In fact, I’m sweating from a run as I type this message. But it was a good day for a run. In the 70s and little humidity — unlike Sunday when I ran in Louisiana and it almost killed me. I don’t know how people train in Louisiana.
This year the team and I are running the Brooklyn Rock n Roll Half. I’m hoping to PR (at the age of 40-something) and I’m also hoping to bust some fundraising records, too.
So I’ll need your help. Whether it’s five bucks or a hundred, every little bit helps.
It takes more than one person to make up a team and that’s why I’m asking you to donate to my TNT fundraising page for TNT!
In the six years that Ad Age and Crain Communications employees have been fielding a Team in Training team, we’ve raised over $135,000 to help The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society find cures and more effective treatments for leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin’s and myeloma.
Since it’s beginning in 1988, more than 600,000 participants have helped TNT and LLS raise more than $1.4 billion.
Your donation will help fund treatments that save lives every day; like immunotherapies that use a person’s own immune system to kill cancer.
Patients need these cures and they need your support.
Race: Philly Rock n Roll Half Official Time: 1:55:23 Course: Flat and pretty. Weather: A little known weather system called a Humidity Vortex moved in STRAIGHT FROM HELL.
Top line: I thought I was going to PR in this one. I did not. Not even close. 10 minutes slower than that. It wasn’t my worst, either, so there is that. We also raised a good bit of money for charity.
Excuses: Going into weekend, I’d been showing signs of a slight cold, scratchy throat, tired, achy. I think it was going away by Saturday night, Sunday morning. But one of the pleasures of being me is that race nerves don’t just make me go to the toilet like crazy — my apologies to the maid at the Hilton Garden Inn — they also make me snotty. So did I still have a cold, or was the steady stream of snot threatening to drip onto my pre-run banana just nerves? The world may never know.
The race: Started out just over the pace I needed, figuring I could pick it up once I figured out how I was feeling. You’ll see below how well that didn’t go. By mile five, I was fairly certain I wouldn’t be able to keep it up. And I was sweating. Sweating like crazy.
Is your dog naked? Running around the house with all its naughty bits on display like some heathen? Well, we can change that.
Would you like your dog to look smart in a tuxedo, sexy in a swanky dress or spirited in your favorite team’s colors? Then you’re in luck.
As part of my fundraising efforts for Team in Training, I’m raffling off two (2) customized dog outfits from Syludu. You can get a sampling of the goods here. Of course, if you’re the lucky winner, you can simply pick one of those dresses. But you can also pick your own color combinations or themes — like a lime-green tuxedo, perhaps a TNT-purple dress or even a jersey or dress with your favorite football team (yes, even if you are the misguided sort who roots for the Alabama Crimson Tide of the Dallas Cowboys).
If you know me, you know I like to have a drink every now and then — now being the evening and then being that night. I also give up drinking from time to time. And what strikes me the most isn’t that I feel any better — I mean I’m not a drunk who spends my days curled up on the couch swearing I’ll never drink again while checking the clock to see if it’s late enough in the day to have a drink without anyone judging me.
What strikes me most is the amount of money saved. Granted, I live in New York and even at my age I frequent bars, so the tab is a little higher than the average bears. But it’s probably lower than many other big-city folk as I’m a fan of lower end bars and straightforward drinks. You usually won’t find me in a “lounge” sipping fancy-pants cocktails. A fancy-pants cocktail, if you’re wondering, is anything that has more than the two following ingredients: whiskey, ice.
Once again, I –along with some of the other chucklemonkeys at Crain Communications — have decided to don the purple and run the Hamptons Half Marathon to raise money for Team in Training and the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. DONATE NOW!
That’s right. I need your help in taking Leukemia and Lymphoma out behind the woodshed and beating them right out of existence. With your help last year, I crushed the fund-raising minimum. You not only helped me, you helped others on our team.
And, of course, you helped TNT. Which is the important thing. But this is more than just running around in purple shirts. LLS raises a ton of money and that money has actually helped make big, provable strides in the fight against blood cancer.
Consider this one stat: A kid diagnosed with blood cancer in the 1960s had a 4% chance of survival. A kid today has a 90% chance.
But before we go patting ourselves on the back, I’ll tell you what the coordinator told us. As amazing as that is, imagine putting 10 parents in a room and telling one set of them that their child is going to die.
I’ve signed up for my second year of running the Lymphoma & Leukemia Society’s Team in Training. Why? To raise money to cure cancer. To hang out with the friends I made last year. Because if I don’t sign up for these things, I start to grow as wide as I am tall. When I do sign up for these things I can eat ice cream and cake.
But before I blather on about me some more, a thing or two about LLS. Since it’s inception in 1949, it’s raised over $750 million to fight blood cancers. That’s a — what’s the scientific term? That’s an assload of money. What do they do with this money? Here’s a quick peak. And it’s made a difference. The easiest way to see this is to join TNT and notice the number of survivors actually training with groups. One gentleman who’ll be training with Brooklyn this summer spoke to us yesterday. He was diagnosed at the end of 2009. LESS THAN TWO YEARS AGO. He was headed for a painful future of bone-marrow transplants when his doctors told him about a study in its fourth year that had discovered that people with his specific type of cancer responded to chemo just as well as they did bone-marrow transplants. This past March he ran a half marathon. Now he’s training for New York.
Guess who funded the study? Go on. Guess. LLS. And people like you who helped me raise money last year.
Another stat they dropped on us. A kid diagnosed with blood cancer in the 1960s had a 4% chance of survival. A kid today has a 90% chance. But before we go patting ourselves on the back, I’ll tell you what the coordinator told us. As amazing as that is, imagine putting 10 parents in a room and telling one set of them that their child is going to die.
I’ve joked before that I’m already beyond my midlife crisis stage because my life expectancy is, at best, 65. I grew up with the general impression that cancer, especially on my dad’s side, stalked the family, attacking this one or that one and, depending on its mood, killing amazingly fast or siphoning away life over the course of painful years. It didn’t matter if they were drunks or smokers or didn’t take care of themselves. In fact, in a few of the cases that stand out for me, the victims led clean lives. My grandmother’s sister didn’t drink, didn’t smoke and ate food so bland it was considered a joke in an place like South Louisiana. Her oldest son contracted some form of cancer and was dead before 50. Continue reading “Running Away from Cancer”→
It’s 8:37 a.m. and I’m sitting in an out-of-the way waiting room in Dermatology (in the 53rd Street outpatient center). I arrived at 8 a.m. for an 8:15 appointment and I’ve already had the first layer of skin taken off my nose as part of the Mohs procedure necessary to get the basal carcinoma off my schnoz. Now I wait while they see how much cancer is in the layer they took off. If it’s still there, they go again. It took all of fifteen minutes, 10 of which was waiting for the local anesthesia to kick in. Continue reading “My Day at Memorial Sloan Kettering”→