We all marvel at their toughness. How do the men and women who compete in the Iditarod Sled Dog Race do it? Certainly these are uncommon people, these athletes we admire for their tenacity and spirit; for their love of their dogs; and for their passion for the wild side of Alaska. And we are more than fans; we are incredible addicts, race junkies. We know
these mushers by name, know where they live, the names of their families, dogs, kennels, and much more. We admire them for the perseverance and discipline they teach us, lessons not easily found in our comfortable and convenient modern world.
Then there are a few mushers we also know for their personal battles with disease. The stories of how they fought for their lives show us how the same traits that make them outstanding people and mushers helped them cope, hope, and persevere while battling cancer. Four Time Iditarod champion Susan Butcher fought a long and valiant fight with leukemia, passing away in August of 2006. She was an amazing woman and admired worldwide. Lance Mackey successfully battled throat cancer and has won the last two Yukon Quests and Iditarod championships. No one else has accomplished this feat. And then there is the lady who is easily identified in a crowd by her pink parka-DeeDee Jonrowe, a breast cancer survivor.
I recently looked up DeeDee’s cancer journey on her website. I knew the basic story, but wanted to know the details. DeeDee was diagnosed with breast cancer in July 2002. She had surgery and many months of chemotherapy that ended just three weeks before the 2003 race. Amazingly, DeeDee competed in that race, placing 18th. She also won the Most Inspirational Musher Award and was named the honorary chair of the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life.
DeeDee’s story is particularly inspiring to me because I am facing challenges similar to those she overcame in 2003. I was told I had cancer in late September and had a radical hysterectomy at the end of October; it took the better part of two months to recover. I then began chemo and radiation therapy three weeks ago, with three weeks left to endure. It is not fun, I promise, but neither is it permanent. I should be finished with my treatment schedule by the end of January. Then near the end of February, I am supposed to go dashing off to Alaska for a month to fulfill my duties as 2009 Target Teacher on the Trail.
I won’t have to race over a thousand miles on a dog sled. And I won’t be exposed to the brutal Alaska winter for a week and a half unabated. But I’m supposed to be running around doing workshops and presentations for a couple of weeks before the race, and then fly from checkpoint to checkpoint during the race in a little bush plane carrying my backpack and helping out where I can, plus writing updates to send out to classrooms around the globe. My schedule will be full of both real and ceremonial duties, and I will be very busy, and sometimes very tired.
Right now in the midst of nausea and weakness and drowsiness from medications, I can’t imagine it. But I’m going to do it, because so many others have shown me the way. And if DeeDee can race the Iditarod so soon after surgery and chemo therapy, then I can monitor and report on it. I’m going to do it. Teacher on the Trail coordinator Diane Johnson (what an encourager!) and her wonderful team are committed to my going forward with it, and they will be there to help. I’m going to do it.