In December 2021, my older sister Tiffany chose to fight for her life after a devastating ovarian cancer diagnosis at the age of 42. After undergoing several grueling rounds of chemo and a life-saving surgery to remove the tumor (aka Barry, as my sister hilarious named it), she was told by her medical team in May 2022 that she was in remission. While Chris and Tiffany celebrated this moment with loved ones on their 10th wedding anniversary, just five months of remission ended when the my sister had learned that the cancer had returned. CT scans showed that it was in her lower intestinal wall and CA-125 blood tests were alarmingly high, suggesting that it was far more aggressive this time.

A year later and several procedures in, including two forms of chemo, my sister's life changed as Barry tried to take everything from her and those that love her. She had been in and out of the hospital nearly every month since the cancer returned, refusing to give up as Barry tried to steal her life. Heartbreakingly, it was not long after this news that we all learned that the various treatments and procedures my sister was doing to live a full life were having little to no effect. Tiff's medical team informed her that her condition was terminal. She was presented with two options: enter hospice where her comfort would be prioritized or try returning to the original chemo treatment that gave her five months of remission, all in the hopes of having just a little more time.

My sister chose to begin chemo again, hoping that it would keep the cancer at bay and allow her more time to create memories with the things and people she loved most in this world. It was not a cure, but it was something. Tiff wanted to spend more time with her husband Chris, with her family, and with the chosen family she had in her friends. She wanted to be able to ride her horse Chip some more and get wet nose boops from her 140lbs Great Dane pup, Quin. Tiff wanted to travel, even if that meant just a camping trip a couple hours away, and take in the beauty that she somehow continued to see even when faced with the reality of a terminal illness.

Thankfully, Tiff's choice to use chemo treatments to give her a little more time on this Earth worked. We were all gifted a couple more months with her that I do not believe she would have had otherwise. I am so thankful for that time and for the ability to have been able to make memories with her over those last couple months. We all are. I am also deeply heartbroken that, in March 2024, her body was left weakened after developing COVID and she was taken to the hospital. My sister had already been through more than anyone deserved and she was tired. Tired of constant hospital admissions, of the continuous pain, and of not being able to return to the life she hoped would be waiting for her.

After a couple weeks in the hospital, she had stabilized enough to be released as spring had begun and went back to the comfort of her home in April. She did so with the intent of entering hospice and seemed to feel comfort in knowing she could remain at her home, surrounded by her husband and critters that loved her so much. A couple weeks since being discharged, my sister made the official decision to enter hospice. The reality of this decision was devastating, while also seeming to be a decision that brought Tiff peace. She wanted respite after so many years of trying to come out the otherside healthy. We were all devastated by this choice and, myself personally, tried to take comfort in the thought that this allowed her the most autonomy from a disease that had all but taken her ability to make her own choices. On May 10th, 2024, Tiff passed away. She was surrounded by those who loved her and wished her to finally have the peace she not only wished for, but so deserved.

No one should have to be as strong as my sister had to be. No one should have to fight so hard for the hope of having a future, let alone for just a little more time to experience the world. A few days before she passed, I remember Tiff tearfully telling me that she hoped something positive could come from her pain. That she wished for her memory to live on not just in those who cherished the remarkable human being she was and is, but also in a way that could help those who were trying to navigate a similar reality with cancer. For this reason, I have partnered with St. Luke's to raise as much as possible for their Oncology department through my participation in the St. Luke's D&L Marathon. Set to take place on November 10th, 2024, I will be checking off my fourth marathon with this one and doing so just a month after finishing my third Chicago Marathon.

Before my sisters illness, my motivation for running was solely for my own mental health and for the sense of strength gained from tacking on the miles. With my sisters diagnosis and passing, she became my motivation. I run because Barry took away my sisters ability to do all the activities that brought her joy and and sense of belonging in this world - hiking, horseback riding, gardening. I run because I am lucky enough to have a body that allows me to do so, knowing full well that there are many who do not and wish they could. And I run in hopes that my sister is with me, in spirit, for every step.

I hope you and those you know will help me in remembering the beauty that is my sister Tiffany. With an ambitious goal set at $15,000 for St. Luke's, my desire is to be able to give as much as possible to them so that they can help as many as possible. No amount is too small and every small movement forward helps. I thank you all, regardless of if you knew my sister personally or not, for your help in making my sister's wish to help others diagnosed with cancer a reality.