My Passion for Pavement

 
I am overwhelmed beyond words by the outpouring of support for me at the Chicago Marathon! So many people and so much money! YOU are what Team in Training is all about. This is an avenue for all of you to give hope to those fighting cancer. As individuals, we can touch a few. As a TEAM, we touch thousands! This passion of mine is only possible because of generous donors who help make my dreams a reality. I can only stand back and shake my head in amazement at what we have accomplished together.
 
Drum roll please…..$4,627! That is HUGE!!! 
 
Over 70 different families from all over the country, and even overseas have made this happen! You reached deep to support me, to honor my Mom and to honor your own loved ones. Your sacrifices will indeed change the lives of those affected by these vicious blood cancers. I am blessed with amazingly generous friends and I cannot begin to express the gratitude I feel. I wish I could reach out and hug each one of you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you!
 
Many people have asked where I find the determination to take on marathons. Partially it’s because I am truly my Mother’s child and I’m half crazy. The rest of it is because it’s personal, but without the help of all of you, none of this would even be possible. You have played a vital role in the success of my quest for a cure. I want to share with you the success that I have seen first hand and you will understand why your role is vital.
 
Mom’s leukemia diagnosis came in 1996. Fortunately the disease progressed slowly and it wasn’t until 2002 when she needed her first round of chemo. The chemo was successful in treating her cancer but the side effects were horrible. Several months into her treatment I went with her to the doctor. My memory of that day is still vivid. The doctor offered Mom a deal she couldn’t refuse. She could stop treatment immediately and avoid the torturous side effects of another month of chemo. The doctor described it as gambling. He said she could walk away with the progress she had made and bet that research over the next few years would result in a new drug that she could better tolerate. She took the bet and ran. 
 
I’m not much for gambling. I prefer the sure thing. I decided I would do whatever I could to ensure the right drug was ready when Mom needed it. A couple years later I discovered the partnership between Team in Training and the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I realized this would be the way I could directly impact cancer research and drug development. I ran the Country Music Half Marathon with TNT in 2006 and the San Diego Rock ‘N’ Roll Marathon with TNT in 2008.
 
Early last year it became clear that Mom would need chemo again. There was one lingering question that we needed answered. What would be the drug of choice this time? Would her only option be the same drug from 2002 that she could not tolerate, or would her bet pay off? You can guess how this story ends. Indeed there are new drugs in use now and she received some of them during her chemo last year. When the doctor told us that he would be using a new drug, miles and miles of pavement flashed before my eyes. The aches, pains, tears and agony of Nashville and San Diego were all worth it for that one moment when the bet paid off! This is why I run and this is why you give, for that one moment when a doctor can give a patient good news. Medicine is not an exact science and no two people are exactly the same. What works for one does not necessarily work for another. Research and drug development must continue. Your generosity ensures that research goes on. You are paying it forward and I’m forever grateful.  
 
The Chicago Marathon is all about celebrating life in our family. A marathon is a shining example of my Mother, her perseverance, her dedication, her adventure and quite frankly her “get over yourself and just do it” attitude.
 
Thank you for taking this journey with me.
Thank you for loving me.
Thank you for trusting me to run the race until the finish.
Many, many thanks for CELEBRATING LIFE with me!
 
Copyright © Gatewood Campbell, October 2011
 

I Run

I run because I can.

I run because it matters.

I run because it makes me feel alive.

I run because I love the peace of the open road.

I run because I need my regular dose of girlfriend time.

I run because I am a little bit crazy and sometimes completely nuts.

I run because I like to eat ice cream.

I run because Epilepsy does not define me.

I run because a brain injury does not stop me.

I run because I love to see humanity in its purest form. The raw anticipation, excitement, bliss, bite me, relief and WOW I did it!

Every runner has a story. Some thing, some event, some life-story that gives us the desire to pound the pavement for a ridiculous number of miles and a ridiculous amount of time. There is a story in front of each step, in each step and behind each step.

Running is not about the destination. Running is about the journey. The journey of endurance, perseverance and the glorious victory of covering the distance.

I run because it is simple.

I run because I simply love it.

I’m running Chicago, because that’s the way I roll.

Copyright © Gatewood Campbell, September 2011

The HOV Lane Leads to Chicago

I’ve been traveling through fog on a deserted road for the last couple of months. I’ve had the headlights on, but the road remained dark and twisted. If I dared to turn on the bright lights and get a glimpse of the road ahead, it frightened me. So I dimmed the lights, squinted my eyes and hesitantly drove on. In a brief moment of bravery, I turned on the bright lights and took a glance at my surroundings. I discovered the beauty of the HOV lane. People were thumbing a ride with me. No one cared my rate of travel, nor my route, nor the personal investment. Friends were standing by, wanting to help, asking to help, taking action to help. You have called me, emailed me, texted me, commented on my blog, and posted to my FB wall. You have shown up at my house with meals to feed our family and relieved me of cooking for several more weeks. I’ve been overwhelmed by your generosity and blessed by the outpouring of support of our friends. I’m not prone to accept help, but you offered freely, and I discovered immense relief in accepting it. I don’t know how to express my gratitude for the love you have shown me during this frustrating detour, except to let you know that you have made it easier. Thank you for sharing my burden. I needed to pass along my fear and my anger and you allowed it. When I can’t see past the tip of my nose to get through a day, you have taken the wheel and let me stretch out in the back seat and rest until I have the energy to grab the wheel again. This is not going to be a quick trip, and there will be some unexpected stops along the way, but the finish line is on my radar. You have brought light to my path. Thank you for making it possible for me to see through the fog.

The results of our two-week trial have shown that the meds I’ve been on for the last five years aren’t doing the job for me anymore. So it’s out with the old and in with the new. I’m trading in for a different model, the newer and hopefully more improved model. We have plotted a new route, but my rate of travel is going to be slow. It will take 6 weeks to gradually wean off of one drug and on to the new drug. I would be kidding myself if I said the timing of this change did not bother me. My next marathon is 8 weeks from now. You do the math…I’m going to spend the next 6 weeks in the toughest part of my marathon training…while weaning off of one anti-seizure drug and onto a brand new drug that I have never used before. I have no idea if it will work, what side effects I will encounter or how it will play with my mind. Nervous? Yes. Quitting? Not even an option! When I set out to run the Chicago Marathon, I decided I was going to run it to celebrate life. More specifically, I’m running Chicago with Team in Training to celebrate my Mom’s life as a Leukemia Survivor. I’m still doing that and I’m just adding more incentive to conquer the windy city. I’m going to celebrate the gift of the ability to run the open road. When so much of my life right now is unknown, there is one thing that I know. I WILL COVER THE DISTANCE. This time, the challenge is going to be a little bigger, because I guess 26.2 miles isn’t a big enough challenge. But I’m here to say that I’m up for it, and I’m not backing down (unless a random metal sign falls on my head and knocks me down…true story). I’m running Chicago, and my Mom is going to be waiting for me at the finish line and we will Celebrate Life and Celebrate Survivors…together!

Copyright © Gatewood Campbell, August 2011