It's Got to be FUN

By Steve | Published: June 5, 2009

I know I always talk about swim, bike, and run racing and training and how much I love it. And these things really are extremely important to me. But I may have failed to properly convey an important point and I want to be clear on something. I am not one of those guys that is so type A that I obsess about my race times or finishes. Yes, I have goals, as everyone should. But I don’t live and die by my results. I am not one of those guys who gets so wrapped up into training for something that real life becomes an obstacle to their goal. Enjoying life IS the goal and the rest of this stuff should only compliment that. It needs to all tie together and none of it should fight for sole possession of you. If your chocolate becomes a stressor, then you need to rethink how you look at your chocolate, or even find a new one. And I have no problem reminding some of my comrades, who may take this stuff a little too seriously, that you can’t really enjoy frozen chocolate.

Sometimes I think many of us have a tendency to get a little too wrapped up in racing and training and we forget that this stuff is supposed to be fun. In a time of advanced training tools and techniques, faster, lighter and better…. everything, it’s easy to get so focused on technology and performance that we forget to make sure the experiences are enjoyable. I know many people who won’t even get in the saddle unless it’s going to be a ride of at least 20 miles. Anything less is “just not worth it”.

Every once in a while make it a point to get back to basics by keeping it simple enough to be able to appreciate what’s going on around you. Ride your bike like you did when you were 12 years old. (With a helmet of course and without a rider on the handlebars) Run a few errands on an old beat up bike. Ride to a lake with a good book (preferable NOT a training guide!) and hang out for a little while. Or, leave the watch and heart rate monitor at home and run to the local convenience store with a backpack to pick up a few essentials. If you have kids, ride or run to their weekend soccer game. Ride the boardwalk of your favorite seashore at 8 miles per hour just so you can enjoy the scenery. Or run barefoot on the beach at sunrise.

These are all ways that although they won’t etch a lot of miles in the training log, they get you outside, they get you moving and they keep you fresh. These are particularly good on days when you are spent, have no training motivation and just can’t seem to get moving. Rather than take a scratch for the day, do something fun and simple. It will also jump-start your motivation.

Have FUN

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Why I Do What I Do

By Steve | Published: June 1, 2009

I am conviced that there are so many “reasons” for my leukemia diagnosis and more importantly, there are reasons that have drivien me to do the things that I have done as a result of my diagnosis. I may not always know what those reasons are, but the people that I have been able to connect with are too many to mention or even count. I wanted to take a minute and share just a couple of examples of people who have found me or stumbled upon me… or tripped over me as a result of my diagnosis. When I receive emails like the ones below, I feel like I have a greater purpose and clearer direction. In reading a few of these, maybe you will better understand why I continue to do what I do.

Steve,

A friend of mine sent me the link to remissionman.com, and I felt the need to reach out to a fellow triathlete/former soccer player/leukemia surviving dad. After browsing your site, I’m beginning to think we’re cosmically joined at the hip as the similarities are almost scary. I won’t bore you with the details–you’ve lived them–but I just wanted to enlist you as a valuable member of my own support crew if you’re willing. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since I was diagnosed in late 2004, you can never have too many friends. Holler back if you get a moment. Until then, be well. In health and happiness -

Steve,

It’s great to read about your story. I was just starting triathlons before my surgery. Someday I’ll get back to it. Gotta take care of a few things first… Keep up the good work!

Steve,

Thank you so much for your story. I too have CLL and am in complete remission. I am less fit and older and your story has inspired me to do something about the “fit” part. Thanks again. Good luck.

Steve,

You are a true inspiration. I am Vince’s wife Janet and I relived your struggles. Vince and you are very similar. Janet Papale

Steve,

Hi…

My husband is a follower of Graeme Street and a believer in the Hammer nutritional products. He came upon the feature article on you in the January issue of Endurance NEWS. While CLL is probably more common than people realize, we have never seen any articles written about people, athletes like yourself, who have had this disease.

I was diagnosed with CLL in 1996 at the age of 47 because of blood work that I had requested just for a good physical only to find my white count was higher than normal. The doctors just kept an eye on it but it never subsided and in 2000 I began therapy and had an autologous bone marrow transplant. I was out of remission after 5 years and again we played the wait and see game. I will be starting chemo in March to try and get back into remission.

I have been biking for many years as well as skiing, doing some weight training and anything else to keep healthy. I think I have succeeded with as much as I am able to control. I have always felt good except during treatment.

I guess the point of writing to you is to try to find out as much as I can about what you did to keep yourself fit-Hammer products in particular as well as your nutrition in general. I am very active and do follow a good diet-except for the love of chocolate, dark of course.

The article actually was refreshing compared to all of the depressing articles on the Internet which I have stopped reading long ago. I want to remain as active and as vibrant as possible not only for myself but for my husband and 6 grandchildren. I really don’t have time for set backs.

Please let me know what you did, what your treatments consisted of, and how your disease progressed.

Steve,

I read your bio on your web site and was very intrigued. I guess I am sending this email because I too have a story. 1 1/2 years ago I quit smoking and drinking and began running. I did my first sprint triathlon (Irongirl)last August and have completed 2 marathons so far. Not only that but in 1995 I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. I just became a certified fitness trainer as well. I too want to be people’s inspiration. I believe if I could do these things anyone can. I want to help people have their own stories to inspire others, I am not sure how to do this, any advice? Thank you

And those are a few reasons why I do what I do.

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A Guy, His Dog, and Chocolate

By Steve | Published: May 20, 2009

OK, so this weekend I hit the shore with my bike and one of my dogs. There was a family bridal shower this weekend which kept the rest of the clan home. Just like the New Jersey Marathon a couple of weeks ago, I raced again in driving wind and rain. It was the Ocean City Triathlon & Duathlon in OCNJ. It’s a small race that I have done many times and know like the back of my hand. It is held on the streets and the boardwalk that I train on all the time. I love the event, but this was a wet one. The wind on the bike was so bad that we were being blown sideways and had to negotiate threading a tight needle between a traffic lane, and parked cars. At times it felt like we were biking into an oncoming wave. I opted to do the duathlon which started with a run up and onto the boardwalk and back. Then a 16 mile bike along West Ave. Followed by a second run through the Bay Ave neighborhoods.

The first run went really well. I think people just wanted to get this thing done and get home as quickly as possible. I felt surprising strong coming off of that run and fully anticipated a good bike leg (my strength). WHICH, for all intents and purposes, I suppose I did have. I mean, it was ugly for everyone so the playing field was level. The rain shorted out my bike computer so I had no idea how fast I was going. Fortunately I knew the course well so I just deployed the “catch anyone in front of you, and don’t get caught” race strategy. And I tend to thrive a little in the elements and finished with a solid bike split. As we were heading out for the second run, we all realized a few things …. The rain was coming down even harder …. We were cold ….. and had very little feeling in our hands and feet. A few people had much difficulty switching from cycling shoes to running shoes. I felt so stupid about it, I was laughing at myself in transition. Did you ever try running with your feet being water logged and “asleep” ? They came back to life about a mile and a half into the second run and I was able to finish surprising strong, all things considered.

Weather is just one of those things that although you can plan for, you can never control so you need to make sure you have it properly compartmentalized in your head and psyche as you mentally prepare for an event. Understand that stuff can happen, but remember that it’s how we respond to that stuff that measures our character.

I grabbed a hot cup of Wawa Kona blend java (I only drink Kona blend because that’s where the Ironman world championship is held each year) on my way back to the house and enjoyed the best hot shower of my life. Then I assumed a good position on the couch with my java, my dog, and my iPod and reflected on a great, fun day. This stuff is just fun no matter what the conditions. The harsher the conditions, the greater the challenge. The greater the challenge, the greater the sense of accomplishment. The greater the sense of accomplishment, the better and more long lasting the memory.

I also want to give public kudos and thanks to race director Lisa Rumer, her staff at the Ocean City Aquatic & Fitness Center, and all of the volunteers. Volunteering at events in these conditions can be just as hard as racing them !!

Their support was appreciated.

THANKS FOR A GOOD DAY.

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Don't Forget Your Chocolate

By Steve | Published: May 17, 2009

OK, I don’t mean chocolate as in the cocoa product. I mean chocolate in terms of doing special something for yourself that you love and are passionate about that also fills a void, and satisfies a need, or a sweet tooth. I’m talking about whatever it is that you do that is your “go to” thing to keep you emotionally balanced and on track. Everyone needs something.

By now you all know that my chocolate involves some sort of swimming, biking, or running. (And writing, coaching, speaking, working with kids, or mentoring.) These are the things that I need. These are the things that satisfy my sweet tooth. Take them away from me for a brief period of time and a void is left behind that leaves me restless, uneasy, and a little depressed. Take them away from me for a longer period of time and the consequences could be worse. However, one of my strengths is the ability to adapt. So, I suppose, if faced with a dire situation, I would be able to find some replacement chocolate, but I prefer not to think in those terms.

You can’t plod on day after day dealing with life and all of the issues associated with life without a little chocolate. And it really doesn’t matter what form your chocolate takes. Whether you run, bike, rock climb, knit, bird watch, skydive, or cook …. Go do it.

And most importantly, enjoy it.

We all need some chocolate.

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Never, Ever Forgotten

By Steve | Published: May 13, 2009

Here is a race report of a different color. Although the race referenced is the 2007 ChesapeakeMan Ultra Distance Triathlon, there is not much race detail in here. This report is an open letter to anyone who has ever lost someone meaningful in their lives. This report is a letter to my dad who we lost in August of 2005. Although never a triathlete, he exemplified the ironman spirit – especially in his final days. Although this is a little dated, I think it’s another message worth sharing to my FOX friends. And folks, if you have something to say to a living friend, relative, or loved one, SAY IT TODAY.

Dear Dad,

Well, I finished another ironman this past weekend. Conditions were pretty brutal but I finished strong – and happy. I reached out to you a few times and knew you were there. Perhaps that is the reason why I didn’t feel like I got too beat up during the race – in spite of some very challenging conditions. Although you never got the chance to see me race an ironman, I know how proud you were of my accomplishments. I really wish you saw one. Maybe we can try to bring mom next time, but it’s such a long day.

The race itself was quite tough. There were huge swells in the water and harsh winds. Two buoys were blown off course and the entire swim was a challenge. The winds kept up on the bike which added to the adversity. But this IS ironman. It’s not supposed to be easy. I had a few moments of wavering self pity. But this is a sport; a hobby. I signed up for this. And the reality of it is, even with the tough conditions, I had the time of my life and can’t wait to go back and do it again. I didn’t race my fastest time but far from my slowest and I did pretty good actually given the conditions.

I have been wearing your WWII dog tag recently too. In fact we have a couple of cool race pictures of my shirt unzipped and the tag flying. When I am racing and my mind is wandering, I sometimes think of your war experiences and try to compare and draw parallels on a simplistic level to what you may have gone through in the islands of the South Pacific. Maybe it’s stupid to make such a comparison between sport and the real world, but the mind goes funny (and stupid) places during an ironman. I get a finisher’s medal – you received the Purple Heart.

You would have been especially proud of this one dad; the support crew was out in full force. I’m a pretty lucky guy to have my wife, 2 daughters, and brother in law, nephew, and college roommate all out on race day cheering, supporting and volunteering. How many people can say that their families helped them with their special needs bags, placed a finisher’s medal around their neck, ran with them across the finish line, and filmed video and took pictures along the way? It makes the races so much more special. I pictured you sitting in the bleachers at the finish. The same way you would sit with mom at baseball games when I was a kid. You were proud then too.

And this particular race – The ChesapeakeMan Ultra Distance Triathlon is very special. Although it’s not huge in numbers, it is run by a world class organization that makes each and every athlete and their family members all feel like champions. It is run by a race director whose staff cares more for the spirit and the camaraderie of the event than anywhere else I have ever seen. He works diligently to make sure the athletes and families walk away from the race saying, “Wow that was a very special experience”. These are your kind of people, dad.

We stayed at a friend’s house near the race so we had the chance to enjoy the day after the race, which, incidentally, yielded perfect weather conditions. We all hung out on Sunday and enjoyed each other’s company and the beauty of the Cambridge area. All in all, it was a great weekend, a great race, a great venue shared by great people. I connected with some good friends and made a few new ones. That’s the beauty of this sport. I can’t wait to return.

I also go back in next week for some more preventative maintenance chemotherapy for the Leukemia. No worries on that front though. It’s purely maintenance and part of the plan. Plus I get to sit in a recliner for 4 hours and be waited on. It’s not a bad deal at all.

Gotta run for now but we’ll talk soon. Thanks for helping me notch ironman number 9 into my belt. Oh, and mom is well. She is being taken care of and doing great. Have a great day (I guess they’re all great now).

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Slow Down and See More

By Steve | Published: May 10, 2009

One of the points that I made while speaking at the pre race pasta dinner at the New Jersey Marathon was how different your scenery and surroundings look when you run down a road versus when you drive a car down that same road.

When you run down a road, even one you are quite familiar with, you notice things for the first time; a hidden driveway, a screened in porch, a side street, a dog pen, children playing, a couple on a porch swing…. whatever. You SEE things for the first time because you have slowed down to a pace in which you are actually capable of comprehending and understanding what it is that you are seeing. You miss alot when you fly down a road at 60 MPH.

Well, you miss alot when you live your life at 60 MPH too. Slow down. Enjoy the road. Wave to the couple on the porch. High-five the kids. And pet the dog. It makes the journey that much sweeter.

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NJM = Wet and Wonderful

By Steve | Published: May 9, 2009

Marathons aren’t supposed to be WET and wonderful but that’s exactly what the New Jersey Marathon was this weekend. We all had an amazing time and the highlight of the weekend was my wife finishing her very first marathon happy and healthy with a big smile on her face. We got to share it with our kids which always makes these things even more special. My wife and I raised roughly $5,000 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and that was just a drop in the bucket compared to the total dollars that were raised by the over 350 TEAM IN TRAINING athletes all racing to find a cure. Once again, I had the honor of delivering the pre-race pasta dinner motivational talk for about 500 people and from what I am told, it went well. I feel so connected to people when I have that opportunity.

The race itself was pretty wet as we had rain the entire day. I give my kids credit for being such good fans and supporters in the crummy weather. The hotel was gorgeous and our balcony actually overlooked the beach and the start, finish, and midway point of the race. We did get to enjoy some down time the day before the race and spent some time on the beach and a cool jetty just behind the hotel.

My wife and kids have been at so many of my races and finish lines over the years, I can’t even begin to tell you how good it felt to be able to race, and still be there to see my wife finish so happy and strong in her first race. We even crossed paths and saw each other a few times during the race so I knew she looked good and felt OK. 

Our race shirts were decorated with the names of family members, friends, and loved ones who either lost their fight or are living strong… including David Anderson, John’s dad, who lost his fight but whose legacy rings loud and clear in all of the work John is doing for the cause.   

I THINK I will take a few days off from training; unless I drive myself insane in the process…. but I will try. However, tonight I am off to another TEAM IN TRAINING recruitment meeting where we will try to grow the TNT family and continue to make a difference.

Thanks for everyone’s support.

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The Girl on the Train

By Steve | Published: May 2, 2009

This weekend is the Broad Street 10-miler. I am not racing because I am racing the New Jersey Marathon. But Broad Street is one of my all time favorite races to do. I have done this race many many times. And I can’t let this week get away from me without sharing a short story about the girl on the train. It’s just my way of remembering Barb and a reminder that cancer takes good people all the time.

While riding the subway in Philadelphia to the start of the 1995 Broad Street 10-Mile Run, I met a girl. A great race by the way, but this is not a race report. The girl’s name was Barb and I sat next to her and her friend on the train. We exchanged pleasantries. The usual stuff…the weather …the race… Barb was new to the area and had a few race logistical questions. When we arrived at Central High School, the start of the race, we parted ways and wished each other good luck. But for some reason every time I turned around, I kept bumping into her. It became a little ironic, almost like we were unable to say goodbye. Then at one point during the actual race, as I glanced around me, I saw her again. Then again. Then again. Finally, at the conclusion of the race we once again said farewell.

Little did I realize at the time that saying goodbye really wasn’t necessary at all. Barb and I would continue to bump into one another all over the place for the next decade. And eventually became great friends. We started as “race friends” in that we would exchange emails and try to say hello whenever we were racing the same events. That led to planning some training together with other friends in our extended running and triathlon families. And before you knew it, a friendship was born. Although the foundation was sprung from our common interest in endurance sports, it led to a more meaningful friendship. And we all know how adult friendships can sometimes be. Months could go by and we wouldn’t see or hear anything of one another. But we were always only a phone call away and we always had each other as race buds or tri buds or whatever the heck we were.

I would think nothing of calling her or dropping her an email and telling her to get off of her butt and go train. And she would do the same to me, or for me, depending on perspective. Over time I realized what an amazing talent Barb really was. She was one of those people that completely wreak havoc on something once committing to doing it. When she decided to try her hand at triathlon, she showed no mercy on her competition. I remember one ride in particular. It was right after she really caught the tri bug. We were riding down the shore and I thought I would teach her a thing or two. So, I hammered by butt off into a head wind opening up a huge gap between everyone around me. Everyone except Barb. She was practically in my jersey pocket, smiling. Her look almost said, “OK, now what are we going to do?”

Her top overall and age group finishes are too many to mention. And the girl could swim. I was extremely envious of her swimming ability. But that is to be expected given her all-everything swimming resume growing up and in college.

Through Barb, I met some great people. Through my friendship with Barb, I became friendly with people like Dave Greenfield, President and owner of Elite Bicycles and general ambassador of good karma. And Stuart Trager, who when he is not ripping off sub 10 hour IM’s, the Dr. is either in surgery, or serving as a walking Atkins testimonial.

Through me, Barb was introduced to my band of tri comrades in the area. That spawned off some wonderful friendships for her. It was cool how our two independent networks of friends and training partners became intertwined into one. But that too is the beauty of the sport of triathlon.

Barb was an Amazon. She was capable of doing anything she set her sights on. She was a testimonial to Nike, the Greek goddess of victory. An amazingly strong and talented woman when she wanted to be, but very human and fallible at the same time. She eventually learned not to take this stuff too seriously.

She knew how to fully enjoy whatever she was doing. And she knew when she needed a break. If she didn’t enjoy something, she would take some time off to regenerate, and then return again with an even bigger zest. After taking some time off to reflect and take some personal inventory, Barb was recharged and believed the upcoming season was to be her best yet.

I spoke to Barb around Thanksgiving of that year. I hadn’t heard from her for a while and dropped her an email, which led to a phone call. I was sorry to hear that Barb had been suffering from some kind of respiratory something. Maybe it was the flu, maybe pneumonia. She wasn’t too sure but her doc was going to run some tests and with some much needed rest, she was expected back on her feet eventually… eventually.

A couple of weeks later, I got the word that things were much more serious than anyone realized. My friend Barb, the athlete, was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and her long term outlook was not good. I spoke to her again the day before New Years Eve. She was back in the hospital. Too weak and groggy to say too much, Barb spoke for a minute but then handed the phone to her sister. The conversation was short. But her sister filled in the missing pieces. As I was talking to her sister, my radio was eerily playing Melissa Etheridge as she belted out the chorus “It only hurts when I breathe”. The irony in that is physically painful.

Barb’s condition continued to worsen over the next few months. She eventually moved back home to Indiana to be with family during her last days. She fought the way she always did. But in mid-March Barb lost her battle.

How was this possible? Never mind, I know damn well how it’s possible. It’s life. Precious and beautiful one minute, fragile the next and gone before you know it. But as much as we can understand it on an intellectual level, it doesn’t help to ease the gut wrenching pain of its reality.

As much as it hurts and as sad as it is, I feel lucky. I feel lucky to have known Barb when she was on top of her game. I feel lucky enough to have been considered a friend and confident when she wasn’t. And I feel lucky enough to have been able to talk to her during her last days. I still don’t understand it. But I’m thankful for having been a part of her life and she a part of mine.

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The Best Medicine

By Steve | Published: May 1, 2009

Well …. Saturday morning, we leave for Long Branch New Jersey to get settled in for Sunday’s New Jersey Marathon. I have mentioned before that my wife and I are both doing this with TEAM IN TRAINING to celebrate my remission, to remember my wife’s cousin and …. just because we can. Together we have raised a little over $5,000 for the cause and are looking forward to a great weekend. I wanted to check in tonight in case tomorrow gets away from me and I will be sure to bring back plenty of pics and a complete recap to post.

A sure fire way to get the feel good juice flowing is to get involved. You don’t need to be an Olympian to make a difference in the lives of many people. You don’t need to be an ironman triathlete to help find a cure. And you don’t need to qualify for anything to make a difference in the world. The concept of tying together athletics and charitable causes is not a new one. And the Philadelphia area has a plethora of options for people willing to make the commitment to put one foot in front of the other in the name of saving lives.

I have been involved with these types of charity events for over 20 years, and each one that I do provides me with an incredible sense of achievement knowing that my efforts are playing a key role in the advancement of cures and treatments of any number of health issues. Many folks get involved with these types of events because they are personally suffering from a disease and want to play a more active role in their future. Others get involved because a friend of loved one has been diagnosed. Whatever the reasons are charity events leave you with a true sense of accomplishment.

The MS 150 City to Shore Bike Tour has been one of my personal favorites for many years. I originally got involved 16 years ago because it just looked like a great way to spend the weekend – on the bike. But over the years, I have met some of the most amazing individuals who are wrestling with Multiple Sclerosis and it has added meaning and purpose to my involvement.

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s TEAM IN TRAINING, The Susan G. Komen Foundation’s Race for a Cure, The American Cancer Society’s Bik-a-thon, The LIVESTRONG Challenge, these don’t even scratch the surface of the many great events right here in our area that are available to everyone.

Each and every one of us has the power to make a difference. We can walk, run, ride, etc to help find a cure. If we can’t do that, we can come out and volunteer. If that is not an option, we can make a donation. Funds are tight ? Then offer to volunteer by stuffing envelopes or goody bags, or making phone calls on. There is something that we can all do. And trust me, knowing that you are making that kind of a difference in the lives of others will make a huge difference in your own.

I have received so many encouraging emails and messages over the last several weeks and I am thankful to have this platform to engage, share, network, or do whatever I can do for the benefit of all of us. Thanks for everyone’s continued support and I will chat with you on the other side of the marathon.

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A Matter of Perspective

By Steve | Published: April 25, 2009

Perspective; I use that word all the time. It’s all about perspective…it depends on your perspective …keep it all in perspective. Singer songwriter John Gorka has a great song about being a native of New Jersey. He sings about the girls with the high hair and measuring your socio economic status in terms of Jersey Turnpike exits. In the song he also says “If the world were to end tomorrow, I would adjust”. How’s that for adaptability and perspective? Maybe John Gorka is a triathlete.

At any rate, I often find myself keeping or putting things into perspective. A few key universal truths help keep my perspective on track. First point … things are rarely as bad as they first appear. I always try to remember that there are many people who are far less fortunate than I. I have a roof over my head, an amazing family, a great network of friends, my health, and I am gainfully employed in the best nation in the world. For all intents and purposes, my life is a fairy tale.

I also try to remember that most issues and problems are typically short term in the grand scheme of things. In most cases, there will be an end. So, the bigger challenge is not in the crises itself, but in how we accept and manage the crises. That is what will drive our comfort level and our happiness. And that is a choice that we all have. We choose to be happy or not by how we relate to what goes on around us. And how do we do that? We do so by keeping things in perspective.

We could choose to throw a gasket over that traffic jam or sub par report card. Or we can take a minute and think through how serious the issue really is. Will it matter next year? Is it something that I can control? Do I need to actually DO anything right at this moment? If your answer to those questions is “no”, there probably isn’t a whole lot that you should be stressing out about.

One of my favorite questions to ask in times of apparent dire straights is “What’s the worst that can happen”? Not because I am tempting the devil or evoking any bad karma. I just want to try to determine the severity of the situation. That way I can have multiple back up plans. I hope for, pray for, and expect the best outcome in any situation… but I try to have a plan for the worst case scenario as well. It may not work for everyone, but it works for me. That way, if I get rocked by something, I can move to plan B, relatively unscathed.

Something to think about the next time you THINK you are having a crises or a meltdown. When looked at in contrast to the big picture, does this stuff really matter?

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"Be the change you wish to see in the world " - Gandhi
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