It's Not About Me

Here's the deal, it's not fun asking all of your friends to give you money for your cause.  It's not easy training for a marathon (possibly a bigger understatement than the first sentence).  And when I'm exhausted from doing both I remind myself of this - it's not about me.  Not this race.  This race is about fighting a terrible disease and wiping out blood cancer.  For me blood cancer has a face, the face of a spunky, sassy blonde haired girl named Tanner.  I've asked her mom, Beth to tell you more of their story.  After you read it, be sure to visit my fundraising site here and make a donation to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

Hitting the Wall - By Beth Page, Tanner's mom

Here's Tanner at five years old.  She was a happy, healthy kindergartener riding bikes, playing soccer, taking dance lessons.  But, within a few days of this picture being taken, she started complaining about back and leg pain, which is pretty odd for a five-year-old.  Within the week, her school had a one-mile fitness test at Pinkerton Park and Tanner came in dead last, limping across the finish line.  Our pediatrician agreed that she had probably strained something at field day or her dance recital.  Several weeks after this picture, she woke in the night screaming inconsolably that her back hurt.  This started the two-day process of determining that our spunky, sassy girl had leukemia and would only live a few more weeks without chemo intervention.

Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia is the most common type of childhood cancer, and Tanner’s low risk factors made her situation the best case scenario for treatment.  Even so, she would go on to endure two-and-a-half years of chemo, the standard protocol for a girl with ALL (boys do an extra year).  It is truly the marathon of cancer treatment.

The first six months of treatment were brutal.  She had weekly IV chemo, and other chemos delivered any which way you can imagine:  19 lumbar punctures with chemo delivered into her spinal column; chemo injected in her to thighs through simultaneous, painful shots; oral chemo; massive high-dose steroids; chemo we brought home and nervously administered through her port, and on and on.  Her body went through incredible changes.  She gained 15 pounds in the first month from steroids and was, literally, unrecognizable.  Then, over the next few months, the weight fell off of her, along with her hair, and she became emaciated, pale and frail. 

But, Tanner never gave up.  She never stopped dancing and singing, and playing with her brother.  Just like a runner hitting the wall, she kept going, even though her body begged her to stop and she, eventually, triumphed and came to a better place.

After six months, Tanner entered the maintenance phase of treatment for nearly two years.  She was able to go back to school during this time, although she still missed a lot of class and I found myself at school often, bringing painkillers or anti-nausea medicine.  Maintenance was easier, but still no picnic: daily oral chemo, monthly IV chemo and steroid pulses; and the dreaded lumbar punctures every three months.

About a year into chemo, when her school once again had their one-mile fitness run, Tanner asked on the way to school that morning, “Mom are you and Dad coming to my fitness run?”

“Of course, ” I replied, then added, “You know Tanner, you don’t have to run if you don’t feel like it.  We could bring pom poms and cheer on your friends. “

“I want to run,” she said.

“Okay, well just know that if you need to stop, that’s okay.  You just run as far as you can.”

 “Why wouldn’t I run?” she said, confused.

I paused for moment before answering, “No reason.  Go for it!”

And she did.  She ran and didn’t finish last despite a year’s worth of chemo in her small body.  That spirit and resilience continue to serve her well today.

Tanner today

Tanner is now a healthy, active ten-year-old.  August 6, 2013, marked two years off of chemo for her and she is playing soccer, loving 5^th grade, acting in local children’s theatre, singing and being her spunky, silly lovable self.

We are so grateful to people like Emily, who choose to use their passion for running to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.  They have been a vital force behind Tanner’s survival with the research they have sponsored in the past.   LLS continues to sponsor promising research to improve outcomes and find ways to treat leukemia with less side effects.  We hope that you will consider donating so more kids can ask, "Why wouldn't I run."

And just in case you need the fundraising site again, go here.

Make a Difference

Mark and I are running the marathon and fundraising in honor of a sweet, spunky little girl named Tanner. I fell in love with her right away. I asked her mom Beth to share with everyone a letter of what your gift means to families like hers...

I thank God every day for the people who have come before us who raised the money that funded research that got my eight-year-old daughter, Tanner, where she is today -- exactly four days into our new life without chemo.

How cute is Tanner!?

On June 1, 2009, a nervous young resident at Vanderbilt Children's fumbled through an explanation of abnormal white cells that led me to finally ask the question, "Are you trying to tell me she has leukemia?" Tanner was a normal, healthy five-year-old who had just finished her kindergarten year and was looking forward to a summer of swimming, ballet camp and vacation bible school. In one awful day, everything changed for the worse.

Tanner endured two years and three months of grueling, constant chemo treatments -- not because she had any complications, but because that is the normal treatment protocol for a girl with ALL (Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia). Boys, sadly, endure an extra year of treatment.

In the first month of treatment, Tanner had a port surgically implanted, two bone marrow biopsies, four doses of IV chemo and 30 days of high dose steroids. My feisty daughter could no longer walk up the stairs, couldn't get herself up off the floor without help, and needed a cane most of the time. She lay for long hours staring at the ceiling, completely robbed of her personality by the steroids.

She eventually watched as all her friends returned to school, held a virtual prisoner by her compromised immune system. She missed birthday parties, playdates, trips to the skating rink, and simple pleasures like eating out in a restaurant. She lost her hair not once, but twice. She gained fifteen pounds from steroids, only to lose it all, and then some, two months later. At some points, she became so overwhelmed by anxiety, that she needed anti-depressants to just help her function.



I'm so inspired by her!



But, through it all, Tanner fought... and Mark and Emily ran. Because we all believe there is a better way; that no child should have to give up two or three years of their childhood to a disease we could potentially cure. We met Emily and Mark when Emily chaired the 2011 Man and Woman of the Year campaign for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and Tanner was honored to serve as Girl of the Year. Tanner and Emily immediately hit it off -- kindred silly spirits -- two people with boundless energy and hearts of gold who have a great desire to help others.

I'm so proud of my daughter for what she has accomplished, and am eternally grateful to people like Emily and Mark for all that they do to help families like ours. I'm ever mindful of my obligation to "pay it forward" and be sure that we are paving the way for more humane treatments for blood cancers, or, better yet, a cure! Please know that should you decide to support Emily and Mark by donating to their Team in Training run in Dublin, you will not only be supporting two wonderful and selfless people, but will also be helping to assure no family ever has to endure this nightmare again.

Thank you,
Beth Page

Longest and Hardest Run Ever and Why It Matters

Mark and I were planning on running 14 miles today.  We were going to run at River Park where Team in Training was meeting, but our plan was to start at 5:30, an hour before the rest of the group, to avoid the heat and because we were going a little farther. Seems like a great plan, right?  Well nothing went according to plan.

Instead of getting up at 4:30, we turned the alarm off and slept until 5:30.  My stomach very much did not want to participate in the run.  After 2 bathroom stops, we finally made it in time to start after the group.  But it was overcast and not yet ridiculously hot, so there was hope. 

When we got to 2.5 miles we saw lightning and took cover just before the storm hit.  On the radar it looked like it was going to quickly pass, but then it appeared to move right on top of us for a long time.  We waited about 30 minutes and after the most severe weather was gone we took off.  Which, of course, was hard after not moving for so long.  It rained on us for the next 8 or so miles. 

I'm so familiar with routes at River Park that I didn't do much to prepare for this run.  Big mistake.  When we got to Ravenwood, we'd only been 4 miles.  So we went down Raintree and then back and then through Oakhall.  Then we came to Crockett Park. 

At mile 8.5, I realize we are only 1.5ish miles from our car.  What to do?  We both really wanted to get 14 in (ok maybe me a little more than Mark), but our car was so close.  And our conditions had been so bad for most of the run.  My shoes felt like they weighed 10 lbs each.  It seemed so easy to just go back then, but we decided we were committed to 14 so we, somewhat hesitantly, turned around and ran the opposite direction of our car.  

This was a big moment for me - it was a mental win.  It was a moment where I recommitted myself to the full the marathon in Dublin, to fundraising $10,000, to training on a set schedule no matter what, to eating properly to fuel my run and to my goals.  It's also the moment that reminded me why I signed up for this to begin with.  Because I have a choice to run, and people cancer have no choice.  They don't choose to be sick.  I choose to help them.

making silly faces with Tanner

For the next several miles I thought about sweet Tanner Page.  And how I would gladly run this far everyday if it meant she didn't have to have treatments for over 2 years and that she could just be a sweet, spunky little kid.  I also thought about my friend Jennifer Dunn who lost her son Chase to blood cancer.  I can't even imagine what she's been through.  When I wanted to quit today, thinking of Tanner and Chase and their families kept me going. 

When we got back to Ravenwood, we should only have had 4 miles to go.  However, with the detours we had taken it was really 5 miles.  At this point, my ipod was doing crazy things.  It had a mind all its own.  I couldn't turn the volume up or down or change songs.  This isn't tragic, but somehow it kept playing Christmas songs, which got really old when the sun came back out and it felt like it was a million degrees out.

The last few miles were by far my fastest - yes I'm surprised too.  I ran ahead of Mark with only about 4 miles to go.  Which was probably a smart thing to do, especially because I'm sure he wanted to kill me when he realized we were going to run 15 miles instead of 14. 

Since it's been a few hours since we finished, I can say it was a really good run.  It was hard, but empowering.

Our full marathon is just 3 months (holy crap) from tomorrow!  Our running only makes a difference if we also fundraise.  Please consider making a donation.  Visit our website at http://pages.teamintraining.org/tn/dublin11/emilymark.  Thank you so much for cheering us on and supporting us!

A Reason to Run

Here we are making silly faces with Tanner

Five months from today, Mark and I will be running our first marathon in Dublin.  We are training for this race as a part of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team in Training.  We have to raise $10,000 in order to participate.  At this point, I'm not sure which is scarier, running 26.2 miles or raising $10,000.  Of course as I say this, I immediately think however hard this is, it's nothing compared to having a child with Leukemia. 

Our inspiration for this race is a sassy, seven year old girl named Tanner Page.  Tanner was diagnosed with Leukemia (ALL) in June 2009.  She has a very good prognosis and is responding to treatment well.  She will finish her treatment this year (girls with Leukemia have treatments for 2 years.  it's 3 years for boys).  As you can imagine, it's been a very difficult thing for her to deal with on a socially.  But when you see her, she's so full of energy and life.  It makes me certain if this little girl (and her amazing family) can go through this, then surely we can run a marathon and raise $10,000.

Speaking of the $10,000, what does this money go to?  75% or more of the funds we raise will go directly to support the mission of The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS).  The other 25% will go to cover costs associated with the race and training. LLS funds a lot of researchers.  Since they have been participating in research survival rates have dramatically increased.  They also use the funds for patient support.  This includes (but it's definitely not limited to) co-pay assistance, patient literature, support groups, staff and much more.

We have been involved with LLS for 3 years with the Man Woman of the Year campaign. In 2009, I was a Woman of the Year candidate. The next year I co-chaired the campaign and Mark was a very active campaign volunteer. This year I am serving as the campaign chair and Mark is mentoring a candidate. When we started as volunteers, we didn't have a personal connection. Since then we've met so many people who's lives have been changed because of a blood cancer.  It is an amazing organization. 

We ask that you please join us in our race to raise vital funds to wipe out blood cancers.  Please visit our fundraising site to make a donation. 

Thank you so much for all of your support!!