we can be heroes...

Yesterday was the Ride for Roswell, my fourth one and second as a team captain of BEANZ BRIGADE. This year was another success for our team as we collectively raise nearly $4,000 for cancer research at Roswell Park. This year the event raised over $3 million! That's pretty phenomenal and I'm honored to be part of something that big.

This was my first year on the ride with my new bike (a nifty little Jamis Ventura). Man, what a difference from riding the little BMX! My pedal output was greater. My ride time improved drastically and overall I just felt more legit while riding.

Sarah wasn't able to make it to the ride this year and for good reason. So, I sort of took on the role of the face of our team. And while she wan't there in person, her "be relentless" attitude was alive and well. I used it to push through the pain of pedaling. Whenever I felt like slowing down, I simply thought of her being on the sidelines doing her trademark cheer of "Go baby, go!" and I would get a burst of speed.

During the ride so much went through my mind. I thought about how far we've come since last year. What Sarah's been through. What she's accomplished. How much our lives have improved since last year. It's been like night and day.

They say that you never forget to ride a bike and while I'm not sure if that much is true I will say that life itself is a lot like a bike ride. You set out and maybe you have a route mapped out, maybe you're just going where the roads take you, but you can never be sure just where you'll end up. You may think you have it all planned out -- you draw up your map or set your GPS, but you can never factor in everything. Maybe you go to make a left turn and wind up hitting a detour that takes you to places you've never been before. And maybe those places are great, maybe those places are horrible. But that's the way life is, your path never always ends up according to plan. That is the way last year worked out for us. But through it all, Sarah kept plugging along and now, here we are...back on path.

When I crossed the finish line I had a thought; that this year Sarah crossed a finish line of her own...the end of treatments. That's the real finish line. Things always seem to fall into perspective for me at the most random times and that was one of them. I crossed the finish line to a throng of spectators cheering me on, some of them were cancer survivors and current patients, here they are cheering me on, when it's them...people like Sarah who are the real heroes. I'm just some schmuck on a bike.

Now that the ride is over I just want to ride more. I want to make next years team 100 times more successful than this years one, but I also long for a day when I don't have to ride for cancer research. Imagine that...a world without cancer! Sounds like a beautiful place to me. Let's get there. I'll drive..or better yet, I'll pull the whole damn world there on my bike.

Much love as always. BE RELENTLESS.

turning point

Today was an important day...it marked the end of Sarah's cancer treatments.

It's somewhat fitting that her last treatment would fall on the one year anniversary of her hospital stay. I still remember those 12 scary days in May. It was a fucking nightmare. I spent each day and night at the hospital. Rarely sleeping. I'd go home to take out the dog, curl up in a ball on the floor and cry. Then go back to the hospital and try my best to make her feel comfortable. I was miserable, paranoid and frightened. As if the news of my wife having cancer wasn't enough, we were now faced with her having a mysteriously high fever and chills. I didn't know what I could do. I was helpless. I remember one particular night. I spent a few good hours there and I went home to take care of a few things. It was one of her worst days and I sat in my car in the parking garage and just started punching my steering wheel until my knuckles were raw and sore. I wanted to punch brick walls. I wanted to fight the world. I was full of rage and seething anger and I just snapped. I was at my wits end. The love of my life was laying in a hospital bed and there was nothing I could do about it.

And then...she just bounded back. A weaker person would give up, feel sorry for themselves. Not Sarah. She dug deep during that time, found her inner warrior. Kicked the shit out of what was ailing her and got better. Now here we are. Surgery, chemo, radiation...all of it done.

I know I've used the word a lot here, but I've got to tell you that I can't help but feeling overwhelmed over all that has happened. It blows my mind to think of all that Sarah has been through. No one should have to face up to what she went through. It was pure hell. There was no way she deserved to be put through that.

I know it's cliched, but I've learned a lot over the past year or so. I've grown. I've learned to value different things. We faced up to adversity and I have to say that we did pretty damn good. And that's the one take away I have from all of this. That no matter what you are up against, if you keep on fighting...nothing...and I mean nothing can destroy you.

That's my advice to you. Take it for what it is.

Be relentless. STAY relentless. And keep on fighting.

- b.

uncommon valor

Last Tuesday marked the one year anniversary of Sarah being diagnosed with breast cancer. I mean to post an update on the actual anniversary but couldn't bring myself to do so.

I wanted to recap that day, that day our lives were turned upside down. It seems like it wasn't that long ago, yet so much has happened between that time. Trials and tribulations, but also triumphs. It certainly hasn't been easy. Sarah was put through a hell that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. How she fought through it all is a testament of her be relentless attitude. She faced this thing head on.

I remember her walking in with her mother after she got the results. The whole time she was gone I was preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. I was hoping she would walk through the door, huge smile on her face and would give me the "all clear" thumbs up. But that's not how it played out. She walked in..and I can tell by the look on her face what the answer was. I'll tell you, man -- nothing prepares you for that moment; having the love of your life tell you that she has cancer. It was like a kick in the throat. I was speechless. Everything started going in slow motion. I could hear my heartbeat. It was echoing through my body and then I went numb. I was devastated. I threw my arms around her and gave her a hug.

"Everything's gonna be alright, baby. I promise." I said. But I had no idea what we were getting into. I had no idea what we were up against. And I'll tell you this:

I.

WAS.

SCARED.

I was afraid of the unknown. We were both scared. We were far too young to be going through what we were about to embark upon.

But just as we sat there digesting the news, Sarah turned to me and said: "I'm going to beat this. I'm going to get the best treatment I can and beat this." And through all this, even when she was shaken to her core, she never backed down. And that's really what this entry is about. It's about Sarah's never give up vigor. Things got tough, Sarah got tougher.

One year is behind us officially and Sarah is just as relentless as ever.

...of resolutions & new beginnings...

So here it is. 2011 is just around the corner and I for one am elated beyond belief. I cannot wait to put 2010 behind me, and I think I speak for my wife when I say that she feels the same. This has definitely been the year from hell and soon it will be in my rear view mirror.

A lot has happened in 2010, Sarah and I pretty much had our whole lives turned upside down. Life as we knew it had been completely changed in an instant. If the past year were a book it would be called "2010: The Year That Sucked." I never would have expected 2010 to start off the way it did. That was supposed to be our year, full of promise and hope. But it's weird how life works out. You never fully get what you expect and things don't always turn out like you planned. What matters is how you handle what life gives you.

And now, 2010 comes to a close. It was tough. It was a battle. We faced challenges that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. As I reflect on how it all unfolded and how I responded, I like to think I did well. There were times when I just wanted to curl into a ball and cry on my living room floor (and there were times I actually did that). There were times when I thought that if I hoped and tried real hard that I would wake up and it would all be a bad dream. But that's not real world thinking. In the real world there is no do over. No reset button. It would be nice if there was though. We'd reset 2010 and get some magically happy outcome, a complete 180 from the 2010 we know. But like I said, life doesn't work out that way.

Sarah and I are ringing in the new year the same way we have for many years now and that's in the comforts of our own home. We stay in, enjoy a nice dinner we cooked together, lounge around in our pajamas and are generally in bed shortly after midnight. It may be a silly tradition, but it's our silly tradition and I wouldn't have it any other way.

With each new year comes new beginning. A fresh start, where you can wipe the slate clean -- put the old year behind you and begin anew. What's done is done and everyone looks forward to the new year with a fresh faced new hope. A hope of things to come and, if the cards are right, a promise of better days.

That's what's great about New Year's Eve. We flip the calendar and look forward to what is in store. And with that change comes a certain awkwardness. We clumsily fumble through those first few days and weeks getting used to putting that new year on our checks and forms. We wish our family, friends and random strangers a "happy new year" in the days leading up to and thereafter the new year and then wonder when we stop saying it (mid-January?). Some of us nurse nasty hangovers which span well into January 2nd and beyond. Yes, the change has different effects on everybody.

Another tradition many people have are New Year's resolutions; silly promises one makes to improve or otherwise change who they are. Maybe its to lose weight or exercise more. Maybe its to give up smoking. Maybe its to spend less money on luxury items or to save for that vacation. Maybe its to finally pay off debt. Maybe its to be more charitable. Maybe its to call a loved one more often. But how many of us really mean it? I mean really, really mean it? Sure, most of these promises are nice, but they're just that...promises. How often do we keep these promises? Most of these resolutions will be broken with in the first 30 days. Fewer make it past 6 months. The real sticklers make full life style changes.

So what's my New Year's resolution? It can be pared down to a simple two word motto: BE RELENTLESS. It's that same core belief that Sarah and I have had since this was all thrust upon us.

I will stay that way, no matter what I am faced with. No matter what challenges lie ahead. And that's the takeaway from this past year. 2010 has taught me a lot. It's taught me the value of friendship and family. Its taught me to never give up, no matter what the odds are. I've learned that I can rely on certain people and not others. I've learned that life doesn't always work out the way you think it will. And I've learned that inside my wife, the girl I call Beanz, lies the heart of a warrior.

So here's to 2011. May it bring us -- all of us -- a lifetime of health, wealth and new beginnings.

Happy New Year and as always: BE RELENTLESS.

So THIS is Christmas.

So here we are, approaching the one year mark where everything changed for us. One year, man -- it seems it went by so fast -- so much has changed. Truth be told, so much has happened over the past 11 months that I can't remember much of what happened in 2009. My brain became completely focused on everything that happened in 2010.

I've had a lot to reflect on over these past few months. We've faced challenges that we never thought we'd have to face: cancer, surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation, countless doctors visits and a hospital stay that lasted way longer than it should have. Yes, it has indeed been the year from hell, but through it all Sarah has remained steadfast to beating this thing and true to her motto of: be relentless. And be relentless she has been, the fighter within her can rival that of any boxer, soldier or samurai warrior.

Sarah tells me almost daily that I am her rock, her pillar of strength. But it's really her that is my pillar of strength. Without her, I am nothing. She is by far the strongest person I have ever met and I'm thankful that she is my wife. Never once has she faltered from her determination to beat this.

This is for obvious reasons a very unique Christmas for us. No, it's not the one we planned on at the start of the year, then again you can never predict the future. Last Christmas we were just two young at heart, carefree "kids" (I say kids because we aren't old yet). I don't even recognize the person I was then. So much about me has changed. I've tackled things no 32 year old should, things I never thought I'd face in my entire lifetime. And I could sit here and complain about it all and bitch about it until I'm blue in the face, but I won't. Don't get me wrong, I'm mad as hell that this disease has touched our lives, but I'm thankful that my wife is a strong, powerful woman...ready to take this on.

Things are getting so much better and have been progressing at such an astounding rate. Sarah is officially off the blood thinners, which means she can have a salad whenever she wants and not have to worry about it screwing up her blood work. Her hair has grown back to the point where her hair is actually longer than mine. And of course, the chemo and radiation have been done for some time now. Yes, 2010 is ending a hell of a lot better than it began. And 2011, that's our year.

Do you hear us, cancer? We're taking 2011! You won't fucking stop us! You won't beat us!

a moment of thanks...

Generally I am not one for traditions. As a matter of fact, the whole idea sort of bores me. But if I've learned anything over the past ten months it's to be thankful for what I've got. And while 2010 has been an all-time low of a year, I've decided to take pause and reflect on all that has happened.

Yes, believe it or not, as shitty as this years has been, I've learned to appreciate the important things in life. So as cliche as it sounds, I'm going to list what I'm thankful for.

I'm thankful for having a wife with the commonsense to check out her body and realize something wasn't right. I'm thankful for having some amazing friends and co-workers who pulled together and helped out throughout all this. I'm thankful for my family, who were there every step of the way. I'm thankful for my pets (Tripper, Max, Holden and Bella) for providing the deep connection and understanding that only pet-owners will understand. I'm thankful for doctors and modern medical technology. I'm thankful for those simple moments that Sarah and I share when we set aside all the bullshit she's been through and relax...those are the moments I cherish. I'm thankful for the simple things in life: smiles, laughter, friends, family, walks through the park...the things I took for granted a year ago now mean so much.

Sarah is amazing. She looks great and feels great. She's back to work and things are starting to return to somewhat normal. Things will never fully be back to the way they were. This has changed us in so many ways. This is the "new normal." It's a different type of normal, but after ten months of hell, I've got to tell you, this "new norma" feels god damn good. Things are looking up. 2010 is almost over and I have a feeling that 2011 is going to be our best year ever.

So in honor of Thanksgiving, think about what you're thankful for. And cherish the small stuff.

Be relentless.

STAY relentless.

...and then there were three

Sarah finishes her radiation treatments on Wednesday and I can't help thinking to myself how quickly these past 8 months have gone by. So much has transpired: surgery, chemo, radiation and a 12-day hospital stay...and here we are, hitting the finish line. Well, the near finish line at least, there's Herceptin treatments every three weeks until May.

Three more treatments of the ol' zip-zap. And then, a much needed vacation. She deserves it. The fact that she faces each day with her BE RELENTLESS attitude is testament enough of how amazing she is.

This Wednesday marks a transition point. Maybe that's why this year has gone so fast for us. We've gone about it with the mindset of recognizing every milemarker. The end of surgery, the first chemo treatment, the half way point, the first radiation treatment...all of these served as reminders to us that we can get through this. We're a team. We have been since the start and we will be forever.