My dad took an active interest in all of us and our hobbies and interests. He was always asking questions, coming to the games when he could, shouting from the sidelines. As I started to do triathlons, he’d ask me “well how’s the triathlon training goin youngfella?”. I haven’t done a triathlon in a fair while, but after Dinny passed it was time to get back in the water. Given the purpose, of raising money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma society. Had to do something, and cancer’s in my sights now.

Dad had called me on Dec 18th of 2011, he had been sick with various issues for a while. No amount of tests could show what the cause of it was. The call came in, they had found “something”. A mass. A tumor. Likely malignant. The big C. Fuck.

He took it on the chin, was happy now he knew what he was fighting. And fight it he did, bravely, for 5 months. Numerous tests, and treatments and biopsies and chemo sessions. They couldn’t tell what kind of cancer it was, lymphoma, pancreatic… It didn’t matter. The type it was, in the end, was fast, aggressive, painful and bloody relentless.

Eventually it took him. Dinny was gone. But he lives on in memory, and on bad training days, when I’m sore, I think of him getting himself together to go for chemo, cap on, bouncing out the door with a spring in his step. So I try to bounce out of bed, push through, pull harder in the water, pedal harder on the bike, or grit my teeth and quicken my feet. That’s my way of honoring the man himself.

Winter training for a triathlon is tough. Usually that's your season to build a solid base, take to the gym, put the bike up on rollers. But for a triathlon in March, you have to train through the winter. 3 weeks of build training, 1 week of rest. Repeat.

It's the same schedule my dad had for chemo. I'm reminded of him all the time through this training, every mention of the word lymphoma, cancer, chemo, blood count, and mostly reminded of what he went through. Pool workouts are so freezing cold, you have to keep moving, then you get out and sprint to the dressing room to shower and warm up. It's absolutely horrible.

But I'm reminded of my Dad who passed in May. Chemo chills wake you in the middle of the night, sweating profusely, but cold to the bone where you can't warm up. Seeing someone you love go through that is humbling, holding them as they shiver, and as much as I miss him, I'm glad he doesn't have to go through that anymore.

So for now, no matter the cold, I just keep swimming

Thanks for stopping by my Team In Training page.

So earlier this year I lost my dad to cancer. I can't express in a few words how tough this was for him and my family. It's a heartbreaking disease.

So I'm signing up to do something, anything that will help. Along with Team in Training I'm working to help find cures and more effective treatments for blood cancers. To accomplish that mission, I’m participating in the Lavaman Olympic Distance Triathlon in Hawaii in March 2013, 1 mile swim, 26 mile bike, 6 mile run, as a member of The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s (LLS) Team In Training. With your support, I can help improve the quality of life for patients and their families, and help to find cures for these devastating diseases.

Please make a donation in support of my efforts with Team In Training and help advance the research for cures.