give it much thought until about 6 months later when he called me, wanting to start a team, and said, "You need to be on my team this year. I can get you a discount!" So I did. I listened to Lance Armstrong speak before he rode 100 miles in under 2 hours, shuffled through the course, made 3 trips through the steam tent, and was there when Dan crossed the finish line in second place. And then I cried. We both made signs- mine said "Macstrong" and Dan's said "Never never quit."
Dan kept those signs for 7 years. We found them in his room after he passed away.
In early summer, my Aunt Wendy announced that she was going to participate in the Challenge and set up a team. Her husband (Uncle Joe), their three kids, and my parents signed up to walk the 5K course. Wendy registered for the 10K. Dan's friends set up another team for the walk. After much deliberation, I signed up for the 5K run as well. I started a Couch to 5K program about 2 weeks before the race, and I didn't have any ideas that I would do particularly well on race day. But it was very important that I run again this year, just as I had run while Dan was alive.
I went to the Livestrong Village on the Friday before the race to pick up my registration package. I am glad that I was there a few days early, and I am glad that I had the area mostly to myself. It was very hard to see the yellow and black banners, saying "Hope," "Strength," and "Courage." Dan was all of those things to me. Not for the first time, I thought about how unfair it was to be there while he couldn't be. Not for the first time did I have to try to explain to David what cancer was, and what had happened, and why I was sad. While a little pensive, it was hard to be sad with so many volunteers, some cancer survivors themselves, thanking me for coming out and wishing me luck. Ben continued to be supportive- humoring my "need" to "carb up" (not really necessary for a 5K run) and offered to watch David during the actual race.
Race day dawned bright and early. It was surprisingly cool for an August morning. I joined the rest of my family- the only one in blue in a sea of yellow. We cheered for Wendy as she ran off with the 10K runners, and then I stepped into the coral for the 5K. I tried to keep my emotions in check, but it was very hard, especially when I looked around at all of the special shirts and signs around me. Too many names, too many families, too many whose lives have been impacted by cancer. It was great to see so many families supporting loved ones. We had support from both sides of our family, and it made a difficult morning a lot easier.
After listening to the peppy music for a few minutes, they sounded the horn to signal our start. Either because I was more prepared, or because of the large amount of baby strollers in the coral, I did not dash out at top speed like I had at the 2007 Challenge. I managed to make it much further than I expected to before I had to take a walking break. The volunteers at the water stand were very nice, and I thanked them for being there. Then I went around the corner and down the hill. That's when things got a little bit tougher.
When I was preparing for the race, I loaded up my iPod with some tunes that reminded me of Dan and some other Fibro fighters. I knew that I would be doing a mix of running and walking, so I made sure to add a mixture of slower and faster music onto my iPod, and I figured that I would alter my pace to the beat of the music. Wouldn't you know- none of the slower songs popped up for the duration of the event. At one point, I looked at the sky and told Dan to knock off the shenanigans. I can only imagine what the people around me thought. But they were happy when it started to rain a bit later! Things got a little rough when I thought that the second mile was stretching on and on. (Turns out that they did not put out the sign for Mile 2.)
It was around the time that the guy in the wheelchair passed me that the Rocky Theme started to play. I got my final wind, and started to run faster. A guy from the 10K group headed for the home stretch, dressed as Captain America. Shenanigans again. A van of volunteers drove by, with people leaning out the window ringing cow bells and cheering. To the tune of some Celtic Rock I ran into the finish coral. The MC announced my name as I crossed the finish line and I cheered as though I had run a marathon instead of 3 miles. I looked around and saw the yellow banners and the yellow roses, and felt Dan's presence in the strongest way that I have since he died. That's when I burst into tears.
The truth is that I felt Dan with me for the entire run. But it was when I was in the coral, listening to the music and getting high five'd by strangers, that I began to understand a little of why this event meant so much to him. No way to get around this- cancer is horrible. It is isolating. It cheats. But with the support of family and friends, or perfect strangers who know what you've gone through, your strength raises exponentially. By living strong, there is hope.
Dan rode in his first Livestrong Race in 2006. When we spoke about the event a few days later, he said, "There's a run. You should do it next year." I didn't give it much thought until about 6 months later when he called me, wanting to start a team, and said, "You need to be on my team this year. I can get you a discount!" So I did. I listened to Lance Armstrong speak before he rode 100 miles in under 2 hours, shuffled through the course, made 3 trips through the steam tent, and was there when Dan crossed the finish line in second place. And then I cried. We both made signs- mine said "Macstrong" and Dan's said "Never never quit."
Dan kept those signs for 7 years. We found them in his room after he passed away.
In early summer, my Aunt Wendy announced that she was going to participate in the Challenge and set up a team. Her husband (Uncle Joe), their three kids, and my parents signed up to walk the 5K course. Wendy registered for the 10K. Dan's friends set up another team for the walk. After much deliberation, I signed up for the 5K run as well. I started a Couch to 5K program about 2 weeks before the race, and I didn't have any ideas that I would do particularly well on race day. But it was very important that I run again this year, just as I had run while Dan was alive.
Adding his name to the Wall was an important part of Dan's race day ritual. We made sure it was there this year. |
Honoring friends & family. |
Prepping for the Race |
My special Dan sign. |
After listening to the peppy music for a few minutes, they sounded the horn to signal our start. Either because I was more prepared, or because of the large amount of baby strollers in the coral, I did not dash out at top speed like I had at the 2007 Challenge. I managed to make it much further than I expected to before I had to take a walking break. The volunteers at the water stand were very nice, and I thanked them for being there. Then I went around the corner and down the hill. That's when things got a little bit tougher.
When I was preparing for the race, I loaded up my iPod with some tunes that reminded me of Dan and some other Fibro fighters. I knew that I would be doing a mix of running and walking, so I made sure to add a mixture of slower and faster music onto my iPod, and I figured that I would alter my pace to the beat of the music. Wouldn't you know- none of the slower songs popped up for the duration of the event. At one point, I looked at the sky and told Dan to knock off the shenanigans. I can only imagine what the people around me thought. But they were happy when it started to rain a bit later! Things got a little rough when I thought that the second mile was stretching on and on. (Turns out that they did not put out the sign for Mile 2.)
![]() |
Emotional finish |
The truth is that I felt Dan with me for the entire run. But it was when I was in the coral, listening to the music and getting high five'd by strangers, that I began to understand a little of why this event meant so much to him. No way to get around this- cancer is horrible. It is isolating. It cheats. But with the support of family and friends, or perfect strangers who know what you've gone through, your strength raises exponentially. By living strong, there is hope.
![]() |
My Boston Maraton Finish |
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Livestrong Challenge 2014
This is going to be the first of two posts regarding this event.
A few months after Dan had his liver resection, he decided to train for the Livestrong Challenge, a 10-mile bike ride through the suburbs of Philadelphia. Dan took a lot of inspiration from Lance Armstrong. Dan's involvement with the Livestrong Foundation gave him the positive attitue that helped him fight cancer when he had it, and gave him pride for his lengthy remission.
While many foundations focus on research and developing cures for cancer (and this is VERY important!), Livestrong's mission is focused on providing support to those who are undergoing treatment at the present time. Livestrong sponsors a number of initiatives that help patients get treatment, take care of themselves and their families, and to be active when they are able to do so.
In the wake of Dan's passing, many of us have tried to find ways to honor his memory. My Aunt Wendy decided that she was going to organize a team to walk or run in this year's Livetrong Challenge. Wendy ran the 10K, I ran the 5K, and my parents, Uncle Joe, four of my cousins, and 5 of Dan's friends walked the 5K course. I was touched that one of Dan's friends, who is also a cancer survivor, walked the course with his wife. I think Dan would have been especially thrilled to see my parents cross that finish line. We high fived people who had beaten cancer, and took pictures of people who were honoring loved ones who couldn't be there themselves. It is impossible to walk away from this event without getting at least one lump in your throat!
Team Macstrong raised over $3,000 for the Livestrong Foundation. More importantly, I think we showed others that there is strength in numbers in the face of cancer. We received support from all walks of Dan's life, as well as from our friends or family who were touched by Dan's story.
Come join us next year!
While many foundations focus on research and developing cures for cancer (and this is VERY important!), Livestrong's mission is focused on providing support to those who are undergoing treatment at the present time. Livestrong sponsors a number of initiatives that help patients get treatment, take care of themselves and their families, and to be active when they are able to do so.
In the wake of Dan's passing, many of us have tried to find ways to honor his memory. My Aunt Wendy decided that she was going to organize a team to walk or run in this year's Livetrong Challenge. Wendy ran the 10K, I ran the 5K, and my parents, Uncle Joe, four of my cousins, and 5 of Dan's friends walked the 5K course. I was touched that one of Dan's friends, who is also a cancer survivor, walked the course with his wife. I think Dan would have been especially thrilled to see my parents cross that finish line. We high fived people who had beaten cancer, and took pictures of people who were honoring loved ones who couldn't be there themselves. It is impossible to walk away from this event without getting at least one lump in your throat!
Team Macstrong raised over $3,000 for the Livestrong Foundation. More importantly, I think we showed others that there is strength in numbers in the face of cancer. We received support from all walks of Dan's life, as well as from our friends or family who were touched by Dan's story.
Come join us next year!
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Six
I had a lot of things that I WANTED to say... but in the end, this picture says so very much and I decided that it was a better fit for the seventh.
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