One Step at a Time, Literally

Since my diagnosis of multiple myeloma in March of 2019, I’ve taken an approach to my care that rather compartmentalizes things, and focuses on those areas that I can control. No since in getting ahead of myself, for that distracts from maximizing what I can do – what’s in my control – today.

It might be correct, it might not. But, for me, it brings satisfaction and a peace of mind, and in both the short- and long-haul, I think that’s important.

My approach to knuckling it up with multiple myeloma has been one with physical, mental, emotional and spiritual components. I believe those factors work in concert, together, and to be my best, to give my best in the fight, each of those four areas need careful consideration and cultivation. They work together, synergistically, each leveraging the others. 

As an athlete, I’ve always been goal-oriented. Exercising and working out become training if I have a goal to work toward, be it a game, a season, a race or an event. For me, it’s motivating to be working toward a tangible outcome.

On the bike, I used to set mileage goals as stepping stones to some real buster of events, like the California AIDS Ride (a week-long, 575-mile trek from San Francisco to Los Angeles), the, RAMROD, Ride Around Mt. Rainier in One Day (a 155-mile torture-fest that goes over three mountain passes), and the Mt. Diablo Challenge (an hour on the limit). 

So, earlier this year, when my friend Stacy Hames posted about her progress toward two personal goals, the One Year No Beer challenge and an objective to walk 1,000 miles, I was intrigued.

I wasn’t going to go one year without a beer. That’s not likely. But, a 1,000 miles? Now, that was a goal I could get behind.

Here’s the thing, though. I probably saw Stacy’s post in mid-February or so, about three months after being discharged from the hospital during my stem cell transplant. I was working my way back to fitness, but pretty much starting at square one. I was walking every other day, maybe, for a total of six or seven miles a week. 

That wasn’t going to cut it! For me, the challenge was really going to be to walk 1,000 miles, but to do it in about 10 months. No time to waste.

So, I started walking. 

To accomplish the 1,000-mile goal, a walker needs to walk every single day, covering 2.74 miles each day. Well, sort of. Since 2020 is a Leap Year, there are 366 days this year. So, the calculation this year is 2.732 miles a day. That gets you to 1,000 miles for the year.

The first thing I needed to do was to up my daily mileage, and go further than the daily quota to make up for lost time. In March, I worked on increasing my stamina, which had taken a hit through the stem cell transplant and recovery process, and it came back to me fairly quickly, thanks to all those “deposits” I had put into the “pain bank” on the bicycle.

[Note: In the cycling world, there’s a lot of talk about ‘suffering,’ and a rider’s ability to suffer, to put in an extreme effort when needed. All those extensive, many times painful, training rides are deposits put in the bank, available for withdrawal when the race or event calls for it.]

On March 29, on what was supposed to be the MMRF’s annual San Francisco 5K fundraising event, I walked my own 3.1 miles/5K in celebration. I was finally chipping into my mileage deficit, and I was on my way.

I haven’t stopped since. The last day I didn’t walk was April 5, 141 days ago as of this writing (August 24). And, over a lot of time, and a lot of effort and determination, I’ve gone past the crossover point, where I’m no longer making up for lost time at the beginning of the year. 

August 24 is the 237th day of the year. At 2.732 miles a day, to be on pace, a walker needs to have covered 647.48 miles. At the completion of my walk today, my tracking app, Runkeeper, says I have covered 647 miles.

Okay, okay, so I’m a half-mile short. Give me a break. It gives me a goal to shoot for tomorrow!

Exercise is important for us all, but I think it’s even more so for those who endure chronic health issues. I know that for me physical activity – of which walking/hiking is just one part – makes me feel strong and active, and most notably does NOT make me feel like I’m sick and frail.

When I feel strong, I feel powerful, like nothing can stop me. That helps my mental and emotional state tremendously. It also gives me the energy to go to the market and source nutritious foods, to prepare and eat healthy meals, and, in turn, fuel tomorrow’s physical activities.

It’s all inter-related.

Plus, my daily walks are meditative in a sense. Getting out and listening to the birds, breathing in the fresh air (for the most part), and just soaking in some of the outside world and nature I so often take for granted. My walks allow me time to reflect, create and recreate.  I even get to get caught up with some old friends.

My friend Christina Burress knows a thing or two about all this, and she’s chronicled her personal transformation quite transparently on her Steena 2.0 Instagram account. In one of our recent conversations, she encouraged me to write this post. 

I hope this motivates others just a bit, particularly any fellow multiple myeloma patients. Tomorrow is not promised, not for any of us, so make your choices today wisely. But, it’s also good to look forward and to build toward something. You’ll likely find inspiration and motivation, discover satisfaction in the journey, and power at your destination.

Bless you all, my friends. I’m grateful for your love and support.