I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

A couple of weeks ago my friend Debbie and I walked (and ran a little) half of the Cincinnati Pig Marathon together.

Apparently, when pigs take off to fly, it's in the dark.

Last weekend my friend Cee and I ran (and walked a little) of the Atlanta Race for the Cure 5K together.

Don't be confused by the skyscraper, Cee and I are both really short. But I'm a tad gianter.

I realize that might not seem like a big deal, and maybe it’s not in the big scheme of things, but after the marathon they both raced for my cure when I was diagnosed with cancer and going through chemo, it seemed fitting, right, necessary, good.

Debbie (#104 on my list of 1000 gifts) and Cee (#105) were kind of the CEOs, of sorts, of chemo details in the Evanshire. They got together, and got all my friends together, to bring meals every day of every “bad” chemo week. It was. Such. a HUGE. relief. And feeding my picky family can be a lot like a marathon. [Note: I don't think the term mess hall originated with trying to feed my picky peeps, but then again...]

So a couple of weeks ago Debbie and I did the half-Pig (#106) together. Luckily, writing my book has gotten me used to not sleeping, because I had to wake up at 3 a.m. since pigs apparently take off while it’s still dark. (I didn’t know this when I signed up.) The thing about Debbie and marathons is that she is practically the boy scout of marathoning—prepared. If you know me, you know I pretty much fly by the seat of my pants most of the time, and it probably frustrates you practically to death. Sorry.

It misted off and on but luckily Debbie had told me to pack a rain poncho, and as much as I’m on strike against wearing hats these awesome hair days I’m having, I was glad I brought a hat since my glasses don’t have windshield wipers. Thank God it was warm outside; the mist actually felt good. Except for the fact that my soggy feet (from the chemo) actually, for real, got literally soggy. I could hear my socks squishing and it was gross. (But not as gross as the port-o-potties. Apparently runners keep running when they “go” and they don’t have very good aim.)

As for the socks, no worries, because, of course, Debbie had thought ahead and told me to pack an extra pair.

We mostly walked the 13.1 miles. Of course we ran at the start, which was a lot like walking, with all those runners who can’t aim. We also ran across a bridge over the Ohio River. The cool thing about running over a bridge over the Ohio River it’s literally running from Kentucky to Ohio. Which feels really far and kinda badass. It also feels badass to run downhill, which we did. But not wee wee wee all the way home.

We did run across the finish line though. I can’t help it if all those peeps thought we actually ran the whole way and there wasn’t really time to explain. We totally got busted and shooed away when we tried to go back and take a pic by the “Finish Swine”. And I wasn’t even sure if I could finish it at all. But I so freaking did. (Seems I caught something from the Pig though, and now I simply must do a Komen 3-day, and someday run the 1/2 Pig.)

My time was 3:40:06

Last weekend Cee and I took Team Shaken Not Stirred (#107) on the road and raced for the cure (#108) in Atlanta (#109). It was the first time I ran a whole 5K. Well, mostly ran. There were a couple of uphills that I didn’t exactly channel my Little Engine on, but instead decided to pace myself and possibly finish rather than for sure roll down the hill all the way back to the start line. The thing about running 5K’s with Cee is that she really races for the cure. I thought about tying myself to her and just flying behind her like a kite but then I got caught up in the spirit of racing for the cure and found out that I can actually run a 5K. Well, almost but not quite a whole 5K, if we’re being technical, but then I don’t sound nearly as awesome. Whatever.

Anyway, I have to give props to the Atlanta Race for the Cure peeps for tricking me into running my first 5K (#110). They didn’t have mile-markers, so I never knew where I was in the course, so the finish line shocked the you-know-what outta me. And that, pretty much was my trick to the finish. I kept waiting for the one-mile marker (that never was) and inside I was thinking how very discouraging it was going to be to finally see it and know I still had so many miles to go. And then all of a sudden there was the finish line! Talk about a big “whew”.

My time was 35:02

Here’s why racing for a cure is such a big deal to me.

1) It reminds me that I get by with a little help from my friends.

2) The sea of pink is so moving to be a part of.

3) It is a metaphor to me for moving forward. Though not forgetting. And forging ahead with great purpose.

4) It might be a small thing, but like Mother Theresa said, “”Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” And like the words etched into the Vineyard Cincinnati says, “Small things done with great love will change the world.”

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And in a few hours I’ll be racing for a cure in Columbus with my friend Kristi (#111) and Team Kickin’ It With Kristi. Please pray with me for Kristi. She just finished 12 brain radiation treatments today which we hope and pray zapped all the cancer cells poof away….she’s doing the race for the cure tomorrow….then begins chemo later this month to shrink tumors in her lungs. If you’re on Facebook please join the Prayer “Chain for Kristi Frazier” group.

Well, I better get a little sleep before the race;)

Cheers and love, Joules

Turns Out Writing a Book Makes Your Bum Sore

Wow... it's been awhile since I've posted. So much has been happening. In case you're not on Facebook or Twitter with me (Friend me, Be my Tweetie) and don't know... I FINISHED THE FIRST DRAFT OF MY MANUSCRIPT! I'm making progress whipping this WIP into shape. (Superfun song btw.) Amanda did a first run through edit for typos and other glaring oopsies. Boy did she have revenge, I mean fun, taking the old red pencil to my papers;) Now I'm reading it aloud to myself to make sure it sounds right/flows right, and making some edits and revisions, misc. notes, and an index as I go. After that, I'll probably need an editor to have a look see, who can tell me what else needs to be done to polish it up for publishing.

As soon as I finished the last chapter and sent it off to my sister, we made plans the next day for me to come to Charleston to celebrate. She invited a bunch of her girlfriends over and we had a bookreading/not-a-chemo-cocktail party, which was SO MUCH FUN! So many new friends!

Jen and I made my famous, official, and shaken, of course, "Not-a-Chemo-Cocktail", which was somewhere between de-lish and yum-O. Someday I'll make one for Rachel Ray and see if it isn't so. Then Bobby Flay will want to do a throw down for my recipe, and I'll say "Whoa, whoa, whoa... I'd rather cook with ya than against ya, so how about sneaking me in to be a judge on an iron chef peanut butter and chocolate challenge?" Speaking of iron chef, I sure wouldn't mind if it was Cat Cora on deck because I've always wanted to toss back a shot of ouzo with her.

Anyway, I read a few chapters and did some Q&A. It's crazy to me how much fun I have doing it considering how shy I am inside. One super cool thing about this Charleston crew is that they are being my guinea pigs, I mean, doing a beta book club for me!

Here's me showing off the amazing cover artwork for my book:

Umm... reading.

Umm... cocktail party.

And so the editing/publishing adventures begin! Cheers to that, yeah?! Also, now that Spring is thinking about springing, let the running begin! I've registered a Team Shaken Not Stirred for the Indy Race for the Cure on April 16th. We're planning the Indy edition of my bookreading/not-a-chemo-cocktail party in conjunction with the Race. More details will follow. In the meantime, if you'd like to do the Indy Race with me,

1) click on Komen Indy

2) press the pink join a team button

3) type in the team name: Shaken Not Stirred

4) click on Team Shaken Not Stirred under the search results

5) press the pink join my team button

6) ta-freaking-da!

Today I have my 6-month check up with my breast surgeon, and Monday I have my 3-month check up with my oncologist. Please pray for the old two thumbs up from each of my docs.

Also, please pray for my Uncle Bill. He has stage 4 prostate cancer and is currently in the hospital, quite low on hemoglobin. Ever since his cancer came back with a vengeance, it has been such a ridiculously rough go. There's a lot I'd like to say about it. But I can't say much because of struggles they've had cutting through red tape out the freaking wazoo.

People who make/apply red tape do not seem to realize that bone cancer hurts like hell.

My Uncle Bill has been without chemo since July. Meanwhile he has been in terrible pain I can't even imagine. And the cancer has been growing.

He was on chemo, mainly to help with pain management. Up until July. After he was offered to take part in the third phase of a clinical trial, which wouldn't even have benefited him, but he signed up anyway, because he wanted to help others. This is where things get confusing with red tape and no more chemo.

A week or so ago, they finally got things sorted out and he was getting ready to go to chemo and he broke his foot getting out of bed. The doc said it was broken in 3 places and that it was the worst break he'd ever seen. He had surgery on the foot last week and isn't supposed to put any pressure on the foot, which makes getting around interesting. Worse, he isn't able to get chemo until it heals. Which takes 6-8 weeks.

A couple of days ago, he went straight from having his post-surgery check up for his foot to the ER to have tests for a potential blood clot before they casted him, and then kept him when they found his hemoglobin levels to be so low. There doesn't appear to be any blood clots. Next step is to scope to see if there is a bleeding ulcer? causing blood loss. Please pray for them to figure things out quickly. And for comfort and encouragement for my Uncle Bill, as he is in so much pain and is so understandably discouraged. Thank you.

Cheers and love,

Joules