Running

The first two, and only thus far, 5Ks I ran were significantly associated with me getting breast cancer. The first 5K, on April 2, is pictured to the right. It's me and my fiance Sean (on my left), and Sean's good friend and former Pennsylvania congressman Patrick Murphy on the right. (he's a lot taller than us, clearly, so he made better time ;)
Hours after that race is when I first found the lump. The second 5K I ran, this also with Sean, was only two weeks later, and it was literally the day after my fine needle aspiration. The fine needle aspiration was the first of many tests I received; this one told me there were cancer cells present.
While I was running the first 5K I was pushing myself hard. Sean and I had been training and I was ready. I had run longer than a 5K without stopping, so I knew I could do this. But it was hard. I was suffering. It was a cold April day, as you can tell by the picture, so I was bundled in layers of clothes, with Under Armour underneath. My heavy, sweaty sweatshirt weighed me down, and trust me, there were multiple times where I wanted to stop. But I knew I wouldn't be proud of myself if I did. So I pushed. During some of the harder parts of the race, I remembered the time I had just moved to Lewistown, PA two weeks after graduation to start my job as a reporter. I knew nobody. In fact, up until the job interview, I didn't even know Lewistown existed. I was scared and lonely those first few weeks. I often told my mom, "I don't think I can do this," and she always replied: "You already are."
So during that race, when I thought I couldn't go on, I told myself I already was going on. I already was doing it. I already AM doing this! And then I finished, without stopping once, around 33 minutes!
When we got home from the race I was on top of the world. Finishing my first 5K with such success was exhilirating. I felt this surge of excitement I had never felt before. I had accomplished something huge, to me, anyway, who was never a runner. Not even in high school when I wore a size 6 jeans. (I did eat Cheetos every day in high school so that may have had something to do with it.)
Then, as I was basking in my glory, I found the lump.
From there, life moved on, or at least I made my best effort. I was worried about the lump. We were signed up for another 5K, which happened to be the day after my fine needle test. I had the test and I completed the race. I was proud of myself again.
I know I will go back to running when I can. I can even start now if I feel comfortable. A few weeks ago I did a slow run while Sean and I were out on a walk. It was the first time I ran since before the surgery. It wasn't exactly fast running; it was bouncing, or slow, very slow jogging. But it was something, and it gave me hope. I can keep doing that until the next surgery. (Though the expander doesn't respond well to any type of fast moving or bouncing!)
Running is now a part of my life. I didn't know I could be good at it, or love it so much. And I know that my next 5K will NOT be associated, in any way, with my breast cancer, unless, of course, it is a walk or run to raise money for breast cancer.
Next time I want to run knowing I am cured and life has moved on. I want to run as freely as I did that early morning on April 2, before my world changed.
There is running after breast cancer. And I'll be doing just that.