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.

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.

GETTING INVOLVED

I have learned in the very short time I have been involved with the Janus Charity Challenge that racing for a cause of any kind makes the experience of preparation, training and, I hope and anticipate, participating much more meaningful and life-changing.

I have been fortunate to finish two Ironman distance events (Wisconsin '05 & Couer d'Alene '07) and had deeply emotional and otherworldly experiences at each. Wisconsin was the first time I had challenged and stretched myself so physically and mentally. And Couer d'Alene was a test to see if I could improve from Wisconsin.

The training and racing was a journey into the unknown and challenged me in ways I never thought possible. I will never forget crossing the finish line and the sense of accomplishment and overwhelming bewilderment I felt. It was special and deeply personal, but what I have discovered is that making the race about something larger than myself is far more satisfying and purposeful.

Committing to raise money for the Livestrong Foundation in honor of the people I know and love who have or are fighting cancer connects me to the world in ways training and racing for myself never could. I am hoping to make a difference in some small way and through my experience bring positive energy to the karmic universe.

I encourage anyone who is thinking of racing this coming year to seek out opportunities to support a charity. Team in Training, Challenged Athletes Foundation and Janus Charity Challenge (for Ironman North America events) are just a few of the organizations that participants can affiliate with.

Check your races to see if they have a foundation or a fundraising program or research and sign up for races that benefit a charity or foundation.

We can all make a difference in some way while doing the very thing we love to do.

I am grateful for the opportunity and the experience.

RACING FOR A CAUSE

As I mentioned in the sub-title to my blog, I will be racing in honor and in memory of family and friends who are battling or have battled cancer. I have registered with the Janus Charity Challenge and will be raising money for the Livestrong Foundation. My goal is to raise at least $5,000 and will be launching my fund raising campaign by the end of January.

My Mother is a survivor of uterine cancer which was diagnosed in 2005. It obviously was a difficult time, but luckily it was caught early. My mother was aggressive in her treatment and is a 5 year survivor.

Over the past 2 years, I have personally known 7 people who have had cancer treatment. My daughter's 12 year old friend, Alexis, past away from bone cancer this past year. Five colleagues had cancer treatment with a majority fighting breast cancer. And for the past three months my best friend's wife is undergoing chemo.

It's a strange and difficult series of coincidences. An emotional and unavoidable reality that puts everything into perspective. The world keeps moving, but I see my friends fighting their disease with dignity and strength. So little of what I clutter and complicate my life with matters in light of their struggle. I am at once ashamed and inspired, crestfallen and proud, helpless and empowered.

I decided to honor them and everyone who is fighting cancer through Ironman Wisconsin. I am committed to contribute and to make the race about something greater and more meaningful than me.

I am training and racing for them.

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.