The Joys of Systems and Routines
Lessons learned from cycling help me deal with cancer and now prove valuable during the coronavirus lockdown.
I was home alone the evening I received my cancer diagnosis.The girls were away at college and Carol was downtown at a business event.
My urologist’s nurse called about 6:30 and told me the doctor was gone for a few days, but she thought I would want to know the results of my biopsy. I had a Gleason grade 5+5 prostate cancer, which is the most aggressive diagnosis one can have for prostate cancer. The next steps were investigating surgery and radiation treatment.
I thanked her and we hung up. I was alarmed, fearful and sad. But the very first thoughts I had centered around cycling. Surprise.
I thought immediately of climbing Pinnacle Road in Iowa County, just west of Madison, Wisconsin. Pinnacle Road and nearby Mounds Park Road have sections where the road pitches up at 19%, a steep grade that can make grown men and women cry. I had ridden it many times, and the only way to get up those pitches is to turn the pedals, one revolution at a time.
Keep it small. Don’t look too far ahead. One turn at a time. That’s how I was going to deal with my cancer.
That was October of 2011. I think of that again now amidst the coronavirus crisis. There is a joy in keeping it small, not projecting out the future, maintaining the systems and routines that keep the wheels of life turning, one revolution at a time.
My cancer was discovered to be metastatic in a rib on December 30, 2016. After radiation and more androgen deprivation/hormone therapy, I was clear again until November of last year when more lesions were found in my left shoulder and on my L5 vertebrae at the base of my spine.
More radiation and new, more powerful pharmacology with more powerful side effects. I thought back to that first night when I had received my diagnosis. Keep it small. Don’t project out. Turn the pedals one revolution at a time.
But this was different. In October 2011, I was at the beginning of all of this. Now? The news set me back, and for about six weeks, I got out of my routines. The simple systems I relied on to keep life rolling shut down. I went into a shell. I even skipped the weekly Thursday night gatherings of the Entremanures at Union in Evanston, our group of guys who have been getting together on Thursday nights for 25 years.
The cold, dark days of December and early January were no fun. I was no fun to be around, either.
My wife, Carol, was her wonderful, supportive, warrior self. She was steady when I was weak, not overbearing, but there in the ways that counted.
Our Santa Barbara trip was on the horizon. I shipped our bikes out in advance to my friends at Cal Coast Adventures so the bikes would be ready and waiting when my sister Maureen picked us up at the Santa Barbara airport.
Maureen and my brother-in-law, Dave, were kind enough to let us live with them for February until our rental place was available on March 1, an exceptional kindness, really.
Carol, Dave and I went for a ride that first day. The sun was shining brightly, the ocean was glimmering, the mountains were majestic. Systems and routines returned. Rides were had.
And then came the pandemic. The evolving nature of the situation and the increasingly grim news and outlook didn’t really sink in for most of us, I don’t think, until the first few days of April. Most folks I’ve spoken with feel like the weight of this crisis really hit them in those late March/early April days.
All the more reason to rely on systems and routines to get us through.
For me, continuing to ride my bike keeps me calm and helps me maintain a life rhythm. I’ve set short-term goals for myself like hitting 150,000 feet of cycle climbing for the Santa Barbara trip. I have 15,000 feet to go by the end of May.
Carol and I have our nightly cocktail hour. We share a freshly prepared dinner. Carol is working hard, and we ride together on the weekends and when she has time on weekdays.
We keep the house organized and clean. I discovered many years ago that I did my best work when I had a clean desk. I would remove all extraneous files and paper from my desk before I left for home every evening. It works.
I started using Facebook, a medium I generally abhor, (sorry, Mark Zuckerberg) because it was a good way to keep in touch with family and friends during this lockdown (a begrudging thanks, Mark Zuckerberg).
A friend, Neal, quickly set up a Zoom call (security risks be damned) for the Thursday night group.
Technology, which can be a godsend and a curse, has been a blessing during lockdown for those of us fortunate enough to be able to avail ourselves of this technology, from streaming films to Facetime, Zoom and other social media.
New systems and routines have replaced old ones. Fear lingers and the future is unknown. But life must go on. The pedals must be turned, one revolution at a time.
Stay well. Stick with what works.
