Dear Friends,

Thanksgiving came a few days late this year.

Oh, sure, I ate turkey on Thursday. In fact, I had a large crowd of family and friends, and we had a blast. But it wasn�t until Sunday that the thankfulness came. Sunday I ran my half-marathon on behalf of Team In Training.

The weather in Seattle was perfect. In the 50s and clear. (To not have a rainy day in Seattle in December is something to be thankful for right there.) I started at 7:30 and finished at 10:45. The run itself was wonderful. Crowds cheering all along the way, saying things like �Good job!�, �Looking great!�, and as we neared the finish �You�re almost there!� �You did it!� �Home stretch!� There were loads of participants to chat with along the course, each with their own stories of why they were out there and what their goals were. In between chats and cheers I would say aloud : �Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Dear God, thank you for letting me have this amazing experience.�

I�m sad that it�s over.

I don�t know how to convey what a wonderful experience this has been. I chose to do this race because I wanted to give myself a challenge. Something difficult, yet of my own choosing. I, like so many, was sent into an emotional tailspin after the events of Sept. 11th. I lost a lot of hope. Cynicism was triumphing in my heart. Then I learned about Team In Training, and how they are the largest endurance-training program in the country, and how they raise millions of dollars for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. I went to their recruiting meeting, and I was hooked. �It will change your life,� people said. It did.

Remember my honor patients? Well I�m happy to tell you that little Katie Gunsolus is doing wonderfully. She has only a few more months of chemo to go and then she�s done. Her hair has grown back. She and her twin sister Laura were at several of our events, telling 5-year-old�s jokes and cracking me up. Maritza Braga-Brown trained with us and is off to Honolulu this weekend to walk the entire 26.2 mile Honolulu Marathon. Namaste, Maritza. You are so beautiful.

My son, Zach, ran the Seattle Kids� Marathon yesterday. The kids do 25 miles at home over several weeks, then do the last 1.2 out in Seattle on race day. I am so proud of him! The race was run in memory of my third honor patient, Trevor Price. His mom and dad were there, and his little brother fired the starting gun for the race. I couldn�t help but think that a year ago they had no idea that Trevor was even sick, let alone that he would be gone by the following June. It�s their story that shows we still have work to do in curing leukemia.

The lessons I learned as I trained for this race were so simple. But somehow it�s the simple ones that are the hardest to absorb. There were moments out on the trails when I would laugh at what a blatant metaphor marathon training is for life. Put one foot in front of the other. Slow and steady wins the race. Never say die. Keep your eyes on the prize. It�s all true. All those trite phrases we can�t even hear any more become words to live by when you�re out there running in the cold, twelve long miles ahead of you.

�I could never do what you�re doing,� people would say to me. Yes, they could. If you really wanted to, you could. I learned that out there, too. If you want something bad enough, then you can do it. Set your goal. Give yourself time. Then -- step by step --start walking towards it. You�ll get there. It just takes work. Slow, steady, sometimes boring work. But you�ll get there.

Last night, a few hours after the race, our team met at a local Mexican restaurant. It was our victory party. We drank margaritas, ate delicious food, and limped around the place offering each other congratulations. Sore, tired, and elated, I ate my taquitos and tamales and gave thanks again for having participated in such a wonderful, wonderful program. Thanksgiving was a few days late. But it was the best one yet.

Thanks to all of YOU, from the bottom of my heart. You made it happen.

Love,