I've Got Something To Say

October, as everyone in the free world knows, is Breast Cancer Awareness month.  My mom is a breast cancer survivor, and I am grateful every single day for the treatment she received, for the diagnostic technology which allowed for fairly early discovery, and for the pharmaceuticals which have helped to keep her cancer-free for nearly 8 years.  I don't think it's possible to receive a diagnosis as frightening as cancer and not have your life changed.  I know that my entire family thinks differently about breast cancer, now, and will never again look at a pink ribbon without feeling so blessed that my mom beat the disease which takes so many.  

But that's not what I wanted to say.

I love football.  Specifically, American, NFL football (not that silly old kind you play with your actual foot on the ball).  Each year, for the past several, the NFL has "gone pink" all through October for breast cancer awareness.  I have several problems with this.

1. When will we stop paying so much money for pink merchandise, that we could be spending on donations that can help people?  In case you don't watch NFL games, let me share. 53 players on each team.  Dozens of coaches.  Cheerleaders.  Owners.  Refs.  Guys on the sidelines throwing beads and noisemakers into the stands.  All of those people have different, pink accented outfits to wear in October.  Pink socks. Pink cleats.  Pink paint on the field.  Pink gloves.  Pink pom-poms.  Pink pocket squares.  Supposedly, the pink gear is auctioned off at the end of the campaign, with the proceeds donated to the American Cancer Society, but according to this article that had me nodding in agreement all the way through, the NFL declines to say what percentage of those funds are actually donated.  Plus, even if 100% of the profits are donated, it still cost money to produce those items.  LOTS of money- and that money could be used for such better purposes!
2. Is awareness really what we need?  I think we're all aware of breast cancer, the risk factors, and the ways to diagnose (monthly self-exam, mammograms as recommended by your doctor).  Who doesn't know that?  Is it the average NFL fan?  No.  If I had my druthers, the funds raised by the many campaigns would go toward: a.) Mammograms and treatment for women without health insurance or who couldn't otherwise afford them and b.) Prevention research.   There are plenty of other problems that we need to be aware of.  Sex trafficking.  GMOs.  The Buccaneer's inability to win games, even when they're handed the W on a silver platter.

   

   I'm not sure that I'm ready to talk about this image, yet, but you can ask if you need an explanation. I'll do my best to overcome my anger and frustration.

3. Men can get breast cancer, too.  It's rare, and it's easier for men to detect a problem because men typically have less breast tissue than women.  See the statistics, risk factors, and treatment options here.  But, breast cancer awareness campaigns, like the NFL's, and many others, make it seem like it's just a girl thing.  I <3 boobies!  Put on your pink bra!  Save the tatas!  The fact is, breast cancer is much less discriminatory than the NFL.  There, I said it.

Here's my advice, NFL:  How 'bout you DON'T use a widespread disease that kills thousands of women each year to boost your ratings with a demographic that you want on your side. DON'T profit off of the fear and suffering of so many people.  How 'bout, instead, you raise awareness about the diseases that kill men, since they're actually listening to you from September-Superbowl Sunday.  Or, don't buy thousands of pink towels for sweaty guys to hang over their rear ends, and instead, spend more money on treating the health issues that so many of your former players face.  If nothing else, could you at least make it believable that this campaign of yours is doing some good?  Please?

If you could choose, what disease/problem would everyone be made aware of?

What I'm Reading III

Alternate post title: Thank God for Libraries Full o' Free Books
Second alternate post title:  Unfinished Book Reviews (Again)

The list of books I want to read is growing so long, it actually hurts my head a little to think of it.  I'm not complaining, mind you.  I love reading, and the fact that there are so many delicious books that I have yet to dive in to makes me feel exhilarated.  Often, I find myself inwardly whining about not having enough time to read, but recently, I came to a realization that changed things for me.

Me: Ugghhh!  Another book to read?  

Less Annoying Me: Ugghhh!  More whining?

Me: But I don't have any tiiiiime!  Grr!

Less Annoying Me: Shut up.  You're a stay-at-home-mom, and half the time you don't even do laundry or dishes.  Not many grown-ups have more time than you.

Me:  So, what you're saying is...?

Less Annoying Me:  Maybe try a new plan.  Step 1- stop complaining about not having any time when you're wasting it on facebook and Subway Surfing on the Kindle Fire.  Step 2- read more books, simultaneously.  There's no way this "one at a time" nonsense is going to work.  Duh.

See, the last reading plan of mine has not been quite as effective since Baby has been sleeping through the night.  Hence, the Great Threebook Experiment.

Book #1- 

This is one that my dad and my oldest nephew have been insisting that I read for years now.  If I had taken their advice and read it a long time ago, I probably could have borrowed it from the library.  Now, there's even a wait for the audio version on CD, because, as my dad mentioned in the frantic text message he sent to me last week, the movie comes out in November and even the trailer is full of spoilers.  Lucky for me, the Kindle version was less than $5, and now I'm 72% done.  Let me say this carefully, so as not to be like the spoiler-filled movie trailer:  the beginning made me feel sad-almost unbearably so-because I'm the mom of a 6 year-old.  The middle made me angry, and during the last 15% or so, I've started to get "The Gotta" (Stephen King's term from Misery, meaning exactly what you'd think.  If you've ever read a good book, you know about The Gotta.).  So far, I've also managed to avoid seeing any ads for the movie (thank you, DVR!), and I'm confident that I can finish the book without having the ending spoiled for me.

Book #2-

At least 255 days of each year, Husband starts his morning watching Mike & Mike on ESPN 2.  They've been hosting a morning sports radio talk show for many more years than I've known about them, and at some point they started showing the radio broadcast on TV.  I enjoy talk radio, and I enjoy sports, and I enjoy my husband being happy, so I've gotten into it, too.  There are occasions that I turn it on before Husband wakes up, or keep it on after he has left for work.  Both Mikes are the kind of guys that you expect to be friends with as soon as you meet.  Also, they disagree about things sometimes, but not in the put-on, super annoying way that a lot of other sportscasters disagree.  Plus, they almost always have great things to say about my team's QB, even though my team is not usually the greatest.  I probably didn't need to ramble on and on about all of that, just to let you know that I feel like I know the Mike who wrote this, his first novel.

Back to the book!  Husband picked it up for me from the library the other day (prompting the whiny conversation in my head that I relayed up there) and I've just started Part 2, about 1/3 of the way through.  I'm really, really enjoying it so far.  I do sort-of "hear" Greenberg's voice, especially in the humorous parts, and my suspicion that most radio personalities have potty mouths when off air has been bolstered by the language in the book.  (I don't mind when book-people curse, as long as the words fit with their persona.)  I keep looking for evidence of inexperience or poor writing skills, but I've been pleasantly surprised to instead find myself engaged by and relating to the characters.  The only problem for me is that I read the summary of the story a couple of months ago when the book had just been released.  I was hoping all through Part 1 that I was remembering the summary of a different book, and that what I suspected was going to happen wasn't really going to happen to these women whom I already am attached to.  Alas, my memory served, and the first sentences of Part 2 confirmed my sad suspicions.  Without having finished it, I feel like it's kind-of cheating to recommend it.  Howzabout I'll let you know if I change my mind at the end, and want to take back my recommendation?  For now, go ahead and grab it.  I can vouch for Part 1, at least.

Book #3-

Because, well, I said I would.  Plus, my parents gifted me with it.  I'll admit, the multiple before-chapter-1 chapters annoyed me.  A LOT.  I figured there must have been some sort of dare, like, "Betcha can't use every sort of introduction in one book" so the authors were like, "Oh, yeah?  Watch this!"  Author's note.  Foreword.  Preface.  Introduction.  Chapter A.  A note to the reader. That's when I stopped reading, for a while, but I've picked it back up because, well, I said I would.  Like when reading a textbook or the Bible, I've even been prompted to highlight passages.  It's written pretty well, once the actual chapters start, and seems to be well-researched, too.  Probably you didn't know it, but I have a relative (NOT the sister I always mention) who is an addict, and that's one of the kinder words I use to describe her, lately.  If you're of a mind to do so, please pray for our family.  Even while reading the helpful words of those who have lived through the horror of a loved one's addiction, I'm finding it hard to be encouraged.

In other news, I found another great deal today!

Quick!  Get your bottled water before the sale ends and it goes back to the regular price!  Oh, and make sure you use your extra special card for the purchase.

Read more, whine less, and don't pay too much for bottled water.

What are YOU reading?

Snagged any great deals lately?

Looking Back

I went for a run today.  It was (relatively) short, in beautiful weather, on familiar roads, with only my iPod for company.  Sometimes, I plan what I'm going to think about on my solitary runs.  (Although I don't think it's actually possible to plan one's thoughts.  Is it?  Go ahead and try, why don't you.  Try to think about sleep disorders and dreaming.  I bet that within seconds, your thoughts will have drifted off to a recent dream you had, or why you're tired, or whether it's normal to fall into a deep sleep within mere seconds, while holding a glass of red wine water and having just been in the midst of a not-even-slightly-boring conversation. Ha!  Now you're thinking about me, aren't you?  Wondering if I have narcolepsy?  I don't.  I'm almost positive.)  Today, I was going to think about zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzhuh?  Wha?  What was I saying?  Oh, yeah.  Ahem.  Anyway, it isn't important what I planned to think about.  What I ended up thinking about was how far I've come (har dee har) as a runner.  

Me on the left

I shared my how I became a runner tale a while back, but I'm not sure that I made it clear how much of a runner I was not before those early morning drag outs with my sister.  I was one of those, "Do you need money for gas?" people when I talked to runners.  I didn't understand why anyone would run when walking or driving takes so much less effort.  During my previous fitness phases, I had always skipped cardio.  I mean, I would pretend, of course.  I would sit comfortably on the stationary bike, pedaling at the nice, I-can-still-read-my-magazine pace of around 3.5-4 m.p.h.  I would use the rowing machine for 8 minutes and then check my pulse, making sure to look concerned, like I had just exerted myself SO much, but made it look effortless.  I smoked a lot of cigarettes.  I tried to walk 5k  to benefit breast cancer research and literally could not make it up the first hill.  After working out in front of my tv with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders or Jillian Michaels, I would brag for days about, "I was sweaty."

Now, I'm a runner, and strangely proud to call myself so.  I know about PRs and BQs and carb loading and negative splits and Yassos and that I over-pronate.

My black toenail

1 of 7 medals

During today's run, I found myself looking for roads I could run down to add a bit of mileage to my planned route.  I smiled a bit, remembering that my sister used to have to threaten and ridicule me (in a nice way, of course) to get me to add on an extra tenth of a mile.  Not too much later, a woman came running toward me, and then slowed to a walk before she climbed the hill between us.  She had on (what I hope was) her oldest t-shirt, raggedy cotton shorts, and was more than a little overweight.  We grinned happily at each other as our paths crossed, and I remembered how many times I have walked up the hills.  Walked for no reason.  Walked because an injury forced it.  I wanted to tell her, and probably should have, that she was doing something great for her body, her mind, and her life.  As I looked back at her, I thought she might want to know that it does get easier, better, more fun, and faster.  I would love to see her again someday, zooming up the hills with that same happy grin on her face.

I don't know how the transformation happens, exactly, from Hater (with a purposeful capital H) to runner (with a purposeful lowercase r, it isn't like I'm a professional or whatever), but it's pretty awesome that it does.  Maybe it's like planned thoughts- suddenly, you find yourself thinking of something entirely different than you expected, and you're not quite sure how your thoughts traveled in that direction.  I'm sure glad that I experienced the H2r change.  If ever you think, "Not me!  I'm no runner.", I advise you to remember me.  My red, burning thighs, as the blood circulated through them faster than ever before.  My whining about an extra tenth of a mile.  My whining about another hill.  My repeating, "I'm going to die.  I'm really going to die" to my ever-so-patient sister during every run.  And now, my planning each day around my run.  My silly grin, when I see other runners working hard.  My 5 a.m. speed workouts.  My hundreds of miles, without a single one regretted.

Sheesh.  I'm sappy lately, huh?  I blame Ronde.  His retirement from my favorite football team has me all sleepy...I mean emotional!  I'm totally awake while I type this.

Okay, for real.  Were you able to think only about what you planned to think about?