More Developments of an Odd Nature

So I ran the Susan G. Komen race last weekend. I also spoke to Mark Nolan for about ten minutes,but the nature of the race prevented me from being interviewed on TV -- much to mine and Michelle's disappointment, I did get some surreptitious video of Mark as I talked to him, so that was cool.

The Race for the Cure was a cool event with tons of cool schwag. And it was neat being there... although I was the only guy I saw with a survivor shirt. Believe me, I looked for others. There was a small ceremony for the men of breast cancer (for survivors and male family members of survivors) but there was little mention made of male breast cancer.

I remember when I was first diagnosed with this disease, I read that there were incidences of men being treated poorly by some women because this is "their disease". I didn't believe it myself; but I think I did experience it some this last weekend.

In fact, as I was at about mile 2 and a 1/2, I had some women yell at me from the side of the road, "You're wearing the wrong shirt! You're not a survivor!" I was half out of breath, but yelled back that I was. She said something else snarky, but I had already run past her and couldn't hear her over my own labored breathing. I also got quite a few mean looks when some women saw my survivor shirt.

Michelle gets really angry when she hears about this, or watches anything on breast cancer. She thinks it's almost criminally wrong that breast cancer is positioned solely as a woman's disease. She watched the Channel 3 broadcast and grew even angrier because it was about the bravery of women, and about women that had been lost, and how women needed help. It drives her out of her mind that people don't mention the male part of the equation.

I don't mind so much, but I'm starting to come around to her way of thinking.

So I ran the race in about 37 minutes. I've had better 5K times, but I did have cancer 4 months ago, so I'm going to cut myself some slack. I was actually running just under a ten minute mile in fact. My best friend and brother from another mother,Richie, went with me and encouraged me throughout the race. I'll be eternally grateful to him for being such a great friend and staying by my side - which he did throughout the race. He didn't need to do that... the dude runs traitholons... but he did.

That's what makes him such a great friend.

So I was at a sub-10 minute mile race (in the ball park of a 9 and a half minute pace) when we ran down East 9th and out and around the Cleveland Browns stadium. And then we began the arduous, punishing, long run up West 3rd. I lost quite a bit of time there and never made it up.

But I'm glad I did it and will probably do it again next year.

Next on the list is a 10K sometime in the next few months. Wish me luck.

Another interesting development's occurred in my quesst to spread the word about male breast cancer.

I actually sold an article I wrote about my experience to the Cleveland Scene. Dor those not local, The Cleveland Scene is a weekly free newspaper available throughout Cleveland. It is an eclectic mix of news, art, political commentary, and tons of S&M ads in the back. It is actually a well-respected periodical because it doesn't feel the need to impress sponsors and advertisers like the more mainstream local newspapers do. Because of that, it has some great reporting and even better commentary on life in Cleveland.

In fact, on of its main staff writers is a Erin O'Brien... who can be found over in my blogroll to the right. Show Erin some love and visit her blog because she's an incredible writer.

Anyway, I received a call from the editor of The Scene this week and he's excited to publish my piece. Very cool... but there is a more disconcerting aspect to what he told me. You see, I have a Scene photographer coming over to the house tonight to take some pictures of my scars. That's right... the editor wants pictures of me and my scars.

What's freaking me out is that both he and the photographer used the word 'cover' when talking to me. That sound you just heard was me groaning audibly.

There's something disturbing about the thought of my scarred chest and flabby torso spread out on the cover of a periodical that is available in every bar, coffee house, and book store in the Cleveland Metropolitan area. Not to mention that The Scene actually has newspaper boxes on just about every corner where you can find a Cleveland Plain Dealer box as well.

Yeah! for selling my article.... and boo! for pictures of my ponderous gut and paunch.

I just need to keep telling myself that this is all for a good cause and it's to spread the word about male breast cancer.