Run. Ride. Cancer. Live.

I am not a writer by trade, or even training. I just write because I like it. I don’t know if I am great at it, but it keeps me from losing my damn mind. Writing has been especially important to me since my breast cancer diagnosis in 2019. It has helped me through my darkest times.

As of 2015, an estimated 1.13 million blog posts are sent to the Internets; the web of the worldwide variety.

PER DAY.

Christ. That’s a lot of writers. Wannabe writers. Monkeys behind keyboards.

Surely, you’ve heard of the The infinite monkey theorem?

From Wikipedia:

“It states that a monkey hitting keys at random on a typewriter keyboard for an infinite amount of time will almost surely type a given text, such as the complete works of William Shakespeare. In fact the monkey would almost surely type every possible finite text an infinite number of times.”

Either way, I’ve been wanting to do this for quite some time. Years, in fact.

It all started in 2001 when I took a trip to Brazil with my then 4 1/2-year old daughter and 5 month old son.

You may be silently judging my decision to give up all sense of sanity as I decided take with a small child and an infant to a country I had never been. That’s fair. 

Well, I thought it was a good idea at the time. It was to meet my father’s Brazilian family. The one he left behind in the 1950’s in his quest to forget his old life and start a new one in America.

Since Internet cafes had become a thing by 2001, and I didn’t have anything close to a laptop, I would take the time to write every day or so about our three week adventure. I wrote lengthy emails to my family describing every detail of this magnificent trip.

And that’s when I got the bug to write.

But, did I pursue it? Not really. Throughout my career, I’ve had to write creatively, but not on a regular basis.

I don’t even consider myself a great writer, but, also not a bad one. I mean I did take a couple quarters of college. That should count for something, right?

When Facebook became a thing, I would occasionally recount my motorcycle adventures with the awesome, tatted, biker-babe known as my husband Steve. Because his name is Steve.

I truly enjoy writing about the weird, bizarre, amazing, wonderful things life throws at me when I’m not looking. Or when I’m running. Or when I’m riding. Or climbing mountains. Or when I am simply living. One of those things was being diagnosed with breast cancer. 

This blog is about how my life changed since that diagnosis; my love/hate relationship with running; my joy and sometime misery when riding my motorcycle.

And how I truly try to find a way to live up to my motto: vive ut vivas.

This blog will be about all of those things. Or none of those things.

3 thoughts on “Run. Ride. Cancer. Live.

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