Last year, one of my goals was to finish the Toronto Half Marathon. For years, I had been in Toronto during the marathon weekend and loved the energy and excitement of the event. After completing the Tely 10, I started a training program with my coach, Selina. We did our regular weekly training and Sunday long runs to prepare for the event. A couple of weeks before the race, my physician ordered blood work as part of my yearly physical. The results came back normal, except for mildly elevated blood pressure.
A few days before the race, I injured my back while moving a generator off a truck. I couldn't believe it—after all this training, I was now struggling to run. I tried everything: massage, Bio Freeze, K-Tape, stretches, and various pain medications. The day before I left for Toronto, I called my coach in a panic. We decided that I would do what I could, take lots of breaks, and walk if necessary.
On the morning of the race, I was anxious about whether I would finish. I experienced the dreaded "runner's diarrhea," but this time it was different—it was full of blood. I didn't tell my wife, knowing she would insist I skip the race. I cleaned up, kissed my wife, and went to the start line.
After finishing the race, I told my wife what had happened. She was concerned and asked me to monitor my bowel movements for the rest of the day. There was no further evidence of blood, so I assumed it was a one-time occurrence caused by the pain medications.
When we returned home, I thought nothing of it and continued with my life. My wife, a radiologist, mentioned the incident to a surgeon during a scan review. The surgeon suggested I get tested, just to be safe. A rectal exam showed nothing, but as a precaution, I was referred for a colonoscopy.
The day before the colonoscopy, I started taking the laxative to clean out my system. By 10:00 p.m., I had no movement and took another liter. I woke up at 4:00 a.m. to take my final litre, still with no movement. Finally, I managed to get things going.
At the hospital, I checked in with the nurse and shared my experience from the night before. I could see the concern on her face. I got prepped, met with the anesthesiologist, and went in for the procedure. Despite being half asleep from the drugs, I felt a pit of pain and opened my eyes. I saw the monitor and heard the doctor say, "Take two samples there, that's a cancer." My heart sank, my eyes filled with tears, and I passed out, waking up in recovery.
In recovery, I was told my bowel was blocked with a tumor and I needed surgery. The surgeon said that if I could continue a liquid diet for two more days, I could have the surgery. A couple of days later, I had half my bowel removed and samples sent to pathology. I was diagnosed with Stage 3B bowel cancer and needed 12 biweekly chemotherapy treatments. Despite getting a clean bill of health and clean blood work a week before the race, I had cancer. My surgeon told me that the stress from the race might have saved my life.
This year, instead of setting annual goals with my business coach Kim, I have two personal goals: to ring the Bell of Hope after my treatments and CAT scan, and to run the Toronto Half Marathon in October. This race will always hold a special place in my heart.
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