Running on Memories

There were balloons in our Sunday School class on Sunday. Balloons aren't really my favorite thing (the noise they make when the pop scares me), but one of the guys thought it would be really fun to bust one open for the helium. Announcements definitely would have been interesting. My first reaction was my Uncle use to do that all the time. I remember my Grandmother's birthday the summer after my 7th grade year. We always went to the same Chinese restaurant across from some of the UVA fields in Charlottesville. My Uncle Clyde's wife Leysia had walked over to talk to my sister and I, noticing how beautiful my smile was now I that I no longer had braces. She turned her back, and my uncle got his hands on the balloons. I never knew my Uncle really well, so I was surprised when he started opening balloons and talking after a mouthful of helium. It was hysterical. The more I've heard about my Uncle, the more I've come to discover that this was just his way. Fun loving, a little bit crazy, and enjoying life. I really admire that. I loved hearing stories of the crazy things he did at his memorial service. I learned a lot about him that I never knew.

This weekend would have my Uncle Clyde's birthday. It seems fitting that I'm running a half marathon this weekend. I run a lot of races in memory of my Uncle. It just seemed like the right thing to do after he lost his very brief battle with cancer. This weekend also marks another anniversary. A year ago I was on the way to the same race (ING Georgia 1/2 marathon) when I learned that a friend unexpectedly passed away the day before. She loved to run even if she didn't run as much as she wanted too. I often find myself wanting to tell her something I think will make her laugh, or wanting to send her a note to see how she's doing only to remember that she isn't here anymore. I can't bring myself to take her out of my address book. She reminds me of my Uncle Clyde. Always smiling, bubbly, and full of life. So on Sunday I'm running the ING Georgia half marathon (I so wish I had time to run the full) in memory of Clyde and Jen. I hope it will be a day full of fun and laughter. I think they would have enjoyed that.

Left to right: Kim, Jen, Peter, & myself

Heros

This post originally started out as something very different, but I couldn't get over what happened this morning. Sometimes I feel like I forget why I run. This morning was one of those runs. I got to caught up in everything that seemed to be going wrong. I will not trouble you with my whining, it's enough to say even I felt bad about it, but I think I may have come up with a solution for one of the issues. Tomorrow's 8 mile run will tell the tale of my latest experiment (my violin students will tell you that I love to experiment).

What made the difference? Well I started reading the Caringbridge website of a friend's nephew. See Daniel was diagnosed with neuroblastoma back in June and was having surgery to remove the tumor this morning. And while I was reading that his wish was to go visit his Aunt Becky every week it hit me, this is why I run. It's not just to be in shape, or to have time to myself and try and stay sane, it's to be a part of something bigger, to make a difference. See Daniel doesn't care that his hair is falling out, or that his body sometimes violently objects to what he has to go through, he just wants to be a kid. Or take our team honored hero Kate. She's only seven and just finished her last round of chemo July 1st. They didn't ask to have cancer. Who would? But they fight anyway. Or Uncle Clyde and Ryan who both lost their battles with cancer. Ryan was starting a new chapter in his life after winning the Metropolitan Opera Competition in 2007 and getting a chance to perform with the Met Opera. Who knew he only had a year left. So much promise lost because of cancer.

This is my I run. To make a difference. To fight the only way I know how, because deep down inside I worry about who might be next. Every five minutes someone is diagnosed with a blood cancer. That doesn't even count all of the other cancers. What would life be like if cancer no longer existed? Daniel and Kate's fight would be over for good! That's why I run!! And let's face it 26.2 miles doesn't hurt nearly as much as going through chemo.

You can help!! Go to http://pages.teamintraining.org/ga/nikesf09/bgartley all donations are 100% tax deductible and 75% of you gift goes directly towards making a difference in the lives of those battling cancer!

Daniel Enfinger

Kate

The Difference a Year Makes

It's hard to believe that it's only been a year since my uncle Clyde passed from cancer. It's been a bit of a mixed bag as far as emotions. I went back to the caringbridge website that my aunt and her friends had set up so that everyone would know what was going on last summer as things were unfolding. It's amazing how quickly things happened, and it's amazing to read the stories and memories that people posted. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

June 2008, and my Uncle Clyde and his wife went on a wonderful trip to Italy. When they got back they noticed that my uncle had lost a bit a weight, a tall feat after a trip to Italy (having just gotten back from Italy a month ago I can say that there are so many wonderful things to eat there!!). One of my aunt's friends who is a nurse noticed that my uncle was jandus, and said that he needed to get to the hospital immediately. From there it was a whirlwind 72 hours of shock. He went into the hospital on Friday and was diagnosed. By Saturday they were calling friends and family after getting the diagnoses of pancreatic cancer, and by Monday he had been staged and was heading into surgery. He kept joking about if he came out of surgery. At the time most of us didn't know much about pancreatic cancer, and thought it he needed to be more optimistic. Apparently he knew something the rest of us didn't. I started poking around online after getting the news from my parents, and started to discover how hard this might end up being. Surgery is a mixed blessing with pancreatic cancer in my opinion. It's incredibly hard, not because they have to remove a large part of the digestive system, but because complications are very likely after such a surgery. That's what happened with my uncle. There was internal bleeding, another surgery, and finally after 3 weeks of fighting, pain, and hysterical 6am phone calls it was over. It was like living a bad dream or having all of the air knocked out of your body.

The problem with pancreatic cancer is that it's incredibly hard to diagnose. They are no specific symptoms that scream pancreatic cancer, they are all to general. The one year survival rate is 1% and the five year survival rate is 5%. It's a death sentence, which is why I walked into a Team in Training information meeting 4 days after my uncle's death. Even though they raise money for blood cancers it was still fighting cancer, and since I was already a runner, it seemed like a good fit. Running has always been a way to help cope with things. A way to help cope after my father's stroke, or taking care of my parent's. A way to cope with all of the stress of being a violinist, and staying in shape so that I don't get injured again. All I had to do was raise money and train. It was an amazing experience, and a way to have something good come out of something that wasn't good.

It's been different since Clyde's death. He was always the clown at family gatherings, A kid trapped in an adult body. I miss the crazy smile, his love of helium balloons, and his good nature. It's good to remember all of that. And it's good to fight back, which is why I'm doing another event with Team in Training this fall. It's time for cancer to go down!

http://pages.teamintraining.org/ga/nikesf09/bgartley