Painting no. 68 "Unintentional Abstract or Whatever You Want It To Be." Acrylic on Canvas
2024 was certainly not a dull year for me. I turned 65 in January and Medicare kicked in. And then....
In the month of February, I experienced my first solo art exhibition. I shared my art journey as a self-taught painter and the stories behind my paintings. Read about it here. I agree with Pablo Picasso — "Painting is another way of keeping a diary."
In late March, while training for a 24-hr track ultra, I fell. If I hadn't fallen I would not have known I had early-stage breast cancer. It was a Divine intervention moment in the form of an angel disguised as a motorist sent by God to nudge me to get my mammogram. Here's part one of my cancer journey.
Ten days after my diagnosis, and on Mother's Day weekend, I completed my 39th ultra, the Dawn to Dusk to Dawn 24-hr track ultra. The next morning, a Savi seed was placed in my right breast to help the surgeon locate and remove my early-stage cancer. Here's my race report.
In June, I had a successful partial mastectomy. The next day I went for a two-mile walk with my husband Jon. He couldn't keep up with me. In July, I was declared cancer free and opted out of endocrine and radiation therapy. I continued training for two ultras coming up in October. And I read about the history of cancer, why we get cancer, and learned so much. Here's part two of my journey.
In August, Jon and I headed out to our next national parks adventure, this time to three national parks In Colorado via Amtrak trains. It was quite the adventure, including a lockdown at Union Station in Chicago during the Democratic National Convention. Thinking about traveling halfway across the country on Amtrak? Read on, then decide.
In October, I had two back-to-back ultras: the Hainesport 12 hour and the BadgerPalooza 12 hour. Oh, I forgot to mention that in July, an MRI of my right knee revealed a meniscus tear, bone marrow edema, a stress injury, and a Baker's cyst. So, I took it easy, did PT exercises, walk slow miles, and went pool running. And I walked both ultras. I placed 7th female at Hainesport. Here's my Hainesport race report.
Then a week later, I placed 7th female at the BadgerPalooza, a back-yard type ultra, in the 12-hr event. Seven really is my lucky number. Here's my race report and a 13-minute video Jon made after every lap.
Reflecting on 2024
As I reflect, I continue to find joy in my perfect imperfections in my paintings. And sometimes imperfections lead to an unintended creation. In November, the painting above ("Unintentional Abstract or Whatever You Want It To Be), was created unintentionally while I was attempting to paint a landscape of the sun rising over a lake at dawn, and inspired by a photo Jon took at the BadgerPalooza ultra site. I was pleased with the soft and bright colors of nature, and my second abstract in a collection of 68 paintings so far.
I posted the painting on my social media and asked followers two questions: 1. What does the painting remind you of? and 2. How does It make you feel? Two people replied.
One person replied, "lily pads." Another wrote, "I see various landscapes, water, desert, blue skies. I see hurdles that one must go through, seasons of life one needs to get through but achievable."
Both responses made me smile, but the second one resonated the most and described the year I had after my first solo art exhibition — an unexpected cancer diagnosis I beat, and a knee injury I healed.
As Jon's caregiver when he was diagnosed with stage IV cancer in 2018, and then again in 2022, I was familiar with what a cancer diagnosis entails and what it could mean.
But the most important takeaway from my breast cancer journey, is that early detection is key to being spared grueling months and years of chemotherapy and aggressive radiation before and/or after surgeries.
After I got my diagnosis, I got the sense that some feel that because a person does not need chemo and radiation, they don't really have cancer. My experience has taught me that that's the best kind of cancer to get — cancer that will spare you painful and costly chemo and radiation treatments, and that will help you to bounce back quicker.
Every person's cancer journey is different. Some will have symptoms, others will experience no symptoms. Some symptoms mimic other health concerns like lower back pain. In October, we lost our brother-in-law within a year of his diagnosis. Liposarcoma, a rare and aggressive cancer, presented itself as lower back pain, and chemo, radiation, and surgery were unsuccessful.
Divine intervention and an angel saved my life and spared me from my cancer advancing. I was very lucky to have tripped on an uneven sidewalk, experience pain on my right rib and breast that propelled me to get a rib x-ray and a mammogram, a mammogram that I had skipped. Don't skip your mammogram.
In 2024, I learned so much about cancer and why we get cancer. Aging increases our chances of getting cancer. I know I might have a recurrence. I know that cancer can present itself in another part of my body. I know to be vigilant, and to go on with the blessings of every day.
And once again, ultrarunning saved my life. If I had not been training for an ultra, I wouldn't have fallen and discovered I had early-stage breast cancer. And while I know the importance of walking during grueling ultras, I learned that you can walk an entire ultramarathon after healing a knee injury. Doing so prevented putting stress on my knee and risking reinjuring my knee, and helped me to cross the finish line in both timed-races, and still place in the top 10. Training sensibly, adapting accordingly, and being a good and consistently pretty fast walker were key
And I learned that, despite the setbacks I had not anticipated, I hit the jackpot when I placed 7th female in three consecutive ultras—777! Now it's on to the Endless Endurance The Old Six Day 72-hr ultra on a small 5-lane track; my 42nd ultra at age 66.
I invite you to share your year in 2024 as a painter or artist of any kind, a cancer survivor and thriver, a cancer caregiver, a runner of any distance, your Amtrak train adventure, or any other life experience you had in 2024 at any age, and lessons learned.
Here's to 2025!
My family and I wish you and yours a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, and a Happy, Healthy, and Peaceful 2025.
©2024
I am the author of Come What May, I Want to Run: A Memoir of the Saving Grace of Ultrarunning in Overwhelming Times. Jon's cancer journey and my journey as his caregiver are themes in my book. Order it here from Wipf and Stock Publishers, Amazon, Bookshop, and Barnes & Noble. It's available in hardcover, paperback, e-book, and Kindle.
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