Sunday, August 6, 2017

Triathlete



For those of you who follow me on Facebook, you're probably sick and tired of reading all my posts about Team Phoenix. But bear with me while I try to write it all in one post (and I promise to at least minimize the TP posts on FB--if not completely stop them!).

A few years before I was diagnosed with cancer, I had gotten fed up with my physical appearance and my (lack of) physical skills. I'd heard about the Couch to 5K (C25K) program, and so I signed up for the Panther Prowl (UWM's scholarship-funding 5K) as a runner, downloaded the C25K app, and got to it. Although I didn't LOVE running (ok, jogging--I will never be a fast runner), I was amazed at the improvements in my ability to keep running.  When I had started, I was gasping at the end of the 60 second run time, and could barely get out of bed the next morning because my legs hurt too much. In those 8 weeks, I dropped weight, I liked how I could burn so many calories in only a half hour workout, and I didn't need any extra (expensive) equipment. I didn't love it, but I kept it up and kept losing weight (gradually) and building muscle.

And so it was that I was in the best shape of my life, and my lowest weight since high school, when I got my diagnosis.


December, 2014

I was determined to stay fit through treatment and I had some good days. But little by little, I gave it up. Surgery had restrictions on movement, complicated by my low platelets. Chemo exhausted me to the point where I could barely walk, let alone run. Radiation caused burns and pain that made it impossible to swing my arms at my sides. And hormone blocking meds hurt my joints so much that I couldn't pick my feet high enough off the ground to feel safe and assure I wouldn't trip. All my treatment plunged me into menopause and along with feeling crappy (hot flashes-who wants to exercise through that?), I put on almost 40 pounds. Post-treatment I was alive, and I was grateful for that, but I wasn't really living. I pushed through to walk (about all I could manage), and I talked about joining a health club, but certainly never went further than talk. I hated the way I looked in the mirror, and I tried not to be angry about how I felt due to all my treatment side effects. But it was hard. And every night I'd lie in bed and just moan, "I hurt, I hurt, I hurt."

~~~~~


I had heard about the Team Phoenix program marginally. Some local Facebook friends had posted about it, and I thought it was a neat idea--cancer survivor to triathlete! I'd considered joining last year, but a part of me was relieved when I realized that my reconstruction surgery interfered with the training and I wasn't eligible. This year, I saw that the culminating triathlon was the weekend of my 30th class reunion, and I almost didn't sign up for it again. And then I had my 3 month appointment with my oncologist, where I explained that I could barely get out of my chair at the end of the day and she told me, before I gave up and tried switching to the fourth hormone blocker, to give exercise a try. I told her I WAS exercising, but she said that walking wasn't enough. I needed to do cardio and I needed to do it 5 times a week. That seemed impossible and I knew I needed some sort of accountability. And then a friend who had done TP two years ago told me I *had* to do it. So I signed up.

Team Phoenix has a really crappy admission ticket, but there are so many unexpected gifts once you're in.

Yes, I completed a triathlon. I am a triathlete. That's pretty awesome. Someone said to set three goals before the tri--
1. One you're pretty sure you're going to achieve (I wanted to finish).
2. One that is a bit of a reach, but obtainable (I wanted to run the full 5K w/o walking).
3. One that is a stretch (I wanted to do it all under 2 hours).

I made all three goals.



And it wasn't even all that difficult (other than the swim...). Unlike the 5K races I'd done before, there was never a time when I felt like I couldn't do it. 

The adrenaline rush from that morning carried me from a 3:00 am wake-up time to a 9:00 pm bedtime that day. It carried me through sore muscles that afternoon and the next day. It carried me to the JCC (our local fitness center) to join it the day after. And it still makes me smile (and sometimes cry) to remember events on that day.

~~~~~
Team Phoenix kicked my butt into shape and made me stronger than I ever remember being. But it's not just about the exercise. It taught me smart nutrition. I learned how to be a smart and good bicyclist ("biker back," "passing on left"). I learned the importance of being well hydrated. I learned bicycle maintenance (ABC's; how to change a tire). I learned that expensive shoes (when fitted to you) really are worth it. And I re-learned the importance of having your tribe get you through the tough stuff. My tribe was led by my friend Dawn, who I first met through the ABCD mentor training. We ride-shared to most practices, but we shared so much more on those trips, and practices both with and without the whole group.


Dawn & me

My TP sister Wendy shared this quote:

And it explains--much better than anything I can say--the full Team Phoenix experience. The women that I took this journey with are amazing. We are all very different in all but one way--being cancer veterans. But going through this training, with that shared background, has bonded us in a very unique way. The closest thing I can compare it to would be my La Leche League group from when my kids were little. Similarly, we had very different backgrounds and experiences--but we were all breastfeeding our little kids. And for that time of my life, La Leche League was my rock!

Half the fun of TP practices was coming home to see the photographs that other teammates and especially our volunteer team photographer (husband of a TP alum) took. I re-lived each practice viewing those photos (and so I'm sharing a bunch with you).

Throughout the 14 weeks of training, the running whipped me into shape, but I'd run 5K's before. 
Mere meters from the end of a full 5K run


The biking was a lot of fun, although it, too, pushed me (especially those hills). 
My favorite place to be: on Fawkes, my bike


But the swim was really difficult. I started training thinking I'd be able to swim with a little bit of practice. I'd taken lessons as an undergrad, and I figured all I needed was access to a pool and I'd be fine. I did okay in the pool (not great), and I gradually worked up to being able to swim twice as far as I'd need to do on race day.


Me in a pool. Not in love with it, but it was do-able. I swam ALL THE STROKES!

And then we took it to a lake. Growing up where I did, I had no fear of lake swimming (although, as a kid, we didn't "swim" so much as splash and ride floaties). Imagine my complete surprise, then, when on the first day we had practice in a lake, I had a mini panic attack. 
Me, in the lake, being talked down by one of my swim angels
I still can't explain why, but after the first open lake swim, even swimming in a pool became difficult. I was panicky whenever my face went in the water, so I gave up breast stroke and freestyle, and practiced side stroke. I was actually more comfortable doing backstroke, but went all over the place when I couldn't see where I was going, so sidestroke seemed a logical choice.

Then we had our full race distance practice on open water. I'd not been back in open water since my first panicky experience, but again I was sure I'd be okay. I'd become a MUCH stronger swimmer, and I could sidestroke, so wouldn't have to worry about my face in the water. I'd been repeating the mantra that I was a strong swimmer, and I had envisioned myself finishing the swim and feeling triumphant. I had a swim angel by my side again (different one), and I set out.

It was awful. At one point someone passed me and I got water over my face, which entered my nose and I thought I was drowning. That happened two more times. I was scared the entire time, and I kept repeating in my head, "I can't do this. I will have to give up my training because I cannot swim without feeling like I'm dying." Finally my swim angel told me we were almost done, and I reached for the bottom of the lake. I couldn't touch, which threw me into another panic, and I barely made it to shore. I don't even remember getting out of the water. I know I was choking back tears--of both frustration and embarrassment.

And then I got home, shaken, and saw this photo. This is me, coming in near the end of the group, to the noodle rainbow. Teammates cheering and patting me on my back, and raising my arm in victory and smiling. I saw none of it at the time, but I saw this when I came home. And I knew I had to do it. Would do it. COULD do it.

Me, after a near-death experience, surrounded by my TP sisters


I talked to my coaches. Got some pointers (apparently you're not supposed to breathe in through your nose at all when you're swimming), and realized I would need a swim angel for the actual race, and that meant I could do backstroke, as my angel would let me know if I was going off course. I practiced and practiced at the pool, and I watched YouTube videos on perfecting the backstroke. And I made it. There *was* a particularly unpleasant point at the end of the swim during the Tri where the Olympic heat swimmers passed me on one side, sending waves and splashes over my head, while the lily pads attacked from the other side, and it was really, really bad--so bad that I may never swim in open water again--but I still never thought I couldn't. (Thank you to my dear race swim angel for getting me through that!)
~~~~~Finally, though I haven't gushed about them on Facebook, my whole family was amazing and supportive. First of all, they all got up at the crack of dawn (even before coffee shops open) to drive an hour and be at the Tri by 6:00 am, and make awesome posters, and share amazing Facebook posts and Snapchat stories the day of the Tri. 




Cara's Facebook post. I'm told Mira snap-chatted it, but I'm not on snap chat, so have no way to verify that.

Greg, hugging me after placing my medal around my neck at the finish line

Each TP team member got one free purple supporter t-shirt, and could buy additional ones for other supporters. I asked my family if they each wanted one, or if just my "number one supporter" should get one. They decided it should be a competition to see who was proclaimed number one. Lots of events were proposed, but in the end it should be no surprise that they all are my number one supporters. And it wasn't just a one day event. They adjusted their schedules for the 14 weeks of trainings. They took on cooking and cleaning so I could drive up to an hour to practices, work out for 90 minutes, and drive an hour home. They ran and biked with me on my non-team practices. They put up with my endless stories about what I learned at practice that week ("Drop your heels on the bike to go up a hill!" "Carbs are good!" "Turn off your brain, turn on your breath," "Coach Lauren says..."), and so many stories about my new friends.
The whole family, in their supporter tees

I love you guys more than words can say. 

~~~~~

Finally, it should be said that all the wonderful corporate sponsors, and prior benefactors made this program possible for me. Every year it grows, and therefore costs more. If you are so inclined, I do have a fund-raising page (completely optional, but I only raise money for causes I truly believe in), and you may make a donation at my personal page.

~~~~~

One of the things I'm most excited about is becoming an orange shirter! Athletes wear purple TP shirts; coaches wear blue ones; medical staff wear red ones. But previous year alums can volunteer at practices in the future--and they get to wear the orange shirts. I've made so many more new friends who are previous year athletes. And I look forward to wearing an orange shirt next year.

~~~~~
Other photos:


We had professional shots taken in our jerseys where we got to wear makeup and do our hair. These three are mine.


Here's the Team Phoenix 2017 athletes:

And here's the whole group of 2017 athletes and supporters on the day of the triathlon. The photo had to be taken with a drone to fit us all. :)



(And if you've read this far, just so you know--5 days of cardio exercise a week really DOES help with the pain associated with cancer treatment side effects. My joint pain is essentially gone. My neuropathy in my feet is seriously minimized. And I do have more energy--and strength. All that's left now is the weight loss. I have high hopes. And Team Phoenix sisters to support and remind me about the importance of keeping it up!)