ATL, here I come

I'm getting excited. In a little more than a month I'll be heading to Atlanta to run the ING Half-Marathon with one of my best friends from college. What makes it even cooler is my other best friend from college will be joining us.

But what makes this cooler still is that, had it not been for some great doctors, my friend's unbelievable spirit and a pro athlete with an inspirational story to tell, this event could have never happened.

That's because just 13 years ago, my friend nearly died.

Sean, my fraternity pledge brother, my cycling partner, my roommate, my bud, was diagnosed with testicular cancer in 1997. I remember the date well because it was the same year I got married. Sean was supposed to be one of my groomsmen. He'd already gone through a few rounds of chemotherapy and radiation, but he was bound and determined to make it to my wedding.

He made it through three pictures.

On our wedding day, the photographer came to Sean and Doug's apartment. (Doug is the other friend who will be joining us in Atlanta. We all roomed together in an off-campus house our senior year in college, and, once my wife and I got married, Sean and Doug still roomed together in the same apartment complex where I lived.) The photographer wanted to get candid shots of us guys getting ready. Once we were all suited up, we stood in a row outside of Doug and Sean's place. There were three shots. In the first, Sean was smiling widely. In the second, his smile had faded. By picture three, the smile was gone.

Sean never made it to the wedding. His sickness made it impossible for him to attend. I know it devastated him.

I have never seen someone so sick in my life. As Sean would often tell us, his doctors needed to treat the cancer agressively, to the point where they nearly killed him. That was by design, he said. The treatment was geared to kill the cancer, and in order to do that they had to nearly kill the patient. It was a tenuous line between life and death that Sean walked for several months.

But a few key elements kept Sean pushing forward. One was his amazing family. Sean's parents dropped everything to come and take care of their only child. That type of unwavering love must have been a beacon for Sean. Another was Sean's health before he got sick. To put it mildly, Sean was an athletic maniac. He had been a member of the Ball State cycling team and his mile splits in runs put mine to shame.

The other element was Lance Armstrong. Yes, THE Lance Armstrong. You're probably familiar with Lance's story, how he battled testicular cancer and came back to win an unprecedented sever Tours de France. Well, Sean had the same cancer, and as a cyclist, he had followed Lance's story as it had unfolded, this just a year or so before Sean was diagnosed. That story gave Sean hope. In fact, Sean ended up having some of the same doctors as Lance from the IU Med Center.

Sean wrote Lance once, when Sean was in the midst of his illness, and Lance took the time to write back. Lance sent a photo, and on the photo he had written, "Sean, Believe in yourself. Believe in your doctors. Believe in the treatment." It wasn't until after Lance's book It's Not About the Bike came out that those words would make more sense. In the book, Lance talks about how he wasn't a particularly religious man, so he found the things that he could count on—namely, himself, his doctors and his treatment. Those words made a difference for Sean, and they did for me, too. To this day, I still wear my Livestrong bracelet proudly. I don't care what people say about Lance Armstrong, about his personal life, his place in history; all I know is that when my friend Sean needed a lifeline, Lance Armstrong was there.

Which brings us to next month and the ING Half-Marathon. Yes, Sean recovered from his cancer but not fully. He still experiences difficulty with his legs and feet. He can't run or ride nearly as fast as he once did. He even told me I could run off by myself down in Atlanta; he didn't want to hold me back.

Are you kidding me? We're running that whole race together, and we're going to have a great time. We're going to soak in the scenery and enjoy the whole experience of it all. We're going to relive college memories and make some new ones along the way.

And it's gonna be awesome.

Happy running.