Anything Is Possible
Issue #1
Anything and everything is possible. Even when the impossible happens.
“I’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer,” said Karen. My wife, Monica, and I were seated across from her and her husband in a restaurant in Jacksonville, Florida, where we all lived back in September 2024.
Silence was all we could manage, so she continued. “It’s early and I’ve decided to get a double mastectomy.”
On Monday, May 4th, 2026, about nine months after her final surgery, Karen and I, along with three of her closest female friends, were in Porto, Portugal. At 10:58 a.m. we took our first steps on the Coastal Caminho. It was day one of six, in her 107-mile run that she would complete with her friends by her side.
Her remarkable journey actually began during the summer of 2025, when we ran into each other outside our Jacksonville homes.
“How are you?” I asked.
“One surgery down. One more to go,” she said, flashing her trademark 1000-watt smile. “After which, I really want to get back to running. But…,” she trailed off.
The flicker of doubt was understandable, given the gauntlet of issues she would be dealing with during her recovery process. Still, knowing that she was an avid runner and a woman of faith, I had an idea. Plus, I knew her 60th birthday was approaching.
“How about doing a multi-day run like the Caminho in Portugal?” I blurted out. “In celebration!”
She looked at me as though I had suggested robbing a bank.
“Seriously? Would it be possible? Where would I even start planning for something like that? How many miles? How many days? ”
Undeniably, it is a huge undertaking.
She would need to get back into marathon shape. Her fitness level would need to extend over six days, running 16 to 20 miles per day. She would need a crew person to lock down logistics — hotels, air travel, car rentals, food, and, of course, provide emotional support. Karen and her friends would also have to make it to the end without getting injured.
But, as is my mantra, one step at a time.
“It can be whatever you want it to be,” I said, adding that I had completed several multi-day runs and, in fact, had recently run the one I suggested — Portugal’s Coastal Caminho — with friends, whose running abilities spanned the spectrum. “I can put a plan together. It’ll be fun.”
Her face lit up once more.
“The only missing ingredient is believing you can do it,” I added, knowing fully well that she could.
I mapped out six days of running on the coast of northern Portugal starting in Viana do Castello and ending in Spain, at Santiago de Compostela, a town of great historical and mystical significance. The route was challenging — mileage, climbs and variable spring weather, high winds, rain and scorching days — but also scenically rewarding. They would traverse ancient coastal towns, medieval villages, verdant cliffs and vineyards. An unforgettable journey, for sure.
I sent the email.
I didn't hear back from Karen the next day, the next week, or for months afterwards. Her 60th birthday came and went, but no word.
Then, in November 2025, I received a text that said, simply, “David, I’m ready. Let’s do this. Karen.”
So, there we were in Porto, two weeks ago. Karen, Kristi, Marti and Aimee, ready to take the first step on an adventure of a lifetime. Karen’s daughter was there, too, as her crew chief — or, “BBB,” they joked — their “Bag Boss Bitch.”
I ran with them for the first day, before returning home. They continued on their journey, which they would later describe as profound and humbling. En route they were awed by people of all ages, shapes, sizes and physical limitations, every one of them determined to make the pilgrimage with perseverance and grace.
I’ve been reflecting on Karen’s journey lately. Life happens. Cancer happens. It didn’t stop her from doing a multi-day run. Her faith is unquestionably foundational, but she also made a deliberate choice to move forward with optimism and conviction. She didn’t dwell on her diagnosis, bad luck, or be squashed into submission.
Karen chose a half-full outlook — a tenet that has always been my North Star. Her strength and optimism not only gave her the confidence to run, but to run farther and longer than ever before, while surrounded by her closest friends.
At the beginning of the run, their faces radiated with anticipation and excitement. At the end of it, it was pure, unfiltered joy. This wasn’t about victory or triumphalism. It was about experiencing far more than what they had set out to achieve.
They reinforced how movement, nature and human collectivism can be so uplifting, connecting us no matter our differences, as well as offering relief from dealing with life’s curve balls.
What happens, happens in life. But when you face it with this kind of optimism and strength, you really can do more than you ever thought possible.
It’s what keeps me on the road. Hope you’ll join me.
Cheers,
David.
