FINAL POST of the season. We did it y'all, not the It that I planned but something. Big awkward group hug to all of you who were part of my Dream Team; I am grateful for you all. Early in my diagnosis, I said that it was teaching me to be obsessively grateful. That still applies. So even at my more disappointed and especially frustrated, like now, I am grateful for many things (like you) and that the stress didn't become a break, that I'll be back to running come spring, that I chase this marathon come next fall (fingers crossed). I hope you will dream your own big dreams and chase everyone (but pace yourself so you don't end up with a stress fracture--says me to self). Stay gold y'all. And thanks again.

Here's an excerpt of a blog post I recently write about this fundraising--and sarcoidosis--trip. And it is quite a trip! (You can read the full article at www.darleneanitascott.com): "One of the things that truly sucks about living with a so-called rare disease like sarcoidosis is you’re invisible even in the spaces that are designed to help you. In clinical environments, you are a question mark. There are so many presentations, you could be suffering from anything…or nothing. In the world, you don’t 'look sick.' In research environments you do not take precedence. Without research there is no FDA testing and without testing there is nothing to approve. Yet we know there are many potential treatments for all the iterations of sarcoidosis. I’ve been prescribed several. None of the drugs currently used for the treatment of sarcoidosis, outside of those two, have been rigorously studied. Yep, that includes the ones I’ve taken. When they are prescribed it’s based on how they worked for other diseases with similarities to sarcoidosis. The research I’m literally running for will make possible treatments that give people like me a better life and moreover a better quality of life free from worrying about managing all the practical, mental, and physical demands of the disease. My insurance company, like the copay-assistance agency, twice denied me one life-extending treatment because of this conundrum. I’m surviving out of spite. Okay, it is indeed God’s grace for real. And, because over time my body adjusted to the medication that my insurance company was willing to fund though it’s no telling how much damage my heart sustained–that it didn’t have to–in the meantime. Every mile I complete is hard won for many reasons, some named here. That’s why this fundraiser has never really been about a marathon. It’s way bigger than a marathon."

James Baldwin writes: “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” Tomorrow marks exactly one month until marathon day. I am not physically or mentally prepared for it. I know this, but I keep acting like a miracle will come along and change it. I have been rewarded with miracles before, some I chased and others that just came on their own. While speaking this aloud makes me remarkably angry and so sad, I consider the words of Baldwin. I'm accepting that this is not going to be my year. So much for the magic of sevens (seventh year; seventh marathon--y'all remember). But alas, we still have fundraising to do! Your donation, no matter the size, will help FSR fund much needed life-saving research miracles that help people like me keep chasing their dreams.

Order your official Dream Team membership tee shirts here! Your orders will support my fundraising goal, but you have to hurry to get this exclusive offer--orders must be placed by October 1st! www.customink.com/fundraising/team-rally-for-sarc_darlene

Here's a really good article on what it has been like to train with chronic illness. https://www.trailrunnermag.com/people/culture-people/running-and-chronic-illness-between-two-worlds/

Quick update: This week I'm happy to report that I celebrated a couple PRs (personal records). Well, not really celebrated; I sat with and in my joy. Here's what it showed me: this training is hard. But I do hard things like live with this disease, which makes training hard/er than any I had before it. Joy in relief against all that is so much brighter. Dazzling even.

Yesterday was me and Zinzi's anniversary. (Zinzi is my pacemaker/icd). I mark the anniversary annually, usually with a few miles and cake, flowers, and balloons. It's a blessing to have lived through the runs that she wasn't there for; I've run in at least one marathon where someone did not. Yesterday we had the cupcakes and flowers but no miles because the air quality was poor for people like me. I wasn't happy that I couldn't get outside. But since I want to stay healthy so I can run my next run, I put the miles in on my bike. If I've learned anything, it's how to adapt and to be grateful that I can.