You might think I'm crazy when I tell you I woke up at 5 a.m. to complete a 20-mile long run this weekend. That's because I am. Actually the fact I'm training for my marathon debut, let alone dreaming about a possible win over 26.2 miles, is crazy considering the circumstances.
Too many times I've almost hung up the racing shoes for good. I didn't run a step due to a knee injury that kept me on the elliptical bicycle and in the pool for eight agonizing months in 2011 and I'm two years removed from a cancer diagnosis that nearly ended my athletic career. I've fought back from several cases of depression, taken a lot of criticism, and ignored a lot of negative people in my road back to where I am today, all for a chance at marathon glory on Nov. 8.
It might seem silly to put so much mileage, time and effort into one moment, but this isn't just one moment, it's the moment I've been waiting for for five difficult years. This isn't a life or death situation, but it means a lot to me.
In 2011 I was struggling with that knee injury that kept me away from the sport for eight months. At the time the Santa Clarita Valley Marathon was happening. Things didn't look good, and honestly, I thought that was end of running for me, but I remember turning to my best friend, Jessica, one day and telling her, "I'm going to come back and win that race some day." At the time I didn't know that knee injury would last eight months, and I certainly couldn't predict my cancer diagnosis. This race is all about a promise I made to myself five years ago; it's about the journey, which looked bleak far too often; and it's about my entire support system because without all of you I wouldn't be dreaming at all anymore.
Too many times I've almost hung up the racing shoes for good. I didn't run a step due to a knee injury that kept me on the elliptical bicycle and in the pool for eight agonizing months in 2011 and I'm two years removed from a cancer diagnosis that nearly ended my athletic career. I've fought back from several cases of depression, taken a lot of criticism, and ignored a lot of negative people in my road back to where I am today, all for a chance at marathon glory on Nov. 8.
It might seem silly to put so much mileage, time and effort into one moment, but this isn't just one moment, it's the moment I've been waiting for for five difficult years. This isn't a life or death situation, but it means a lot to me.
In 2011 I was struggling with that knee injury that kept me away from the sport for eight months. At the time the Santa Clarita Valley Marathon was happening. Things didn't look good, and honestly, I thought that was end of running for me, but I remember turning to my best friend, Jessica, one day and telling her, "I'm going to come back and win that race some day." At the time I didn't know that knee injury would last eight months, and I certainly couldn't predict my cancer diagnosis. This race is all about a promise I made to myself five years ago; it's about the journey, which looked bleak far too often; and it's about my entire support system because without all of you I wouldn't be dreaming at all anymore.
Since I found out I had cancer I've run one half-marathon (won the SCV Half-Marathon in 2013!) and trained for two marathons (got really sick a week before last year's SCV Marathon and February's Surf City Marathon). This build-up is a lot different for a variety of reasons. I'm certainly not saying there weren't any bumps in the road because there were a handful. This road has been a lot more smoother than the others. I have six weeks until I step onto the line at the SCV Marathon in my hometown and boy, do I feel confident about my chances. Yes, I'm still fighting Goliath, also known as cancer, but I'm familiar with the complexities that come with such a disease and ready to tackle it full on should it step in my way again. For the first time ever I feel positive I'm going to make it through an entire marathon training cycle.
This is a lot different than when I debuted in the half-marathon two years ago too. I know what it's like to compete in a race longer the 8,000 meters I was used to from college or the 3 miles I ran in high school. I know what it's like to hurt and what it takes to succeed in the longer races. Guts, perseverance and heart are just a few things needed to conquer the distance thrown at you. Of course racing 26.2 miles is nerve-racking no matter how you look at it, but I told a couple of my training partners, Ryan and Jacob, the distance doesn't scare me the most. Getting to the starting line healthy does.
This is a lot different than when I debuted in the half-marathon two years ago too. I know what it's like to compete in a race longer the 8,000 meters I was used to from college or the 3 miles I ran in high school. I know what it's like to hurt and what it takes to succeed in the longer races. Guts, perseverance and heart are just a few things needed to conquer the distance thrown at you. Of course racing 26.2 miles is nerve-racking no matter how you look at it, but I told a couple of my training partners, Ryan and Jacob, the distance doesn't scare me the most. Getting to the starting line healthy does.
I hope to accomplish what every cancer fighter dreams of -- victory. I'm almost two and half years into my battle with leukemia and still not in remission. According to studies, only 3-percent of cancers in children and young adults is chronic myeloid leukemia and the average age people get CML is 64. Eighty-percent of people diagnosed with cancer are also in full remission within two years. I state these statistics for one simple reason -- I'm an outlier. I don't know what this means, I don't know when or if I'll ever reach full remission status, and I don't know how many years I have with all you amazing people, which is the scariest thing in the world. What I do know is I've been blessed with a pretty amazing opportunity. It's not often someone fighting cancer gets to run a marathon. Now winning one? I don't know if anyone has.
I know this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because your good health is never guaranteed. Cherish it because you never know when it'll be gone. I pray to God every night I make it to starting line this time, just for a shot at a win in the SCV Marathon on Nov. 8. I also carry that white rosary I found the night of my cancer diagnosis everywhere I go not just as a reminder of everything I've fought through to get here, but in hopes it'll bring me good fortune every day.
I know this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because your good health is never guaranteed. Cherish it because you never know when it'll be gone. I pray to God every night I make it to starting line this time, just for a shot at a win in the SCV Marathon on Nov. 8. I also carry that white rosary I found the night of my cancer diagnosis everywhere I go not just as a reminder of everything I've fought through to get here, but in hopes it'll bring me good fortune every day.
For now my focus is on a long-awaited marathon debut in six weeks from today, the moment I've been waiting for for five difficult years; in my story winning this race is the equivalent of winning an Olympic gold medal.
- Brando
- Brando
"You just have to live life and do what you can do to make it a full life. You only have a certain amount of time here. Don't wait for those golden years because those golden years might not come, and the years go by quick, and the older you get the quicker the years go by. It's just one big blur if you don't try something new and make some memories."
~Michael Westphal
~Michael Westphal