Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma (MM4MM) is a collaboration between CURE Media Group and the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation to raise awareness

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As the Mt. Kilimanjaro team climbs this week, I am on the sidelines cheering them on, applauding, grateful for this team, the MM4MM organization, these incredible people and their commitment. And couldn’t be more proud of these patients, caregivers, professionals and loved ones who committed to make this happen. Those who raise funds ARE making a difference!

The progress MMRF has made by funding critical research with their precision medicine model is making all the difference for patients like me. Myeloma is a cunning disease. Myeloma is different for different patients…and different throughout time in the 

 patient as time goes on. Precision medicine (or personalized medicine) means that soon each patient can get the right drug at the right time based on his or her genetic makeup. With research like this, new drugs to market and organizations like the three MM4MM partners to FIGHT this disease, we can find cures.

This progress is 

 for me. I am a 10-year survivor and was privileged to be part of the Machu Picchu team last August. Together, we climbed, one foot in front of the other, making lasting friendships and making a difference. The work of the MMRF, the continued commitment of people like this Mt. Kilimanjaro MM4MM team and partnerships like this one with Takeda Oncology and CURE are the reasons I am LIVING my life with this cancer. Dollars, research and drugs that are the HOPE for patients like me, empowered to know research is working, new drugs are allowing us to live longer, and to live with possibilities we didn’t think possible only a few years ago. 

And since my hike, I am back in the fight. Actively moving my mountain each week, as I undergo treatment to kick this disease back into remission. Moving my mountain with possibilities that weren’t available when I was diagnosed some 10 years ago. Triplet therapies, one of many new combinations of drugs used to now treat this nasty disease. Possibilities to be inspired, to move mountains, to hope for a future where the flames refused to be extinguished and we all honor the resiliency of the human spirit.

So Mt. Kili team: Climb that mountain! Because you CAN, because you ARE, and because you are doing it, one step at a time, and together as a team. For the patients, their families, the team and others on the sidelines cheering you on from all corners of the world, don’t quit, reach that summit and know you are making a difference!

Go Team Kili 2017!

What an incredible experience Machu Picchu was this summer! My hike to celebrate my journey of 10 years, LIVING with multiple myeloma. The sights, the people, the relationships and the connections I found to into the myeloma community have been amazing. The hike has impacted me as a patient, finding a new community of others who are passionate, are caring, and are committed to the cure through the MMRF. The grace, determination and the efforts of this group amaze me as I learn more about the programs, the research, the fundraising and the people.

Since I returned back from Peru over a month ago, I have learned that I am back in “Prime Time” in fighting my disease as the next step in my journey. The biggest part of me is influenced with gratitude for LIVING with disease these past 10 years. And the intriguing part for me now, as I take new aim at my personal fight, is how much has changed on the landscape of treatments, drugs and therapies. And while I hate the part of beginning a new battle ground, I am empowered with knowledge, and choices and research that are making a difference, today, for me. In this fight against Multiple Myeloma. And for that I am grateful.

I attended a MMRF Patient Summit in Chicago in September not only to share my story, but to connect with professionals, doctors and researchers who have the latest and most up to date knowledge about this disease, that currently has no cure. I connected with others who chatted with me, made recommendations and shared their insight. I found terrific resources available through the MMRF for me discussing treatment options, therapies, drugs, and clinical trials, new drugs on the market and current information.

All of this has allowed me to gain valuable knowledge to be my own advocate, asking questions to know which treatments might fit my disease and lifestyle best. All of this, because of a 10 year celebration living with disease, because of a personal Victory Lap, because of a Mountain to Climb in Peru. Because of people who care deeply about finding a cure.

When I was diagnosed at the age of 42 years old with MM, the average life expectancy for people like me was five to seven years. A game changer for me. Since then, I am living PROOF, that RESEARCH is the game changer in this disease. Partnerships like that of MMRF, Takeda Oncology, CURE Magazine and others make a difference for people like me. Having cancer allows me to live my life with intention, to not let the little things in life derail me (most days) from what’s important. Because, I know with me, I want to 

 my life with cancer, not have cancer and live my life.

After 10 years of survivorship, Cindi discusses what the climb meant to her.

Off the Mountain, Back to Life

The Incans surely must have been a physically powerful people, methodically quarrying various types of stone, intending each for a specific purpose, moving boulders across valleys, hoisting, hauling, honing and perfectly fitting them with bare hands and scant tools. Fervent, thousands of citizens cycled in and out of public service to fashion buildings and structures across vast massifs and staggeringly varied altitudes. In this realm of gold, of worship, of function over form, of glowing tapestries that, to this day, weave a resolute sense of commitment and belonging, how strong were Incans in the face of death? They were steeped in their religious practices and perhaps profoundly comforted in their belief that they were Inti, children not of a lesser god, but of the highest and seemingly strongest of their many gods: the Sun, itself.

Did this somehow inform their philosophy on death and the loss of loved ones in ways that made them more capable than us mere, modern tourists to process the shock, the grief and most importantly, the healing? As I neared the end of the Incan Trail and scrambled up a steep, leaning wall to reach the Sun Gate, I beheld Machu Picchu from above. Wondrous, the site is framed by elevated plateaus and towering peaks that both adorn and gaze down upon them. An endless, encompassing range of mountains seems to have roiled toward the citadel’s location and yet relented and settled into an idyllic tableau knowing it would someday serve as its perfect frame. Maybe the Peruvian Andes themselves, or the gods the Incans believed to have inhabited each mountain, chose to surround the plateau to create Nature’s theatre in the round. The Incans must have known that a sense of place is at the core of humanity.

My sister was not with me. I continued to stare at the citadel, consciously repeating its beauty over and again. I felt neither my sister’s presence, nor my mother’s. I lost them along with my grandfather and aunt to cancer. Mom was 46. My sister was 45. Earlier this year, I was with my father, who had a lobectomy owing to adenocarcinoma. Cancer has ravaged my family. I climbed Machu Picchu for them, for my close family friends, and for people I will never meet. I climbed because I was thrilled to join a courageous group of multiple myeloma patients and their caregivers, physicians, nurses, clinical trial managers and others on a mission to climb and raise funds for the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation (MMRF). I climbed for the MMRF because of their remarkable track record and fiscal responsibility, which ensures that 90 percent of every donation funds actual research. I climbed with the MMRF, 

 and Takeda Oncology as part of this program, Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma.

I even looked like an actual climber because of the bright orange gear, a sea of us winding, sometimes trundling on the serpentine Incan Trail with a professional camera crew that documented our journey. I climbed to raise awareness about a disease that people often confuse with skin cancer and other maladies. I climbed with extraordinary, funny, intelligent, accomplished, open, kind, and generous people, many of whom have painful, yet somehow hopeful relationships with cancer. Certainly Takeda and the MMRF are among a few key players responsible for fueling that hope with palpable progress against what was once an almost immediately terminal illness. Many, as it turns out, were on this journey for their own healing. But the stones still perfectly placed after centuries leave much a mystery, including how the Incans healed from loss. We can climb up well higher, up into the glaciers and still return without knowing.

Marvelous are the patients who defy their disease, reclaim their power and inspire us to new adventures. It did not occur to me to climb for myself. Nor did it occur to me that everything we think and do can change us, even if only slightly. They taught me all of this, as I learned that mountains can move you too.

The Incans surely must have been a physically powerful people, methodically quarrying various types of stone, intending each for a specific purpose, moving boulders across valleys, hoisting, hauling, honing and perfectly fitting them with bare hands and scant tools

Sea of Orange, Sky of Gods

I have had the pleasure and privilege of being part of Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma from the beginning.

While climbing Kilimanjaro was breathtaking, with its five ecosystems, hiking the Grand Canyon was awe-inspiring and majestic. Next week, we will climb Machu Picchu — a place that few humans have visited.

As amazing as these places are, it is the people on the Moving Mountains teams that inspire us and give us hope!

These teams are comprised of patients, caregivers, those that have lost loved ones to this disease and supporters. Never in my life have I seen so much dedication, hope, love, kindness, determination, laughter and inspiration.

While there have been great advances in recent years for myeloma treatment, we have a long way to go. This year, we will have raised close to $500,000 for the MMRF on these three climbs.

One day soon, we hope a cure is found for myeloma and all cancers. So as I prepare for Machu Picchu, I hope patients and caregivers will be given more time — that non-renewable resource!

“It takes a village.”

I have had the pleasure and privilege of being part of Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma from the beginning.

Time Is a Non-Renewable Resource

Being part of Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma team this year has been the honor of a lifetime. We traveled to some of the most awe-inspiring places in the world and climbed to heights of over 19,000 feet. Mount Kilimanjaro, the Grand Canyon and Machu Picchu are among the most beautiful places I have ever seen, though as a reflect back on these treks, the real beauty lies in the people I met and the human spirit.

We came from all walks of life, connected by our desire to cure multiple myeloma. I have never seen more dedication, hope, strength, love and compassion.

The mountain that moved us all is cancer, these patients and caregvers did not do these climbs to check off a bucket list item, they did not do it for recognition. They did it to raise over $500,000 for the MMRF, an organization which has been involved in the last 10 FDA-approved drugs to treat multiple myeloma. Yes, patients are living longer and have a better quality of life, but there is still no cure and therefore we must keep raising money and awareness for this intolerable disease.

The human spirit is what drove us all up these massive mountains and canyons as a team. We all wanted to make it to the top, but more importantly, we all wanted to see everyone make it to the top.

Perhaps Machu Picchu is an analogy for cancer research: It took years and thousands of people to complete a seemingly impossible task. Their strongest machine back then was the human spirit. That, combined with cutting-edge science and research, is how we will beat this disease. It will take a village to cure multiple myeloma. No one person or company can do it alone.

The human spirit is a force to be reckoned with!

It will take a village to cure multiple myeloma. No one person or company can do it alone.

The Human Spirit

In 2016, we launched Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma, a partnership between Takeda Oncology, 

 Magazine and the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation (MMRF). The idea was simple: to create teams that represent a microcosm of the myeloma community – patients, caregivers, myeloma doctors and nurses, and others who have lost a loved one to myeloma – and take on epic treks to raise funds and awareness for multiple myeloma research

In just one year, we have climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, the tallest freestanding mountain in the world, the Grand Canyon and the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, raising close to $500,000. We have produced three videos sharing these incredibly inspirational stories. We have told the personal stories of our 45 team members on blogs, and created much media attention via TV, magazines, newspapers and social media. And, we have created three amazing and incredibly powerful experiences for the participants as well as for the thousands who have followed our journeys.

We’ve seen 11 patients take on physical challenges that they could only have dreamed of at diagnosis. We’ve seen doctors, nurses and clinicians walk side by side with patients, reminding them, step-by-step, how significant their work is in the lives of patients and their families. We’ve seen loved ones give it their all to honor a loved one who is battling myeloma - or to remember one who has lost their fight. We’ve seen 3 different Takeda employees join each of our climbs, and benefit from experiencing first hand a view of how their work impacts so many. We’ve had the opportunity to have the Director of Patient Education at 

 Magazine, largest cancer patient publication in the United State join the three 2016 climbs, all the while chronicling these amazing stories of determination, courage and commitment.



 We are ready to bring on new teams to reprise a couple of our 2016 trips, and then we will reach new parts of the world and to take on new challenges. All of this is a metaphor for the global reach of our impact.

In 2017, we will see another team of MM4MM climbers, including six myeloma patients tackle Mt. Kilimanjaro’s 19,341 feet once again. In May, a group of 12 will take on the depths and heights of the majestic Grand Canyon. In July, 18 MM4MM hikers will climb Japan’s iconic Mt. Fuji, a bucket list challenge for certain, and a nod to our partner, Japan-based Takeda. We are also selecting our team now for an incredibly epic and exciting adventure: a hike through the Himalayan peaks to Everest Base Camp and just beyond to Kala Pathhar, where our team members will get a glimpse of mighty Mt. Everest.

Climbing mountains and canyons will not cure cancer. But research will. And research takes money. An outstanding 90 percent of all funds raised through Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma go directly to myeloma research. We can’t cure cancer, but we can climb mountains!

We must be bold. We must get outside of our comfort zone. We must do that which others only dream of. We must ask our circle of support to help us in this important work. We are part of something extraordinary. We hope you will join us in 2017 and beyond.



Our teams are forming now. To learn more and sign up to be considered for one of our teams, visit

Be Part of Our Epic Journeys -- and Our Progress

There were many feelings that flooded my mind when my husband Sanjoy and I were included to be part of the team — elated, excited, grateful at the same time! I felt doubts that I could meet the challenges that I would face when doing the trek at Machu Picchu!

When I saw the ruins come into view, I was full of emotions! I was in tears, both feeling incredulous joy and a spiritual sense of oneness with the place. It took my breath away!

Being in Machu Picchu, surrounded by the mountains, embraced by their beauty, their vastness and their majestic power made a strong impression on my life experience.

It was great fun being with the team and I had a wonderful time getting to know some of them. I felt well taken care of whenever I needed help! Angels in hiking boots!

Moving mountains is like moving myself to meet new challenges I have never knew existed. Taking this trek to Machu Picchu to help raise more awareness and find a cure for multiple myeloma is like moving mountains.

Thank you so much to everyone who wsa part of the team and for those who organized the trip. You made our experience so unforgettable!



There were many feelings that flooded my mind when my husband Sanjoy and I were included to be part of the team — elated, excited, grateful at the same time! 

 A Strong Impression

“It isn't the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it's the pebble in your shoe.” - Muhammad Ali



I heard this quote while viewing one of the stories of Muhammad Ali’s life. It’s a quote that stayed with me as I prepared for this trip. So many times in life we focus on the “mountain,” but what really needs the most attention is the “pebble” that we step on every day. Getting ready for this trip became a lesson in taking care of the pebble. I was excited to take part in this, but I had not done fundraising like this, nor was I even close to being in proper shape physically. The whole concept of hiking the Inca trail was, to me, a “mountain.” The thoughts of both raising money and training, at first, stressed me out. I had no idea what I was doing or what to expect. I imagined the overwhelming sense I felt about what was in front of me might be just a very small piece (emphasis on small) of what it’s like to be diagnosed with something as life-changing such as multiple myeloma.

Figuring out the best plan forward became a process of researching all aspects of what is going to transpire. During that process of getting ready, it gave me a sense of control which helped remove any doubts or anxiety I may have had. It was up to me to remove the pebble from my shoe. I had played sports growing up and raced mountain bikes years ago, so I had a sense of what to do physically and mentally, but I was older now and things seemed different. Rather than dig into the fundraising and the training as I might have done in my younger days, I decided to embrace each and have as much fun as possible along the way. My competitive spirit was coming alive again and I remembered a poem that hung in the wrestling room when I was a kid. I had memorized it then and was surprised that I could recall it this may years later. It set the tone for everything going forward.



“I will persist until I succeed. I was not delivered into this world in defeat, nor does failure course in my veins. I am not a sheep waiting to be prodded by my shepherd. I am a lion and I refuse to talk, to walk, to sleep with the sheep. The slaughterhouse of failure is not my destiny. I will persist until I succeed.” - Og Mandino



The preparation has been a journey that is now down to the final days. It is more a mental process now than a physical one. The funds have been raised and over 500 miles of hikes have been completed. Now I am in a beautiful country whose language I do not speak. Facing the “mountain” of hike day is now upon me. Everything I’ve done to this point was to get ready to do this adventure. I’m coming together with a team where most everyone was a complete stranger 8 months ago. I did my part — to be as ready as possible to support my team. The excitement of everyone coming together, exploring a new country where it is winter time in August, and sentiments of why we are all here is almost as overwhelming as the first time this opportunity presented itself. Being a part of this team is an honor and just like the preparation to get here, it’s about enjoying the process.

As I reflect on how I got here, I recall meeting a gentleman who had endured many afflictions during his life, including alcoholism, which left him partially crippled and bound to a wheel chair. He left with me with a very powerful quote. He said this defined the turning point of his life and gave him the strength to remove the pebble from his shoe.



“You may have a disease from which there is no cure, but you can choose to heal from that very disease.”



To my teammates, to all those who supported me, and in honor of those who have to wake up with this disease every day, this one is for you!

This One's For You

It's amazing to think that our big hike is now behind us and that after months of training, we were able to conquer this particular mountain. Our mountain. Of course, it was done with help from our knowledgeable guides!

Thinking about Klaas' journey — from when he was first diagnosed to present day — and seeing how physically fit he is, I'm amazed at how far we've come. He was not only able to hike the Inca trail, but he also carried a heavy backpack and was able to provide support to other team members. It's truly remarkable to me how the body can heal despite how much pain and suffering it's endured. Seeing this in the flesh reminded me, and will continue to remind me, of what a miracle life truly is.

In talking with Cindi, she reminded me that all things — no matter how small — make a difference, and how important having a strong support system is. She found strength in herself and in the people around her to take her battle against myeloma head on. I'm so proud of her big victory. Plus, wherever she's off to, if she doesn't have her direct support system with her, all she has to do is look in her bag and find her international traveling buddy, Wilson.

This experience has taught me an array of things, but one thing in particular stands out to me. Like Jeff said, it takes a lot of hands on rocks to move them up mountains to create the beauty that is Machu Picchu. It's the same for cancer research: It takes a lot of hands and hearts to eventually beat this disease and find a cure. This experience has taught me that people are capable of much more than they think, both physically and mentally. With the help of our family and friends — no matter how big or small — we can work towards a cure.

Now that I'm back from Peru, I'm getting back to my daily routine, but I can't help but smile when I think of the moments we spent together. Seeing Evelyn's face as she turned the corner and the beautiful view of Machu Picchu appeared below us was indescribable. Her smile was radiant. I am beyond grateful that she was finally able to check Machu Picchu off her bucket list.

In these moments — in helping patients achieve their milestones — is when I remember why I chose this profession. It was an incredible honor for me to hike Machu Picchu with patients, their caregivers and other myeloma supporters. I have to thank my colleagues, Takeda, CURE and the MMRF for giving me that privilege. I will always remember this trip as a truly special one.

It's amazing to think that our big hike is now behind us and that after months of training, we were able to conquer this particular mountain

The Lasting Impact of the Climb

It’s now been about six weeks since my wife and I returned from our trip to Machu Picchu as part of the Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma program. While on the trip, I often had the feeling of being overwhelmed — overwhelmed with the idea that I was in the Andes Mountains in Peru, overwhelmed that the Incans were able to create such magnificent structures with little more than determination and willpower and overwhelmed that all these people that were with me on this journey would do something so extreme, just to help make me better and get us closer to a cure for my disease.

That same sense of being overwhelmed returned a couple of weekends ago when I attended a patient summit in Oak Brook, Illinois, put on by the MMRF. I was so grateful to reunite with three of my tripmates, Dr. Jeff Zonder and his wife Silva (who is also a program coordinator for the Hematology-Oncology program at Barbara Ann Karmanos Cancer Institute), and my dear friend and fellow patient, Cindi McNair. As the program began, the coordinator asked the audience how many people in the audience were patients; nearly half of the people raised their hands. It was at this moment that I truly realized a couple of things: I have a lot of brothers and sisters who also have this illness and there are a lot of wonderful people who care deeply about finding a cure.

Patients with cancer — and particularly a patient of a rare type of cancer such as multiple myeloma — are part of a family that others may sympathize with, but cannot truly join. However, our Peru trip and the MMRF Patient Summit opened my eyes to the level of commitment and dedication exhibited by the caregivers, researchers, advocates and medical professionals who fight alongside us in our quest for a cure. I think this helps explain why, even though there are thousands who suffer from this disease, I feel like the considerable effort put forth toward finding a cure is truly for me. And for this, I cannot express my level of gratitude.

It’s now been about six weeks since my wife and I returned from our trip to Machu Picchu as part of the Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma program.

Overwhelmed

It has been about a week since I have been back and many people have been asking how it was. Hiking Machu Picchu was an indescribable experience and I still struggle to find the right words to paint the picturesque scenery and the emotions that I experienced. To be able to witness the immense strengths that everyone had — especially the patients and their caregivers — throughout the seven hour hike created an unspoken comradery between us. There were a lot of words of encouragement and great support that really helped each other conquer the “crying stairs” to reach the end of the hike. To echo Dr. Zonder, if someone was walking by, they would not have been able to distinguish who was a patient or not. We were simply just a group of friends hiking.

For me, having the opportunity to share stories, conversations, bottles of wine (thanks John, Cindi and Melissa), tears and jokes (mostly from Michael) with everyone — especially the patients and caregivers — these are the things I will always remember. The journey also has confirmed that I made the right decision in choosing this profession. It has given me more motivation to keep pushing the research forward as each clinical trial and each patient means we are one step closer to understanding and finding the cure for myeloma.

I would like to thank everyone, especially the MMRF, Takeda and CURE for making this a memorable and meaningful trip.

It has been about a week since I have been back and many people have been asking how it was.

Motivation to Push Forward

In the last 10 years, there has been so much incredible progress in treating multiple myeloma. During that time, there have been 

 approved by the FDA for patients, and there are dozens of promising clinical trials in the pipeline. In the last decade, the lifespan of patients with myeloma has tripled and quality of life for patients has improved dramatically.

So why do we need to raise awareness for blood cancers and multiple myeloma? 

Because while there has been so much progress, there still is no cure.



September is Blood Cancer Awareness Month and we ask you to help us continue to keep multiple myeloma and other blood cancers high profile so that the public is aware of the critical need to continue to fund blood cancer research.

The partnership between the MMRF, Takeda and CURE Magazine via Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma has helped raise awareness through our media efforts. As we wrap up this year’s third climb in the Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma program, we are so proud of the substantial reach that we have had with our message: A message of inspiration, empowerment, progress and the need to continue efforts to find a cure.

Through our three climbs, Mount Kilimanjaro in January, the Grand Canyon in May and most recently, the Inca Trail trek to Machu Picchu, we have raised global awareness about multiple myeloma and the progress that has been made.

We’ve had 50 MM4MM team members — including 11 patients, two doctors, two nurses, two clinical trials administrators, a scientist from Takeda Oncology and so many caregivers — generate TV, magazine and newspaper coverage, write blogs and blast out thousands of social media posts globally.

Please help us continue of our awareness efforts. Please help us by reaching out to your networks and share about the incredible work being done by so many to help find cures to blood cancers. We can’t stop until there is a cure.

In the last 10 years, there has been so much incredible progress in treating multiple myeloma. During that time, there have been ten new drug therapies approved by the FDA for patients, and there are dozens of promising clinical trials in the pipeline. 

September Is Blood Cancer Awareness Month: What Can YOU Do?

As I sort through the many photos taken, I enjoy reliving the incredible hike up to Machu Picchu. I was joined by a colorful cast of characters with all different backgrounds, each participating for their own individual reasons but brought together by the mission of raising awareness and funding for research of multiple myeloma. The trip and the people have left a deep impression on me.

In June of 2013, I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma. I think it’s surprisingly easy to adapt to this kind of news. After all, while I’m not going to deny its personal significance — it didn’t really change anything too fundamentally. I consider this now an extension of who I am. In my world, having cancer is not so much a fight or battle, but a symbiosis of how I can live with my disease fluently and positively day in and day out. During the beginning of our MM journey, we were fortunate to have helping hands from family, friends and acquaintances alike — whether meals were delivered, our girls were taken for a long weekends and a stream of good deeds. And yes, it made all the difference in the world to us and left a branded impression to always exercise benevolence towards others.

I must admit, there were a few drawbacks living with MM, in my case, largely a lack of movement. After the surgeries on my spine, I had to gain back functional movement and strength. I learned and found that these problems start to sort themselves out after a while.

After training and preparing for the hike, I arrived following a busy week at work with basically no expectations of what awaited us in Peru ... except to stay hydrated. I did, however, arrive into this journey truly humbled and touched by the overwhelming support we received as we fundraised for the MMRF. I loved the mission to team up, build awareness and help fund research towards cure and hike to experience a wonder of the world. I felt great purpose to witness and explore how an Incan mountain kingdom was built by hand some 620 years ago in the 1400s and have it standing in pretty perfect condition today.

I enjoy the collage of images from the trip whether it’s how approachable and truly compassionate Dr. Z and Silva are to patients and everyone surrounding them, Melissa, who supports her friend Cyndi celebrating 10 years of life after her early MM prognosis; Shawn, who is serious about raising the bar for global MM awareness and pharmaceutical research; Michael, who needs to be on Comedy Central or run for office; Amy and Jeff, who define being super troopers; the Mount Sinai medical team plus Nyron, who are not only the best practitioners/researchers but helped us feel nostalgically fun again; the MMRF team, that roar to make a difference; Paul who wins best geared and most certainly best researched; Marty from CURE, who climbs mountains in a single bound and helps others find footing; Evelyn and Sanjoy, who are fulfilling their life dream; the very talented Ben and John, who aim precisely and are powerful directors; Alicia, our beloved ‘talk the talk but you must walk the walk’ leader; and Anne and Robert, who we feel blessed to have met as their relentless goal to raise MMRF funds and awareness is inspirational to us. While there is a definite and positive clinical aspect of being involved with the MMRF, the humanity that was so evident within our team helped us defy the gravity of the trek and all of the personal moments shared touched me in an everlasting way. I find myself often reflecting on the writer Per Olov Enquist’s wise comment: “One day we shall die. But all the other days we shall be alive.” This has become my mantra — one that I hope to heed daily as I embrace joys and challenges each and every day. Cancer research requires large amounts of funding. The donations made by individuals and companies play an important part for medical research until the goal of a cure is achieved. I don't know what could have happened to me and countless others had it not been for this level of advanced research.

I come back to the stream of endless photos, happy to know that there is a community of strong individuals that work towards making a difference — a community that I can now call my friends. It’s been three years since my diagnosis and I am feeling healthy and happy that we made the trek to celebrate living with a disease that I hope we can, in some way, conquer one day.



As I sort through the many photos taken, I enjoy reliving the incredible hike up to Machu Picchu.

When Things Come Together

I open one eye and blink towards the blue illuminated numbers showing 5:50 a.m. With a stretch, I roll over and slip one foot on the floor, gently sliding out of bed. I dress in the dark, tip-toe past my husband, and quietly close the bedroom door behind me. Next, I creep past the dog in his kennel (who doesn’t miss a thing), giving me a quiet whimper-yawn as I sneak out the front door to my bike locked up on the front porch. It feels like it must be nearly 80 degrees and the humidity seems 90 percent as I swing my leg over my bike and roll down the driveway to begin my ride. Still sleepy, and with a yawn, I whisper “Thank you God” as I get myself ready to bike some hills, pump my legs and get my heart racing for six to seven miles of bike trails.

They say it takes the benefits of regular exercise for six to eight weeks to appear, and the investment in your health will be invaluable. I do feel stronger, and my husband even says I move like I’m stronger, as I’ve been doing this now for over six weeks now. Thank you God. A lot of people would be looking at this as terrific progress in creating a healthy habit of morning exercise, but to be honest, I am counting the days until I can quit! Walking and yoga are much more my style for sure.

But I am in training, getting ready for my personal Super Bowl if you will, because in less than a month I will be hiking the Inca Trail up Machu Picchu in Peru with a team of 20 people, most of whom I’ve never met. So I’m doing my best to get this bod in shape, as the better shape I’m in, the more I will enjoy the trek up 11,000 feet in the Andes Mountains to one of the most incredible places on earth. The hike is quite a reach for me. I’m not a hiker (haven’t hiked in 30 years since high school!) and I’m really not a biker (not since college when I peddled around 40 hours a week as a bike cop --OK bike patrol is the right language -- for two summers.)

But this is like a victory lap I am excited to be working toward. See I am a survivor, and this year I am celebrating a big victory. And as I pondered a way to celebrate, or give back, and be thankful, I became aware of an opportunity to raise funds and awareness for multiple myeloma (a blood cancer) through a program called Moving Mountains for Myelmona (MM4MM), through Takeda Oncology. As I learned about the opportunity, it seemed surreal that I could hike one of the most celebrated places on Earth to benefit others with cancer! The team consists of multiple myeloma patients, caregivers, doctors, nurses and researchers who have come together to raise funds and awareness for research.

Ten years ago this October I had a stem cell transplant for multiple myeloma with the life expectancy at the time of five to seven years. I remember making the decision to take on this hike (and certainly jump out of my box) in January, being able to raise funds and awareness as I trained for the journey. It wasn’t really about the hike or about the mountain or even about this beautiful place, but rather a way to celebrate these 10 amazing and remarkable years of LIVING. Thank you God! Since then I’ve been climbing my own “mountain,” every day, one step after another, just keeping on keeping on -- working through remission, and relapse, and chemo drugs, pushing through the physical burdens to take another breath and appreciate the gift of every day's “view.”

So as I train and climb my mountain, I have so much to be thankful for, EVERY DAY. Having cancer allows me to live my life with intention, to not let the little things in life derail me (most days!) from what’s important. My gratitude builds as I train for my climb. And I’m counting the days to getting back to walking and yoga! Thank you God!

I open one eye and blink towards the blue illuminated numbers showing 5:50 a.m. With a stretch, I roll over and slip one foot on the floor, gently sliding out of bed.  I dress in the dark, tip-toe past my husband, and quietly close the bedroom door behind me...

Thankful for Mountains

In and out of the blazing sun and cool, dark rainforest, we are trekking to an Incan city carved into a mountaintop. Our feet will take us on a 3,200-foot vertical climb over 11 miles in eight hours.

We are taking the last of our 28,000 steps on the trail. The cliff-hanging, cling-to-the-mountain part of our hike has passed, when we wondered if one misstep might have been our last. The last 30 minutes have been quiet, reflective and apprehensive. Our team has trained and raised funds for over six months for this moment. This team is comprised of one doctor, two nurses, two oncology coordinators, four patients, a Takeda representative and others connected to multiple myeloma, including my husband and me who lost my sister to the disease in 2012. We are all ages and skill levels, brought together by a common goal: to celebrate life and contribute to new discoveries in the field of cancer research. Like Hiram Bingham, we are on a quest, powerfully motivated and uniquely personal. We have our own reasons for raising the funds for cancer research. But today, we step together. Together we have raised both $150,000 and immeasurable public awareness. We are reminded of the seemingly inconsequential gesture of the young Andean boy who took Bingham by the hand and showed him his playground; now known as the lost city of Machu Picchu.

Our final path on the trail has been mostly shaded, dark and moist with lush tree ferns, towering sub-tropical trees, and rare orchids. Our experienced guide, Javier — a bit over 5 feet tall with mocha-colored skin with a bright white smile — informs us we must rest and catch our breath before the final ascent. Perhaps he understands that we will need to gather our strength and to prepare for the upcoming indescribable experience.

After snacks, water and some animated Inca storytelling from Javier, we sling our orange Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma backpacks onto our backs. Hand over hand, we climb the 50 steep Inca stones, appropriately named the Crying Steps. The air is thin; labored breathing is audible. One by one, we reach the top step and breathlessly pass through a small, stone doorway, intended to keep out the enemy. Now, we welcome one another with much cheering and camaraderie. Love and admiration for each other grows among us.

Presently, we are following the trail back into the sub-tropical environment. As we gain elevation, the cobblestone path is wider and more intentionally set. I look up.

A stunning late afternoon light emanates from an opening at the crest of the hill. Again, my breathing is labored, a mixture now of the high altitude and a rush of adrenaline. I am approaching the famous Sun Gate. When at last I reach the top and turn toward the light, it is blinding. I am blinking tears from my eyes to see what the Incas pilgrimaged to experience. Carved into the pinnacle of a craggy mountain is an organized collection of stones. A sublime kaleidoscope of man and nature at work. A city abandoned and given back to the Gods, only to be reclaimed years later.

My sister Lisa was an adventurer. Multiple myeloma took her life, but her spirit shines in me and all the other lives she touched. It's crazy to say, but her death has opened up my life in ways I never dreamed. Because of Lisa, my husband Robert and I have become endurance athletes and, now, high altitude trekkers. So far, we have raised $13,200 to move this mountain of Machu Picchu with a goal still of $15,000. And we have our sights on other goals like climbing Kilimanjaro and Mount Fuji. Our healing has been in running, and now I can add hiking to the list. Thanks to CURE, Takeda Oncology and the MMRF, Robert and I have transformed our lives.

At the Sun Gate, as my vision clears, it dawns on me that Machu Picchu, with its brilliant green terraces and perfectly placed stone blocks, towering above a threatening jungle, represents human achievement overcoming adversity.

How do I best honor Lisa? Carry her adventurer spirit to the highest heights and keep on bringing awareness and the necessary funds for others not only to live but to soar to their own greatest heights.

In and out of the blazing sun and cool, dark rainforest, we are trekking to an Incan city carved into a mountaintop. Our feet will take us on a 3,200-foot vertical climb over 11 miles in eight hours.

To the Highest Heights

As we are sitting in the airport in New York city, a long layover on our way to Peru, I'm continuously checking social media to keep up with the other 18 people accompanying us in this upcoming journey. While scrolling through posts, I see one from one from the wife of one of our patients. Over the years I have come to know her; she has become very dear to me. She had posted a picture of her and her late husband who lost his battle with myeloma several months ago, the picture with the #MM4MM logo added in the corner, and the comment underneath “Wish WE could do the hike, but I am a bad hiker.” Just that picture brought tears to my eyes and filled my heart with sadness. Her husband was a wonderful man who was courageous and never lost his spirit to fight to the end. It was a great reminder that these are the people who we are doing the hike for, this is the disease we are raising funds to fight and find a cure for. This patient and his wife will be on my mind and in my heart when we reach the top of the hike this week. His name, along with others, will be hoisted on a banner when we get there.

I always think about how it must feel to be in these patients' shoes … the more patients I meet, the more amazed I am by the grace and determination many show. I was lucky to have a chance to hike with two patients, Cindi and Jeff, at the Bear Mountain training hike in New York recently. It was amazing to see their determination, strength and — what touched me the most — their gratitude for all we do for our patients. I love seeing the posts from Amy (Jeff's wife) about their children and grandson. I know we are hiking for them and she and Jeff are hiking with the hopes that research funded by the MMRF and others will help Jeff to see their children grow and their grandson go to college. I found it to be very inspiring and it makes me look forward to spending more time with this beautiful couple. When I met Cindi, I felt that we had an immediate connection, like I had known her forever. She is a ten-year survivor who will be hiking with her best friend.

And then there are the families and caregivers. I spent quite some time with Anne and Rob. Anne is honoring her sister who died few years ago from myeloma. Since her passing, Anne and Rob never stopped their commitment to raise funds for the MMRF. They run marathons, hike and do anything else they can to contribute to the mission.

I can't wait to meet the other people in the group. They all seem awesome and all have a common goal: beat this disease, raise funds for research, find better treatments and find a cure! I consider myself very lucky to be part of this group and I am looking forward to an amazing adventurous journey to our common goal.



As we are sitting in the airport in New York city, a long layover on our way to Peru, I'm continuously checking social media to keep up with the other 18 people accompanying us in this upcoming journey. While scrolling through posts, I see one from one from the wife of one of our patients. 

A Common Goal

On Friday, our team of 20 pushed up a steep hill with thousands of stone steps to reach Machu Picchu. It was HARD, yet we enjoyed every minute of it! Why? Because we have gotten to know each other — patients, caregivers, a myeloma doctor, nurses, hospital administrators, Takeda, CURE, MMRF representatives — and took this challenge on together. And because we brought so many of our loved ones and supporters with us — in our minds and in our hearts — on this journey. Indeed, it was those people who helped us reach the top!

We started as strangers and over the course of these four days, have learned each other's stories, laughed, cried, and stood in absolute awe looking at the wonder of what we have achieved and at the breathtaking beauty of all of Peru.

One of the days we had a tour of the Sun Temple in Ollyantatambo, Peru, en route to Aquas Calliente, our trail head. We witnessed the beautiful temple and surrounding terraces and learned about how these temple walls were constructed. What blew my mind was trying to understand how the Incas could cut a huge slab of granite from a mountain on the OTHER side of the river and then transport it down that mountain, across the river and then up THIS mountain to build the temple. Some of the rock slabs weighed more than 50 tons! How do they do that without the use of even the wheel? Answer: They did it with teamwork and coordination and muscle and determination. They used ropes and at times had hundreds of people pulling on that rope to move the piece of the mountain up the incredibly steep terrain.

So the Inca workers were actually moving mountains — a metaphor for what we are doing out here in Peru. We were 20 people climbing up a steep mountain. But above us, pulling, were our supporters. Hundreds of friends, co-workers and business colleagues, family members, doctors, nurses, and more were pulling us up that mountain with an invisible rope that helped us get to our glorious goal. Yes, we are Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma — with so many others pulling that rope to get us here and to help fund research that will save lives and improve quality of life.

We thank you!

On Friday, our team of 20 pushed up a steep hill with thousands of stone steps to reach Machu Picchu. It was HARD, yet we enjoyed every minute of it! Why?

Thanks to All Who Have Helped Us Move the Mountain

Only a few days left before I jet off to Peru. I’ve been looking forward to this day for nine months! It’s such an enormous opportunity to be able to make a difference in the fight to find a cure for myeloma. For 17 years, I’ve been working with patients who are fighting myeloma, and this has become my passion. This hike for me will be inspirational, emotional and intense.

Every moment of this journey that I share with my co-workers and patients has been awe-inspiring. My patients are the reason I wake up in the morning. Having the honor to hike up Machu Picchu with my colleagues and patients means the world me, and I am ecstatic to share this experience with them!

Only a few days left before I jet off to Peru. I’ve been looking forward to this day for nine months!  

 Off to Peru

It’s exciting to think that in less than a month I will be hiking the Inca Trail up Machu Picchu with my fellow Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma (MM4MM) teammates. This trek brings me full circle to an idea that came together almost a year ago. As the Head of Communications at Takeda Oncology, helping to create and sponsor MM4MM, a program that brings myeloma patients, caregivers, doctors and nurses together to raise funds and awareness for myeloma research, was an easy decision.

Although my partner Michael and I have had plenty of time to train for this trek, it’s been challenging for us to fit practice climbs in with our hectic work schedules. During the one practice climb we were able to attend, we had the chance to meet our teammates face-to-face. After spending the whole day with them, I can truly say that I am humbled to be joining this incredible group of folks, some of who are myeloma patients, and am struck by their commitment to this initiative. Our training might be lacking, but where there is no deficiency is our will to push through the physical burden ahead of us with our team to do something that will greatly impact myeloma patients.

I remember the day I volunteered to take part in this climb, it seemed surreal that I would be hiking what’s considered one of the most incredible places on earth to benefit individuals with cancer! Now as the date gets closer and I’m making final gear checks for the hike, the reality is hitting me and I feel completely ready to continue this journey.

It’s exciting to think that in less than a month I will be hiking the Inca Trail up Machu Pichu with my fellow Moving Mountains for Multiple Myeloma (MM4MM) teammates.

The Excitement Builds for My Climb

A mountain is defined as "a large natural elevation of the earth's surface rising abruptly from the surrounding level; a steep hill." Since Jeff's diagnosis of multiple myeloma in 2014, we have had many mountains put in our path. Despite what might seem like insurmountable mountains, Jeff and I have actually grown to love the mountains.

Climbing and hiking has put us in shape both physically and spiritually. The culmination of all our hard work happens this week at Macchu Picchu. Climbing this mountain is just one more step in our journey to show that cancer will NOT win or control our lives.

Definitely looking forward to an exciting week with a phenomenal group of fellow mountain conquerors. Let's get this started!

A mountain is defined as "a large natural elevation of the earth's surface rising abruptly from the surrounding level; a steep hill."

Growing to Love Mountains

My reflections on the Inca Trail hike to Machu Picchu.

Reflections on the Hike

It's been several weeks since our glorious hike at Machu Picchu, and I find my thoughts drifting back to the trip on an almost daily basis. Sometimes it's just recalling funny conversations with others on the trip (does the fact that guinea pig tastes like chicken really justify eating it?), sometimes poignant moments from the hike itself (seeing Machu Picchu for the first time from the Sun Gate; breakfast together at 4:30 a.m. the day of the hike, bundled up for cool temps, reminiscent somehow of the morning I ran the NY marathon to raise money for the MMRF years ago).

Most often, though, it's thinking about the people we met on the trip. Jeff Stiles (a patient with myeloma) and his wife Amy are super people. Fun. Funny. Cindi McNair (a TEN-YEAR myeloma survivor) is tough as nails, and — I felt — spiritual somehow. Grounded. Grateful. Determined. Inspiring.

When patients ask me whether we can somehow adjust their therapy to accommodate a trip or an occasion of some sort, I always say, “We're not treating you so you can remain well enough to come back for your next treatment. We’re doing it so you can live your life.” I almost always tell them to take the trip if they're healthy enough to do it. I, of course, never had a firsthand view of those occasions, those life events or those amazing trips until this one. What an honor and honor it was for Silva and me to be there.

A special thanks goes to JoAnn and Gene Taylor of the Walking Connection for their attention to every detail of the trip —one of those destinations where having pros looking out for us made all the difference in the world — and also to John Waller and Ben Canales of Uncage the Soul Productions and Marty Murphy at 

 magazine for documenting the whole damn thing. I'll credit John and Ben for inspiring me to diet and exercise regularly post-trip, after watching them make the trek with 1,000-pound packs full of camera equipment and also for having the photojournalistic integrity they demonstrated by not photoshopping me to look at least vaguely in shape for the hike. I've lost 12 pounds since the trip. Seriously.

Finally, I've spent a lot of time thinking about "bucket lists." That term came up so many times on the trip and over a dozen times in conversation with people since. Machu Picchu seems to be on a lot of people's bucket list. It was on mine. Honestly, when I heard about the Moving Mountins for Multiple Myeloma program, my exact reaction was: "I can raise research funds for an organization I believe strongly in AND I can knock a major hike off my bucket list while I'm doing it!”

As is often the case, there was a lesson. The ruins looked in real life just like they do in the pictures: amazing and kind of mind-boggling. The journey, though, was what really was most beautiful about the trip. You can't put that in a bucket. I hope I have the chance to see everyone from the trip again in the future (on the trail or a good bar in some distant country, not just on Facebook). Thanks to all of you who made the trip so special for us.

P.S. The answer to the guinea pig question is "yes."

It's been several weeks since our glorious hike at Machu Picchu, and I find my thoughts drifting back to the trip on an almost daily basis.

Knocking a Hike Off My Bucket List and More

After so many months, I can't believe the trip is finally here. Between starting a new job, picking finishes for our new home, putting our house on the market and my son starting college, I have also been getting ready for this trip to Machu Picchu and raising awareness of multiple myeloma. It was last fall when I began searching or asking for a way to engage more intently with life. Look what those wishes brought! My dear friend Cindi was also searching for a way to celebrate her 10-year anniversary since stem cell transplant, an amazing milestone for which we are all so glad to be together!

It’s been years since Cindi’s example of intentionality in choices, words and manner has started to gently influence me. Her subtle attitude of embracing life in whatever form it brings seems to be ushering a new open awareness of the world around me into a greater focus. As my brother, Steve, commented in 1993, prior to his death from melanoma, cancer has a way of reorganizing your priorities in life. This trip is an opportunity to focus on friendship and be with someone I care deeply about. We both want to experience what a healthy body can do! For the last couple months, we added hiking to our exercise routines to train for the five-mile ascent up to Machu Picchu. As Cindi commented about how weak she felt after her stem cell transplant, I rejoiced in the fact that she is so healthy and she can enjoy life right now. Without the amazing advances in treatment options, she may not be here today.

Cindi recently made a choice to stop her current chemo regimen due to unpleasant side effects. I am worried about this. I know these side effects are serious enough that they were interfering with a sense of enjoyment in and of her life. As we are training for her “Olympic” event, climbing Machu Picchu, I am happy to see her vibrantly laughing and dispensing her wisdom as she mentors me in my career and in the art of living fully. But I know this energy that I see now may be at a deep expense of the cancer returning sooner rather than later.

When your friend has a deadly disease, it makes you question what is most important in life. Right now, I think it is being with the people I love and experiencing the greatness of the world around us in all forms. Seeing Machu Picchu will be like walking on top of the world. I can’t believe how lucky I am to go with my dear friend and be a part of this team raising money and awareness to beat this terrible disease!

The Trip Is Here

I learned a lot yesterday about the Incas and their grit, determination and patience as we climbed to the Sun Temple as a day-trip stop along the way to our Machu Picchu destination. We climbed over 200 steps to the top to reach the Sun Temple that the Inca people built above Sacred Valley in Peru. This temple, built and established sometime in the 1400s really blew my mind when thinking in terms of today's architecture, bulldozers, computer-designed solutions, and technology to troubleshoot answers before we sometimes even know the problem. To build this Temple, manpower was the only solution. Huge granite rocks were quarried from a mountain across the way, dragged with huge long ropes by many men to the river. Then, the boulders would sit until dry season, were dragged across the dry river bed, up the other side of another mountain, and carefully put in place to build this meticulous structure. The little things made a difference — not with computer-generated architectural plans, bulldozers and excavation equipment. The Incas planned, in their primitive ways, expansion joints for when the earth moved. They prepared a drainage system from rock, gravel and moss in the terraced sides of the mountain to prevent erosion and preserve the water that would drain below to use as a natural water system. They meticulously tracked the summer and winter solstice to predict the seasons for wet or dry season, to plant or harvest. It's not like they had a 12-month calendar showing the longest and shortest days of the year. You think of the incredible work that was done, one by one, that together made such an impact, still standing today to tell a story, and I was amazed.

Cancer is like that. The little things make a difference. Grit, determination and patience tell the story. Cancer today, compared to even 20 years ago really blows my mind. As a 10-year survivor of multiple myeloma, I continue to be amazed and overwhelmed by this journey. Being a part of this group through MMRF, climbing Machu Picchu, raising funds and hiking together is an awesome sense of community, adventure and accomplishment. The advances of drug therapies in the last 10 years for myeloma and many cancers can't even begin to compare to the long, slow tedious journey of the Incas. Yet like their journey, who, one by one, made a difference; carving steps, temples and cities in stone with little to nothing but manpower. We too are, one by one, carving out a difference, raising funds and awareness together and one step at a time, moving mountains, making an 

, standing together and telling our story. And once again, I am amazed.

I learned a lot yesterday about the Incas and their grit, determination and patience as we climbed to the Sun Temple as a day-trip stop along the way to our Machu Picchu destination.

Reflections on Sacred Valley

From August 9-14, a team of 20, including four multiple myeloma patients, a myeloma doctor and four myeloma nurses will take on the Inca trail to Machu Picchu in Peru.

The route begins at the Chachabamba Entrance on the Urubamba river and leads the team along the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu after a full, seven- to nine-hour day of hiking.

As popular as visiting Peru's Machu Picchu is, hiking the Inca Trail to enter through the Sun Gate (Intipunku) is rare. Only 1% of all visitors get to enter the Citadel on this historical pathway.

Machu Picchu2016

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