When people talk aboutcancer survivors, they say that they fought hard.
But I think everyone fights hard when they get cancer.
Fighting hard doesn’t guarantee survival.
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I saw my dad lose his fight, and he was the strongest man I know.
Rather than surviving because of your strength, you become strong because you’re surviving.
I was training for a firstHalf Ironmanwhen I learned I hadthyroid cancer.
Around the same time, I got the news about my dad: He had stage IV kidney cancer.
He was still fighting for his life the July morning I raced.
But I did it.
And I was hooked: My husband and I signed up for a full Ironman.
Dad passed away that fall.
And then, three months later, I was diagnosed withbreast cancer.
We had been seemingly healthy, active, low-risk individuals.
Why was this happening?
As I recovered from adouble mastectomy, I watched the weeks I’d reserved for training tick by.
Thirty weeks dwindled to 20, then 10.
I would focus on yoga and meditation.
I thought that’s what I was supposed to doslow down and take care of myself.
But I now had only seven weeks to prep for a 140.6-mile race.
The expanders implanted in my chest to ready me for reconstructive surgery burned while I ran.
My upper body ached as I bent over my bike.
But I got tougher with each physical challenge.
Sweating out my frustration and pain helped me heal.
And that’s when I began to feel strong.
(Of course, pain is a bit relative in an Ironman.)
I no longer felt afraid.
So what if I failed.
Fear of the unknown?
Cancer was the unknown, and I survived cancer!
Suddenly, the prospect of a 12-hour race, which had sometimes sounded unbearable, seemed peaceful and fun.
I’ve now raced in four Ironmans, including the world championship in Kona, Hawaii, last October.
Cancer inspired me to run toward the future.
Without it, I wouldn’t have known how strong I was.
I Never thoughtI would lose my father to cancer less than six months after he was diagnosed.
I Never thoughtI’d have thyroid cancer.
and then, a year later, breast cancer.
I Never thoughtI’d have to tell my children that I had cancer.
I Never thoughtit would be so hard to be on the receiving end of sympathy and attention.
I Never thoughtI would miss my saggy old boobs.
I Never thoughtI would qualify for, and then compete in, the Ironman World Championship in Kona.
I Never thoughtthat all of these things would happen in two short years.
I Never thought I would be called a…
Survivor
This article originally appeared in the October 2016 issue of SELF.
This full issue is available September 27 on national newsstands.
