Taking the power back

Last night I talked to two friends of mine who told me that even if I spend all of next wek in the hospital getting the shit pounded out of me by IL2, I should still enter and start that triathlon I signed up for on May 19. Earlier in the day I had already gotten back on the horse (a carbon fiber horse) and rode 31 miles. Now right now I am not anywhere near to being what I would call in shape, so today I decided that I needed to test my body.

First stop: the campus of SUNY Delhi, the nearest pool where I can swim laps. I figured that I might as well try for 1000m, the didtance of the swim leg of the Harriman race. After seven or eight links (a link is a half lap, or 25m. It takes 40 links to swim 1000m) my arms began to get sore. But I was determined to swim until I reached my goal or my arms gave out. And my arms didn't give out. After a few more laps the pain faded, and I just kept on swimming, until I finally counted to 40. I felt so good that I even did a few more laps for god measure. Plus, it cost me three bucks to use the damn pool, and I wanted my money's worth.

I hoped into my car, and drove home. But first I stopped at the local rail trail to go for a run. Wanted to run four miles, but the trail only has mileage markers at road crossings. So I calculated the distance from one road to another via the trail to be 2.3 miles, 4.6 roundtrip. Again my philosophy was to run until I couldn't run anymore. I had my iPod on, and had a playlist designed for a 45 minute running workout. Actually,it's 48 minutes to be precise. And I swear that iPod helped me run the entire distance (okay, I slowed down to walk around a few puddles and cross one of the roads, but never more than a few steps at a time) Every time I felt like giving up, the next song would take me to the next level. I mean, you can't fucking quit when you hear "Sabotage" by the Beastie Boys or the Rollins Band destroying their way through "Tearing". I mean, I wouldn't want Henry to think I'm a pussy. And I finished my 4.6 mile run in 48 minutes on the nose.

It felt good to reach these numbers today. I now know I have the endurance to swim the distance, and the run was a PR as far as distance goes. I don't know when, if ever, I have run that far without stopping.

On a related note, I recieved this in an email from an oncologist friend in SLC: For responders to immunotherapy (and I would cautiously put in you that category), we sometimes can see waxing and waning of metastatic lesions. That news helps to give me hope, and makes it easier to get into a positive frame of mind.