kevinandedel.com
kevinandedel.com
It’s 24 years today since my sister died. She was only 37. Not only is that too young, but it was her second bout of cancer after having it in her 20’s and she was diabetic from the age of 17, so she had her struggles for most of her life. I’m sure she was scared and in pain too, but I don’t ever remember hearing her complain, just quietly fighting. She had her kids young too, so she’d only really found time and opportunity to live a little in the few years before the cancer came back and she didn’t get long when it did. It’s a pitiless disease, it doesn’t care what it does to you, what plans it’s ruining, how much it steals from you or how much life you have left to live, it just takes fun-loving, warm-hearted people like Nola and does its horrible thing to them. Fast-forward those 24 years and my feeling that she and I were the most genetically alike in our family is turning out to be a bit too prophetic for comfort, here I am fighting my own battle against cancer and diabetes. I’m probably a bit luckier, my tumour was more easily operable and diabetes management has come a long way, plus I’ve had the chance to do a lot more living than Nola did, but it’s still the same combination and I still have hurdles to jump before I have the all-clear, if it comes at all. I’m probably also slightly tipping the odds in my favour by being athletic most of my life, but that’s a faint chink of light to look at against the shadow of cancer. The light grows a little brighter when I think about what I can do with it though, when I think that I can shine it the work Diabetes Ireland and The Irish Cancer Society do to support people like my sister and I, and the families affected. Obviously I can’t stop people getting cancer or diabetes and neither can they, but I can do my bit to honour my sister’s memory, to make good use of my time and energy to support their work. With about 25,000 cancer diagnoses in Ireland every year and about 267,000 people living with diabetes, every small bit helps and it’s all vital. I’ll keep running, biking, climbing, racing and whatever else I can do for Project ’24 and I’ll keep being inspired by my sister and anyone else who faces the fear and uncertainty illness brings and battles on anyway. Mind yourselves, Kevin.
Drangajokull
It's been a bad year....and I'd do it again
...then it was going North...
It's been all change around here lately. The lockdowns of 2020/21 were a time and cause for reavaluating where we are and what we want to do as all our big plans frustratingly took a back seat, but left us more time to spend together leading healthier, more balanced lives. That brought us to us to some decisions to make changes and we left careers behind, built a new home, and started on a very different working path as we turned our love of the outdoors into new careers, or maybe just a different way of life, by signing on to a full-time training course as kayaking and climbing instructors while doing our own trips and working on expedition leadership qualifications. Unfortunately in late 2022 that process took a hit as I had to have a cancerous tumour removed and during my recovery I found I had diabetes. Ay caramba! So, our career goals changed again. The outdoor instruction is out the window and we're prioritising our own goals. Training for that has already got back on track after the blip of operations and blood tests and we'll have to give that process a bit of time to bear fruit, but once it does we'll be back to our normal mix of big mountains, small everyday adventures closer to home, remote places, sharing good craic with friends, running ultras, touring as far as we can for now on our bikes and generally being outdoors as much as possible. In the meantime, I've set myself some comeback targets for the next few months. If I can knock out a sub-22 minute 5k, a 100kg bench press, squat 2x my bodyweight, cycle 200km in a day, ski the King's Trail and run the 84km of the Mourne Way Ultra, that should add up to being ready for the next phase of my plans for the mountains. See you out there, Kevin