Runner Seeks Support to End Blood Cancers
by Argerie Vasilakes
When I joined my current company, I was greeted by smart and compassionate people who believed that learning is essential to get ahead in business. One of those people became an unofficial mentor. Michael always invited others’ opinions on projects – even on high profile projects, like the one with a tight deadline that he asked me to be part of when I was barely settled into my new job.
Minutes into my first meeting with him, I made a suggestion about the project. He could have said, “We don’t do things that way.” But instead, he said, “Good add!” And that was the first clue I had that this my new employer was open to different ideas. This openness came from a genuine interest in learning how people might come together to deliberately create something better than one person could alone. That day at the project meeting, Michael acted out a phrase that I would hear at this company many times: “How might we…?”
Three years ago, Michael announced that he had multiple myeloma, and he started planning his early retirement. My colleagues and I who admired him so much felt helpless. How might we help to bring about a new yet seemingly impenetrable goal – Michael’s well-being? Individually we did what we could after he left – visited, prayed, and roasted him at his retirement party. Thanks to very new treatments, his doctors have now declared him in remission.
I saw him last spring, and it dawned on me that I could do something for him and for others with blood diseases. I could run. I knew about an organization, Team in Training (TNT) affiliated with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, which helped non-athletes like me train for athletic events. In return, I would raise funds for research to help keep treatments available like those that are helping Michael. I’ve run dozens of 5K races over the last five years. In that time, I have half-heartedly announced to friends and family that I would someday run a half marathon. But I always sidelined that goal aside at the thought of running 13.1 miles – ten miles farther than I’d ever run before.
But here was Michael – in remission – having overcome the biggest, most painful hurdle of his and his family’s lives. Who was I to cower before a race run by hundreds of thousands of fit and unfit people around the world? So I signed up.
Six weeks before the official half marathon, the training team was due to run eight miles. At six miles, I was done – legs and lungs like jelly. I determined that I would crawl the final two miles to the end. But our tough-love running coach found me, scraped me up off my knees and ran me to the end. I had energy only to glower at him, and to remember, after all, why I was doing this. I surprised myself a few weeks later when I ran my first ten, and felt good. The training was working!
The Akron Marathon was the last Saturday in September. I met a woman, Michelle, from Pittsburgh, who was running in her fifth Marathon race despite having bone cancer. I also ran apace with a gray-haired man who wore a sign on his back which read, “I thought they said 26 blocks.” They were running twice as far as I would. The training had intentionally taken me up to only ten miles. The remaining 13 miles -- the coaches insisted – would be mental. I could do this. Besides, I didn’t want the coach to have to come get me again while local press photographers clicked away.
I finished. I sprinted the last yards grinning from ear to ear. My legs are sore but my heart is soaring. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS) will get $1650 from my effort. I’m part of the way there now. Won’t you consider contributing to LLS for all the medical professionals and patients and families who count on people who step up to that question that Michael asks, “How might we?”
If you are interested in contributing to my campaign to raise funds for LLS, please visit my website http://pages.teamintraining.org/noh/RoadRun09/avasilakes.