Running 26.2 Miles Away From Thyroid Cancer

Running a marathon requires preparation, patience and endurance--like most everything in life that's worth doing.

I've run 3 full marathons, and I'm currently training for my fourth. The first three were before my thyroid cancer diagnosis. If I finish the LA Marathon on March 21, it'll be my first marathon since having my thyroid removed and having 2 radioactive iodine treatments to try to get rid of the rest of the cancer cells...some of which, unfortunately, remain.

So I guess I'll be running with cancer. I guess this morning when I cooked breakfast, I cooked breakfast with cancer. I don't think about it that much, but it's true, I suppose.

In some weird way, if I finish this marathon (and I intend to; I've finished the others), I think I'll be telling my thyroid cancer off. ("Thyroid cancer, you suck. Get lost.")

I never would have started to run marathons if it weren't for my little sister, Carolyn, who started running marathons after her MS diagnosis almost 11 years ago. I always thought it was absolutely INSANE to run 26.2 miles (and I still do think it's insane, even though I do it), and while she ran her first 6 marathons, I just shook my head and said only crazy people would want to run that far. Then, in 2004, I hit a rough patch in life and started training for my first one. Training took my mind off what was bothering me at the time, and having a goal 6 months away gave my brain something healthy to fixate on.

Finishing the LA Marathon in March of 2005 gave me such a great feeling of accomplishment, and I earned a little respect from myself for myself. (Yes, I threw up behind a dumpster after I crossed the finish line, but that's small potatoes as post-marathon horror stories go...) Training for and finishing my next two marathons in 2006 and 2007 kept me focused on the positive while life, with its many challenges, moved forward.

2008 brought with it several neck ultrasounds, an inconclusive biopsy, a thyroidectomy, a cancer diagnosis and my first radioactive iodine treatment. 2009 brought another radioactive iodine treatment and some considerable worry because I still couldn't say I HAD thyroid cancer. Evidence points to the fact that I still HAVE it.

And now, training for my fourth (and, I think, final) marathon, I'm able to focus on doing something good for my body while it's in limbo between cancer and the cancer-free status I want so much. I know I can't run the cells out of my body, but maybe I can persuade them they're not welcome here.

Here's to crossing the finish line and convincing thyroid cancer that I can--and will--outrun it.