Breathing Easy

Approaching 40 this past summer, I had smoked for 24 years and never accomplished anything athletic in my life. A trip up the stairs would leave me winded. I had a pack-a-day habit, unsuccessfully attempting every pharmaceutical approach available to quit smoking. It was not until I tied on a pair of running shoes that I was able to quit.

That is not to say that I quit smoking right away. I had bought the shoes in 2007 – a pair of New Balance 1223. They looked good, especially when I wore them out to the patio to smoke another cigarette. I thought they looked particularly good when I jaunted down to the grocery store for a case of Killians and a bag of Doritos.

Having lost my dad to cancer in 2007, and watching my mom’s health deteriorate since then, it was with increasing determination that I set out give tobacco the boot. It was not until I learned of my cousin’s success that I knew how to quit.

The Captain is two years my senior and had smoked all his life. Then, in 2008, he started running and quit smoking. He was running regularly, counting calories and losing weight.

On June 16 of this year, I smoked my last cigarette at midnight. I went to bed and, after a good night of sleep, I strapped on my running shoes and went for a jog around the block. Rather, I should say, I jogged from my driveway to the neighbor’s driveway and walked the rest of the way.

I was terribly out of shape. The pounding my lungs took that first morning was enough to keep me off cigarettes the rest of the day. Although I wanted the pleasure of a cigarette, I knew I could not suffer a cigarette. I continued this routine for the next several days.

It did not take very long for my knees to complain.

My doctor prescribed physical therapy, and I started riding my bike, instead. This lead to my riding the 100-mile course in Pelotonia in August but, that’s another story.

Now that the weather has turned south, I’ve put the bike away. My physical therapist cleared me to start running again, so I am working up to running the Commit to be Fit 5k in the Spring, and the Columbus Marathon in the Fall. I am presently running one mile, walking two, and haven’t had a cigarette in six months.

As for the Captain, he ran in the Akron Marathon this past Fall and qualified for Boston. He really had to set the bar high. Bastard.

In Memoriam

My dad had quit smoking two years prior and was walking up to five miles a day. He was losing weight, lowering his cholesterol, and regularly taking his prescribed medications. He was sixty-five years old and taking great care of himself. When he started experiencing pain in his hip after his walks, he thought little of it except to take a pain killer and a nap.

On Thursday, May 31, 2007, my dad was diagnosed with lung, liver and bone cancer. He liked to joke that they found nothing in his brain. We were told that his cancer could not be cured but progression could be delayed. He was given two months without treatment, up to two years with treatment. My dad was determined to put up a fight and began treatment right away.

However, treatment seemed to be worse than the disease. My dad was confused, hallucinating, in greater pain and often sleeping from the medications. We all agreed that quality of life was more important than prolonging life. Treatment was stopped.

We then learned that my dad also had cancer in his spine. Two of three doctors concluded he would only live a few more weeks.

My birthday was July 13th. Hula Girl’s birthday was July 20th. My parents’ 40th anniversary was July 31st. The doctors declared that he would not see any of these events.

My dad saw my birthday, Hula Girl’s birthday, and his 40th wedding anniversary. We all wondered if the doctors were wrong about his prognosis. My wife and I had been spending all of our weekends, since the diagnosis, with my parents and even had taken time off from work. The weekend of August 3rd, we considered that we would take the following weekend off from visiting in order to spend some time with each other. We were tired, both physically and emotionally. On the afternoon of Sunday, August 5th, we left Akron to return to Columbus. My dad stepped to the front door to wave goodbye as we pulled out of the driveway, and we waved back.

The next evening, my dad slipped into a coma. Hula Girl and I called off from work Tuesday morning, packed our clothes, and returned to Akron. I would have no more conversations with my dad. We knew the end was near, and my only prayer was that he would not pass on August 11th, my youngest son’s birthday.

My dad passed at 9:48pm on Friday, August 10th, 2007.

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