Today is fit Friday! I went to the gym today and did the open stride for a half an hour and then did the arc trainer for an hour.
Today’s question relates to marathon training. How is cancer treatment like marathon training?
Cancer treatment is a lot like training for a marathon, or any endurance athletic event for that matter. You need a good team, good equipment, a plan of action, and most of all, a good attitude. You need flexibility to know how to deal with illness and injury and any other negative influence that comes your way. You need to know when to let go of control and what to do when it’s all over.
Like any athlete, a cancer patient needs a good team of doctors, nurses, various other medical staff, family, friends, and yes, even the occasional stranger to help them to the finish line.
Training for a marathon requires some pretty simple equipment — clothes, shoes, and some place to run. A triathlon requires a bit more — a bike and a pool for starters. Breast cancer treatment requires way more “equipment.” Surgeries, diagnostic tests, a good diet and lots and lots of drugs — pain reducing, infection-reducing, anti-nausea, anti-diarrheal and lethal, cancer-killing drugs to name a few. After a few surgeries and just one or two chemo treatments, you need even more equipment — prosthetics.
Formal training plans abound for marathon training. Not so much for cancer treatment. What works for one patient doesn’t necessarily work for someone else with the same type and grade of breast cancer.
“Attitude is everything.” Who “they” are, I don’t know, but “they” are right when it comes to running a marathon and cancer treatment. Marathon training is long and arduous to most mere mortals like myself. So is cancer treatment. You visit dark lonely places while undergoing both. Setbacks happen. You have to deal with the naysayers. You get runner’s highs and the next run you will hit a wall. One day after chemo, you may feel sort of okay followed by three days of feeling like you’ve been run over by a semi truck. Toenails and blisters come and go with running. Your favorite running shoes get thrashed and you may lose all the songs on your iPod. Your blood values tank and the meds they put you on to counteract the chemo side effects cause you retain water like SpongeBob Squarepants. Your hair and your memory go and then slowly return with chemo. Studies have shown that laughter really does dull pain associated with a multitude of treatments. Keeping your sense of humor and perspective throughout it all are key to surviving and thriving.
And then, it’s all over. You’ve run the marathon and gotten the medal and the t-shirt. Maybe you put in your best time and maybe you didn’t. Your cancer is in remission and you’ve had your last chemo treatment. The physical and emotional scars will remain with you forever. So will the memories. Some will be bad, some will be good. How do you move on? What will your new “normal” be? Do you start training for something new? Does finishing a marathon or cancer treatment spur you to do something bigger or better for yourself or the community in general? Time will tell, but I hope so.