The Rewards of Invincibility

When I was five, I found myself running upstairs though quite often coughing, digging through my drawers and throwing on my short-sleeved royal blue Superman shirt and a red cape with Velcro straps that I would hook around my neck. I would then dart to the top of the stairs with my arms raised as if I could fly anywhere at anytime and my cough while obvious to those around me was insignificant during those episodes because my focus was my feeling of invincibility. The title of "Superman" gave me that feeling of strength and determination that so often cystic fibrosis tried to take away.



I felt a bond with Superman early on...

Around the age of eight, I opened up an encyclopedia to learn that people with cystic fibrosis don't normally live to the age of 25. At least that's how it was in the early eighties. I was devastated. I went from a feeling of invincibility to extremely vulnerability. I was not Superman. It was around that time that I stopped digging through my drawers to find the cape and ceased from raising my arms around the house because it just didn't seem to matter anymore. Superman was immortal. I, on the other hand, had less than two decades of mortality left.



The cape disappeared; was my desire next?

As I grew up, I learned that Superman was less about wearing a cape and an "S" on my chest and more of a feeling of hope and positivity. Invincibility, while a bit unrealistic, was probably healthy for someone like me. Why couldn't I beat cystic fibrosis? Why couldn't I challenge the stereotypes and the statistics? Why did I have to be okay with dying young?

It was around this time that I traded a cape and Superman shirt for athletic shoes and wristbands. I was learning to do something that cystic fibrosis was not supposed to "allow" me to do and that was RUNNING!

Granted, there were roadblocks along the way both mentally and physically as I would spit mucus with most steps and have to take breaks for coughing spasms but I did not quit. In 1997, I was able to run my first Peachtree Road Race, the largest 10 kilometer race in the United States. As a runner, I had to work a lot harder to get to where I needed to be than most people but I thrived at that. Over my 43 years on this earth, I have battled negative statistics that said I would never live to have children or grow grey hair because of my cystic fibrosis.

I suppose that I could make things easier on myself by accepting the role of Clark Kent but running taught me that being Superman is so much more fun. I have had people over the years tell me to make it easy on myself and turn it down a notch and while not at my peak health recently, I began to accept that. Maybe Clark Kent was who I was always supposed to be.

Well, you know what, that's a lot of BS!

I have lived 43 plus years with a daily routine of multiple therapies, copious amounts of pills and more vitamins than a local CVS and "easy" has not once had the decency to come visit me.

Why do I need to accept the role of Clark Kent? Why do I need less pressure? Why can't I be Superman?"

Having a chronic disease is a different beast. You can't ever be complacent. You can't accept "pretty good." You can't accept a new baseline because you're getting older. You have to be the best. So for now on, I proudly accept the moniker of Superman. I owe it to my five year old self and I owe it to my children to teach them that society's version of "status quo" does not have to cut it.

Being overly competitive has been a curse in that my mind is often filled with havoc; however, there is no doubt that the same aggressiveness and fierceness has kept me alive. I can't afford to abandon that mindset.



Perhaps a cape is just as important as a nebulizer for someone like me...

I can't look my children in the eyes knowing that I have accepted complacency over invincibility. How can I tell them to do their best in the classroom or on the field if I don't do it in the gym or in the doctor's office? I can't and I won't.

Some would say I'm insane to believe that I'm invincible but most would have said the same if I told them I would be living and breathing on this earth at the age of 43 with two children, several patches of grey and a workout routine that most people without CF could not handle.

So today marks my 21st consecutive year running the Peachtree Road Race. Today is supposed to be one of the most humid days in memory and my lungs are not quite where they need to me.

Clark Kent would not run this race.

I will.



It's time to teach them the lessons of invincibility.

I don't need a cape, an "S" on my chest or to stand at the stop of my steps with my hands raised to prove that I am Superman.

It's all about attitude...but a nebulizer and Superman headband never hurt anyone, right?



The 5 year old would be proud!

Live your dreams and love your life!

Andy