Personal Worst
July 5th, 2011
Since I finished treatment, I’ve been a half-marathonin’ fool.
I ran the NYC in March with a childhood friend.
I ran the Nashville in April.
This is one of those race photos they try to sell you. Hehe.
I took May off, but was back at it again in June, this time in Seattle.
Me and my Seattle running buddies. They stuck by me the whole way.
Interesting Fact: We have 10 kids between us.
How do I explain this marathoning madness? Simple. I know myself.
When I asked my oncologist what I could do to minimize my odds of recurrence, she said, “You will hear a lot of things. But there are only two things we know for sure. Exercise regularly and keep yourself to your lowest healthy weight.”
I am a compliant patient, but I knew I would be even more compliant with these goals on the horizon.
So that’s that. I don’t want the cancer to come back. Plus there are added bonuses.
When I run regularly, I feel better. I’m more confident in my body. It’s the only time I actually enjoy my booblessness.
Vigorous exercise marks a clear before/after for my treatment. I couldn’t run during treatment because of my extreme nausea and pain. Now I can.
Running helps me combat post-treatment fatigue. I sleep more deeply and have more energy when I’m running.
Running is an individual sport but runners compete against themselves. “To PB” is a verb — it means to get your personal best time.
So I thought that by running three races in four months, I would PB by the end.
I was wrong. I PW’d.
That’s right. I got my Personal Worst.
I’m not one for excuses but I do like a good story, so here goes. Pull up a chair and stay awhile.
Devoted readers of my blog may recall that I started an experimental use of an old medication, Metformin, in early May to prevent the cancer from recurring. My oncologist reassured me that any side-effects would be short lived. She obviously forgot she was talking to the side-effect queen.
I was so nauseous, I ended up back in bed most evenings. My doctor told me to take Zofran, the big guns anti-nausea drug. It only kind of helped and heaped on new side effects like dizziness and constipation. It was one thing to endure those when I could lie in bed all day during chemo. But I’m trying to hold down a full time job and raise a young family here.
I tried cutting my dose in half, reasoning that taking some of the drug was better than none of it. They had to back off on my chemo dose because of my bad reactions, so why wouldn’t I do the same thing with the Metformin? When the nausea persisted, diabetic friends offered suggestions. Cut down on your carbs. Take it with meals.
I tried all of the above, to no avail.
Worse yet, the nausea and related fatigue started to cut into my running. Exerting one’s self while dizzy and pukey is highly unappealing. As I pulled back on training, I started losing some of the ground I had gained in my wellness. I went from feeling better to pretty bad again.
The morning of the Seattle race, I took my medicine before the run.
I spent the first 8 miles feeling nauseous.
“Slow down a little, I’m sorry,” I kept telling my friends.
They obliged, insisting that it was all about running together.
And we did. We ran the whole way, except for the water stations. And my insistence on high-fiving the kids who came out to cheer for the runners. And to thank the people carrying flags to remember fallen soldiers.
Oh, and the potty stop.
But we ran and we ended with the uniquely exhilarating feeling of delicious endorphins coursing through our veins.
Even a PW wasn’t terrible.
But that was the beginning of the end of my affair with Metformin.
When I got back home, I had an evening where I became arrested by nausea. That was the final straw.
Why, I reasoned, am I trading in something I know will help me (exercise) for something that might help me (Metformin)?
So I stopped taking the pills.
Today I met with the nurse in the Survivorship Clinic. She’s a runner so she appreciated my PW tale. She has seen a lot of people on Metformin and her opinion was this:
The running is more important. The drug is a hypothetical. Metformin is hard for some people, and it sounds like you are one of those people. Quality of life matters and you need to keep exercising.
Cancer and survivorship often involve selecting between two crappy options. It feels unsettling not to do something medically to keep the cancer from recurring. But it felt even worse when I tried to.
My PW clarified the best of the crappy options. Stop the drugs and keep running.
And keep finding ways to hang out with good friends. They’ll make it fun, even when it is your worst time ever.
This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 5th, 2011 at 8:36 pm and is filed under Survivorship, Wellness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
Oh Lani,
Do you know how many women you are going to help, who are wondering if they should keep doing something they don’t want to do and that doesn’t feel right to them? More than you could possibly guess, I think. God bless you.
thank you, jackie. xo
Good for you on all counts. Every drug is such a personal decision. I tried 1/2 dose of Arimidex on & off for months and turned into wifezilla; within days of taking a full dose I was debilitated with pain.
I stopped taking it and didn’t look for a pharmaceutical alternative. Fear of recurrence nips at my heels, but I believe it helped to take off 20 pounds & keep active.
My oncologist gave me the same support your Survivorship nurse gave to you. Trust my body – feed it, move it.
Never have been a runner, but on days that I don’t spend hours digging & hauling things around the garden, I love my rebounder or a good hike. There’s nothing like breathless activity to clear out the physical and mental cobwebs.
As always, you are an inspiration. The heartfelt connections I’ve made through Twitter never cease to delight and amaze me. Run, ChemoBabe, Run!!
xoxxo
thanks laurie. i hope everybody looks at the data (like I know you did) when weighing these choices. if we simply avoided what makes us feel bad, some of us would never make it through any of the treatment. it becomes ambiguous when we are supposed to be “finished” and everybody’s expectations shift, assuming we are “normal.”
good for you for finding ways to embrace your health. thank you, as always, for your support. xox
Exercise is wonderful for one’s health, and I’m so proud (and in awe) of you running some pretty challenging races, it seems.
Side effects surely suck, don’t they? Keep striving and keep the running shoes on!!
thanks beth!
Lani
I love you and respect you tons. Your decision makes so much sense, but at the same time, takes wicked guts to make. You are my SuperBabe and always will be. Peace and much love….
uvmer
love you too, nancy. xoxo
Hi CB!
Yet another great post! Your topic came at a good time for me . . . thank you. I am (was . . . no, AM) a runner too. However, I take Tamoxifen (since my her2 cancer was also PR and ER positive). I have struggled quite a bit with this medication. Some people have no problem with it. But, I too was a side effect queen. During chemo I went into anaphylactic shock (Taxotere was not my friend).
It took me over half a year to get on the full dose Tamoxifen. I kept trying to get to that dose, but, the drug put me upside down (nausea, incredibly dizzy, pain . . . mostly it was the nausea that really, really got to me). So I kept taking a half dose – like you, with the metformin, I thought it was better than not taking any dose. Well, over time I was able to move up to the full dose – or so I thought. The pain that I now have is debilitating. I ran/walked a 5K (something I normally would have run all out, and easily) yesterday. It was very difficult for me. Some days are better than others. But, for the most part, Tamoxifen is so disruptive for me that I am losing out on quality of life big time.
My oncologist is adamant that I stay on it. But, I do not know if I can. And what is happening is I am losing out on exercise. In my case, Tamoxifen is supposedly a known cancer recurrence reducer. But, I wonder if it is worth it. I am signed up for a half and WILL do it. But, I may have to leave Tamoxifen behind in order to get there.
Thank you for your post. It has given me some encouragement and confidence to consider an alternative.
Thank you for some much needed inspiration!
Lisa
oh lisa… i feel for you. i have thought how different this decision would be with tamoxifen, which is a well understood drug in comparison. i have seen data on tamoxifen and recurrence, and it is very compelling. it sounds like you are doing everything you can — including walking that 5K. i think you need to put it in perspective. for you, a 5K walk is what a 13.1 mile run is for me. it’s a reason to celebrate.
sending love
I just wanted to let you know that you, my dear friend Lani, have inspired me to run my first half marathon. I have been thinking about it for a while but couldn’t quite muster up the motivation. Then when I saw you were back at it doing half marathons, I thought, wow, I have no excuse! So, I signed up for the Nike Women’s Half with Team in Training. You inspire me, Lani, each and every day in many different ways!
my ole track team buddy!! i’m so proud! i can’t wait to see the picture of the fireman in the tux giving you your medal. *sigh*
love you jewels.
Such a tough choice, Lani. Yet, another forced upon by cancer, but I’m glad you were able to come to a decision that allows you to run. I love reading your posts about running, about feeling strong and healthy. I always find you so inspiring. Ok, off the couch time for me too, thanks!
yay! if my writing helps get people off the couch, then i’ve done something good. i’m glad to support you stacey. xo
Lani, I struggled through all five years of Arimidex. The only thing that kept me hanging on was exercise. I’m not a runner, but a walker over rough terrain on the ranch and on the treadmill at the gym. If I missed a day, I felt ancient, and if I didn’t miss a day, I was still in pain and miserable.
You’re well-informed and intensely motivated so I have no doubt you’ve made the best decision for you. James always called me the “Princess & the Pea” because of my ability to react badly to most everything. I agree the exercise is key.
Thanks for letting other women know that sometimes you just can’t take the meds and that it doesn’t mean you’re not doing your best to be a survivor.
XOXOXO,
Brenda
thanks, brenda. i am so proud of you for toughing out the armidex. i am guessing if i had been put on armidex or tamoxifen, i would have to figure out a way to muscle through. the data are just too compelling. i’m impressed that you managed to exercise anyway.
i guess the message is that everything is better with a little exercise, whatever you can do.
xoxox
Lani,
This is one of the best posts I’ve read yet about the terrific medical care: an empowered patient working with a competent, caring physician.
QUALITY OF LIFE trumps early research – especially when it involves cutting into the fabulous preventive benefits of exercise.
You know how I feel about exercise and the sheer mental and physical (sometimes I think the mental benefits are even greater) benefits it provides.
So so proud of you:)
Much love,
Jody
yes! i swear my chemobrain fades when i do long runs. i don’t understand it physiologically, but that alone makes me crave my runs and feel a new layer of yukky when i don’t lace up my shoes.
love to you, biking blogging babe!
xoxo
Lani,
Thanks for so openly sharing your story about this tough choice. I hate that cancer sometimes forces us, as you said, to pick between two crappy options. I’m not a runner, but I’m trying to walk four miles every day because I know it’s something I can do to try to prevent recurrence. Yet it’s really frustrating at the same time because the scale isn’t budging, weight gain is a side effect of my med, along with many others. Sometimes I do wonder about these meds… In your case, I think you absolutely made the right choice for you. So proud of you too!!
nancy, if you are on a hormone suppressor, i imagine that the weight does not come off easily. just know that you are doing so much good for your heart, bones, and everything else on those walks.
… and hopefully a little bit for your stress and soul too.
love you. xo
CB – doesn’t sound like a PW to me! Sounds like it was a great way for you to think about your decision… what better way to do that than running? It was great to read about how you’ve made this very personal decision and do what feels right for you. I have often felt that bc treatment was just a series of decision making where all the choices were crap… sigh.
Thank you for writing about this issue of quality of life too.
Keep running… love, Sarah
Thank you for an inspiring post! I exercised all through chemo (except those really crappy first few days) and have since (most recently zumba and body pump classes). This helps w/the SE of tamoxifen and just makes me feel strong and capable. I’m sure when I go off the tamoxifen, I will have that “but I’m not taking anything to keep it at bay” discomfort but with diet and exercise, I will be. I second Jody’s “quality of life” comment. Today is what I know I have, I want to make the most of it.
I am counting down the time until I can exercise again! I walked 30 minutes a day the first few months of treatment and it had such a great impact on my mood and how I felt physically. Unexpected surgeries and pain from Taxol sort of put a damper on things, but I am so excited to start again when I can for every reason you listed here. I do think you have to weigh quality of life, and I am glad you chose what is best for you!
i loved reading this post and am in so much awe that you can run like this! i take metformin since i got diagnosed with DM II last December. no family history. MD thinks it was ‘kick-started’ by one of the chemotherapy agents i took duirng treatment. also have abnormal liver and kidney studies…thank you so much breast cancer!!
What an inspiration your blog post! Congratulations on running all those marathons. Very impressive!
I’m also a runner, but not of marathons. In early May this year I ran my first 5K. At least it was a start, and it was uphill and then downhill. That run gave me quite the breast cancer patient workout. It was my PB because it was my only run. But if next year my pace is slower, I won’t be upset. I’ll remember your story and know that as long as I’m doing what I like and helping to keep recurrence at bay, I am golden. Now I just need to grab some friends to keep me accountable.
Brava!
OMG i love this piece. here I sat today, a very lame runner wanting to register for a half in baltimore in the fall wondering if I could do it. I will take your PW any day girl! You inspired me to get back at it and quit whining…i did a blog a while back called Salt, about me being a whoosie…and yeah I’m gonna do it!
Lauren
Love your blog. Great info.
Hey, side effect queen! Give me back my crown!
I quit tamoxifen because the bone pain was so bad. After they removed my ovaries, they put me on arimidex. After 15 days, I was having such bone pain that at one point, I was unable to walk. It felt as if every bone in my feet were broken, and the pain was sickening. (Can you say ‘out of the frying pan, into the fire?’) I now have a goal. I’m working these old bones. You’re a good role model for me.
Hi there,
Thanks for the inspiration! I came upon your blog while doing a search for Tamoxifen/runners, and was moved by your story.
I am a competitive runner who was derailed by breast cancer. I trained through radiation, and ran a Boston Qualifying marathon a month after I finished. But I struggle, a year after my surgery, to regain the form and speed I had before. Tamoxifen doesn’t give me too many side effects, but it does make me run HOT, and training during the summer is almost unbearable.
Has anyone else had this experience with Tamoxifen and running?
Thanks everyone for sharing your stories and experiences!!
KP