ANDREA'S PASSING

My friend, Andrea Fisher passed away on Saturday, May 1st shortly after 5:00 pm. She was surrounded by her family and the family's pastor, Keith Potter.

Her final moments, I think, were as peaceful as possible given her advanced condition. The weeks leading up to the final days were not comfortable for Andrea. Once the doctors advised her nothing more could be done and Andrea decided to no longer fight, the chemo treatments that kept the cancer at bay were stopped.

It was difficult to see how quickly the cancer took over Andrea's body. The pain she had always dealt with became more difficult to manage every day. And during her last days, Andrea was mostly asleep, almost comatose, deeply sedated.

Although the final weeks of Andrea's life were difficult for all of us, we were all so deeply touched by the incredible impression she had in each of our lives. I have already mentioned in previous posts how unconditionally she had always loved me, how she had always accepted who I was even in the moments when I could not accept myself.

We each, I believe, had time to reflect on how Andrea had touched our lives as we sat and talked with her and, in the final days, sat quietly by her side as she slept. Andrea's life was and has always been a gift to me. I realized that fact soon after I met her while in college.

The final weeks of her life confirmed to everyone who knew her just how much she had touched each of our lives. We all struggled with the anticipation of her passing and carried our grief with us wherever we went, but we also talked of our love for her and her family and how she had deeply influenced our lives.

It is a wonderful thing, a fitting tribute, to share a common love and appreciation for someone, to know and recognize how better our lives are by having known Andrea. She changed our lives and made them better. And the discussion we shared and the sadness and the gratefulness were, really, Andrea's last gift to us.

She is survived by her husband, Steve, her oldest son, Ryan, her daughter, Katelyn, and her youngest boy, Miles, her loving parents, Mary and Al, and a large group family and friends.

In many small but wonderful ways, I, as I am sure with everyone else, carry Andrea's spirit closely. She is often with me throughout my day and most especially when I am training. There are moments on my long rides or long runs that I find comfort in remembering her influence in my life, a short conversation we had, her laugh or, even better, her laughing at me. Often, I have a short cry, say her name, have a moment and find a way to be grateful for all that she was.

My training since Andrea's passing has been spotty, at best. Shortly after her passing, my heart to focus and train just wasn't there. Although I have taken inspiration from her life, I really could not find a way to concentrated and honest effort.

I have, however, been able to put together a solid block of training over the past few weeks and am feeling better on the bike and the run. I am in the last build up before my Ironman taper and anticipate three more 100+ mile rides and a few double run days before the race. I am looking forward to them and, for the first time in a while, have found a mental focus and excitement for training.

Updating this blog has been difficult as well. I had started and stopped this post several times over the past two months, but just could not find a way to finish it. I am hoping that the post gives honor to Andrea's life in some small way.

I do know this: Much of what I know about the good things in this life have much to do with my experiences with Andrea and her friendship and love. My life has been better because of her. And it is for this reason, that I must always strive to find a meaningfulness in this life. It is the best way in which I can honor her memory.

ANDREA FISHER UPDATE

On behalf of the Fisher family, I want to thank everyone who has sent words of love and support for Andrea and the family during this very difficult and challenging time. Your prayers have meant very much to everyone.

Sadly, Andrea's condition has taken an unfortunate turn. Shortly after the last round of chemo and radiation, Andrea's doctors performed a scan to see how she had responded to the last round of treatment.

Unfortunately, the scan revealed several new tumors in separate parts of her body, including her liver. These new tumors had grown in a very short period of time and during her chemo. Shortly thereafter, doctors let Steve and Andrea know the cancer was pervasive and that the prospect of it being cured was no longer possible. They advised them to discuss the situation with their three children and to begin getting Andrea's affairs in order.

This latest news has confirmed a reality everyone has feared. It is heartbreaking.

There is no clear expectation of how things will progress and the family is taking things day by day. Her parents, Al and Mary, have come to stay with Andrea and to support the family.

Andrea's comfort is the priority now. She is tired and often cold and in pain. She is taking oral chemo and other drugs that often make her drowsy. We have all had the chance to visit with her and she is as beautiful and kind as always.

The grace and thoughtful dignity she brought to our lives when healthy has never been more evident than now in her moment of fading strength. She is still managing her family, choosing outfits for her daughter, Katy-girl, encouraging her eldest son, Ryan, to finish his homework and loving her youngest son, Miles, with the same gentleness and open heart.

I have written in this blog that although her husband, Steve, has and always will be my very best friend, Andrea has, in fact, become just as important and meaningful in my life. She has supported and loved me through my darkest hours without question or judgment and has loved my daughter, Keats, like her own.

I have tried for weeks to avoid writing this update knowing it would bring up the emotions I have tried so long to avoid. As I write this, I am realizing that my lingering cold, my lack of motivation to train, my overall dullness and need to seek distraction are all related to avoidance: my denial of what I now must learn to accept.

A life without Andrea.

She is not gone yet and there is still time to spend with her. Her friends all privately grieve for her and are, like me, trying to make sense of the world. We are all sad and, I am sure, have moments of deep sobbing. This, I think, is further testament to the impact Andrea has had on so many lives.

Yeats once wrote:

Think where man's glory most begins and ends,
and say my glory was I had such friends.

More specifically, I think, we can all try to find some small comfort in sharing our lives with Andrea and for being loved by her in so many ways.

Your continued prayers and good thoughts are important. Please continue to carry Andrea in your heart as she needs support more than ever.

ANDREA FISHER UPDATE

It's been a while since I have updated Andrea Fisher's cancer treatment.

After her last surgery, Andrea was prescribed an aggressive round of radiation and continued chemotherapy. Her team of doctors planned for four weeks of both radiation and chemo, then run tests to see where things are.

Yesterday was Andrea's last round of both radiation and chemo. Treatment is always difficult for her as it leaves her feeling exhausted, physically drained and sore. It's a long week of recovery only to get treatment and fall back into the difficulties of the aftermath.

Having completed treatment, it will be good for Andrea to have a chance to get back into the rhythm of life and family. She has been receiving weekly treatments for several months now and the time away from the hospital will be good for her.

Chemo treatment is a strange and deliberate process that often lasts an entire day. Patients receiving treatment spend a great portion of the day sitting quietly, waiting for their various bags of medicine to slowly drip into their veins through i.v. tubes.

The hours move slowly and, I am sure, it is time for them to reflect and ponder the why and how. I have been lucky to be able to change my work schedule to visit with Andrea almost every week and the time has been special for me.

In our busy lives we rarely have moments of clear perspective and understanding. And my afternoons with Andrea and other visiting friends has reminded me how lucky I am to have Andrea as a friend. As much as she is going through, seeing Andrea manage the everyday of her life, her kids' schedules, her thoughtfulness towards others and her positive and open heart is a gift that I need to always honor.

Although some might think my visits with Andrea have been about my support of her, it actually is more about her support of me and my faith in the importance of this life and the goodness and gratitude that I must always remind myself of; that I so often take for granted.

As much as this last round of radiation and chemo seem like a promising end to a long and difficult journey, there is still some uncertainty as to whether the cancer will be in remission. We are all hopeful for a positive outcome, but there still remains a shadow of uncertainty that is difficult to manage.

The doctors plan to run more tests and scans to see how treatment has gone. Andrea is hopeful and in good spirits but also thoughtful and considerate of all that lies ahead.

She and her family wanted to thank everyone for your good wishes of support and love. Your positive energy is important and meaningful and makes a difference.

A GREAT DAY ON MT. HAMILTON

I was fortunate to have one of the best experiences I have had training in a long time. It was also one of the toughest I have faced ever.

Almost every Saturday, my coach, Muddy, organizes and oversees a group ride for his athletes. We often meet at a designated place and head out for a solid group ride. Muddy will always follow with his vespa to make sure we are all okay and also to coach us as we ride. It's really an incredible thing he does and is characteristic of how much he cares for all of us.

This past Saturday, we met at his house in downtown San Jose and rode together to Mount Hamilton Road. It's a legendary climb in the San Jose area and consists of a 20 mile climb that summits at the Lick Observatory.

Although we started as a group of 10, the group quickly splintered. I fell off the pace pretty quickly, but I felt good throughout the first 2/3 of the climb. I was riding closely with my friend, Reyna, but she pulled away during the last 7 mile segment.

I was super focused on finishing and, although my legs and back were KILLING me, I kept thinking I couldn't quit. I thought of Andrea Fisher each time I slowed or cracked a little and knew there was no way I was going to not summit the climb. Andrea doesn't have a choice and neither should I.

The pack waited at the observatory and were able to shout down to me during the last 1/2 mile of the climb. I was totally cooked by then, but it felt great to get the support and to take in the view after I finished!

Honestly, the ride down was even gnarlier! Wet asphalt, rocks, potholes and long drop-offs. I took my time and actually really enjoyed the cruise. Of course, the rest of the group blazed down with no problem and really hammered it back to Muddy's.

After our ride, Muddy and his wife, Barbara, opened their home and barbecued lunch for everyone. Unfortunately, I had to leave early and couldn't stay for lunch. It would have been great to hang out with everyone and talk story, but I was lucky enough to hang out with the Fishers, who took me to Avatar in 3D for my birthday.

All in all, it was a great day and a huge investment in my early season base training.

ANDREA'S SURGERY

I am relieved to report that Andrea's surgery went as well as can be expected. The surgeon successfully removed her spleen.

During a previous surgery, they had removed a cancerous tumor that was attached to her diaphragm. At the time, they were hopeful but not sure if they had removed all of the cancer.

Today, they re-examined Andrea's diaphragm and discovered two new spots where cancer still existed. The surgeon removed more of her diaphragm and was able to get clean enough margins from the lab to feel he removed the remaining cancer.

The diaphragm is the muscle that runs along your trunk that assists your breathing. Because a portion of hers has been removed, Andrea will have to learn how to breathe without the full assistance of her diaphragm.

She will be recovering in the hospital until Tuesday or Wednesday of next week. She will have a long recovery and eventually will begin chemo again.

The photo above was taken during her per-op today. After all they have been through, the life and spirit Andrea and Steve still have in their eyes is incredible. Awe inspiring.

Andrea still has a long road, but she has the love and support of so many people.

I am lucky to be one of them.

RACING FOR ANDREA

I received word today that my friend, Andrea Fisher, is going in for surgery tomorrow to remove her spleen. Andrea is the person who has motivated me to race in honor of the Livestrong Foundation at Ironman Wisconsin.

She has been fighting a rare form of cancer that started on her tongue and has metastasized in several places throughout her body. She has been undergoing chemotherapy for several months and the tumors have been shrinking with the treatment. The doctors, however, have decided to remove Andrea's spleen as the cancer has spread there.

Since being diagnosed, Andrea has endured several tongue and jaw surgeries, radiation, chemotherapy and living with a deep and constant pain. Through it all, she has shown a spirit and heart that both inspires and humbles me.

I have known Andrea for more than half my life. She is married to my best friend, Steve, who I have known since the first day of 7th grade in 1977. Through the years, Andrea has also become one of my best and closest friends. Steve and Andrea will raise my daughter, Keats, if anything were to happen to my x-wife, Anne, my wife, Meena, and me.

I have always loved the fact that the Fishers have treated Keats as their own, loving and caring for her with an open heart. My daughter's world is much larger because of their love. She understands the meaning and responsibility of friendship, kindness, and generosity because that is what has been given to her freely by not only the Fishers but all of my closest friends.

There is nothing more comforting, I think, than knowing your child is cared and loved for by others outside your immediate family. There is a sense of community and faith in the world that quiets the skeptic in me.

My coach, Muddy Waters, has told me that the Ironman is "just a long day of exercise." And, frankly, in light of what my friend Andrea is going through, nothing could be truer. There is a part of me that understands what is going on; that, in the starkest of realities, understands that Andrea is fighting for her life. It is a fact that on certain levels, I can manage, contain and keep at a distance because, I believe, that is what men do (at least what I do) to manage the emotionality of it all.

But there is the deeper and more difficult struggle of the "why" that, when I allow myself, overwhelms me. Andrea is one of the kindest, considerate, loving, gentlest people I know. She has always been mindful of her health, her body, spirit and family. And the idea of her being sick does not make sense to me.

There have been times in my life when I have lived in darkness. I have struggled. I have lived uneasily without gratitude or breath. Through those times, Andrea has been one of a few who stuck with me, who believed in me when I did not. Like my daughter, Andrea taught me the deeper meaning of friendship. She simplified the world for me, uncomplicated it with a gentle heart and compassion that renewed my trust in all things.

That trust is being tested now, but I know to lose faith is to sacrifice the gift Andrea has given to me. So as I begin to train for Ironman Wisconsin, my purpose is very clear. It is true and important that I am racing for the Livestrong Foundation, but, really, I am racing for her.

First Week of the New Year

I am starting this blog as a fun way to help me process my training and to also (and mainly) to create a sense of accountability to my training and triathlon lifestyle. I am a little self-conscious about blogging, but I figure it's a good way for me to communicate and participate in my training in a new way.

I completed my first triathlon in August 1990, shortly after my father passed away at a very young 52. Perhaps as a way to cope with his death, I committed my life 100% to triathlon and, for the next several years, lived singularly focused on training and racing. As a result of an unbalanced priority perspective and an overly compulsive (and unhealthy) commitment to training, I burned out completely.

After coming home from a ride during the summer of 1994, I got off my ride and essentially sold or gave away everything and anything that had to do with triathlon.

I didn't swim, bike or run for 8 years. The day it changed was when I found some of my old tri racing photos and showed it to my wife who, without really thinking, asked me, "What happened?"

I bought a bike the next day and started training. Age and time away had taken its toll, however. For the first three years, I battled weight and injury issues and, even though I completed Ironman Wisconsin 2005-14:03:27 (and also IM Coeur d'Alene '07-12:20:13), I have never been able to get back to my lean racing weight of my earlier days.

I'm 43 now and understand that I've gotten older, my body has changed and my recovery is slower, but I realize now that I have been using that as an excuse not to fully commit to the lifestyle.

I train but always with a careful reluctance to jump completely in. After burning out so badly, I am wary of burning out again. I do realize, however, that I need to raise my commitment to a far greater level.

The triathlon lifestyle, if treated with respect and commitment, offers the promise of good health and mindfulness. It offers an incredible opportunity to challenge and, at the very best moments, a chance to see inside yourself without filter or pretense. And through this, you come to understand yourself in new ways.

Where my training life is most lacking is through the 4th discipline of diet and weight. I have always loved eating and, in younger and more in-shape years, trained to eat. I can no longer live that life.

I am 5'9" and my present weight is 200 lbs. My goal is to race IMW at 170 lbs.

I plan to trace all aspects of my 2010 training and my relative life experiences through this blog and to keep a running dialogue of what I am experiencing, accomplishing, being challenged by, and really feeling about my new commitment. I hope this blog will act as an avenue for me to understand myself and my motivations in a deeper, more mindful way.

My weight goal is about creating a healthier lifestyle and a deeper commitment to my future. And it begins now.