05/13/2026
Wow. Talk about stopping in your tracks. This is beautiful Glenda Adams! Your energy and spirit is contagious! Thank you for reminding us all to “Eat the damn cake”
As I was on a bike ride this morning, I came upon a group of wild turkeys off the bike path. If you know me, you know I’m always looking for wildlife when I’m running or biking, and always stop to take a picture.
Today I didn’t stop, I don’t know why. Maybe I was in a groove, or thought they’d run away before I got a photo, but I rode on. And I instantly regretted it. As I continued riding, one phrase popped in my head:
Eat the damn cake.
That was my wife’s mantra the ten months she fought cancer. It was something her brother told her, when he learned of her diagnosis. It meant enjoy all the things she could, while she still had time.
We did our best, between chemo and hospital stays. We did the things that brought her joy. We didn’t worry about the extra calories in that dessert (literally eating the cake), and we also took the time for the small moments, the silly things, the time with family and friends.
We did the big things, going on an Alaskan cruise for our last anniversary together. She did hard things that brought her joy, like training for a 5k through chemo, blood clots, exhaustion.
When the time grew short, even though we didn’t know how short it would be, we still tried to go for a walk together. I pushed her in a jogging chair for a race. She invited friends to meet up by our favorite running store, for her last birthday celebration.
After she passed, that mantra shifted for me. It was something to hold on to, to do things I knew I’d probably enjoy, even though I didn’t feel like doing anything. I was supposed to run a marathon a couple weeks after she was gone, she was going to do the half in a push wheelchair with an adaptive running group. I didn’t feel like running it, but at some point I decided “eat the damn cake” meant doing it anyway. It was hard, and emotional, and there were a lot of tears. But a few moments of joy.
For those first couple years, and even now, three years later, I still have to remind myself to look for that joy. It’s still hard, the days are too long and too quiet. But when I’m unsure about doing a race, or taking a trip, or doing something with family, I try to be brave and say yes, even if I emotionally feel like just hiding forever.
After I turned around at my halfway point on my bike route today, and rode back by that original spot, the turkeys were still there. So I stopped and did take a photo. I was lucky to get a second chance at it.
So I hope you all can try to look for those small and large things that you might miss, or be unsure about, and do them. Run that race, stop and take a picture of that bunny, have an ice cream now and then even if you feel like you shouldn’t. Stop for photo with that one character you love during a Disney race, even if the line seems long. Play with your kids or grandkids. Sit outside and enjoy the warmth of the sun. We never know how long those things will last.
Find your joy.
