Marathon Runner to Stage iv MBC

11/22/2025

✨ Day 14 — Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness ✨
By Elizabeth Gendron | Stage IV MBC | Lifer Not Survivor
Some days with Stage IV MBC feel like a full-body fight, and other days feel like a quiet reminder to keep going — even if the pace is slow, even if the weight is heavy.
Today is one of those reminder days.
Living with this disease means navigating setbacks, delays, unexpected symptoms, and constant adjustments. It means showing up when you’re tired. Listening to your body when it whispers. And holding tighter to hope when everything feels uncertain.
But I’m still here.
Still moving.
Still loving the people who anchor me.
Still looking forward to the moments that make me feel alive — snowboarding season, fresh cold air, mountains that remind me of my strength, and time with my family in the place that feels like home.
Stage IV has taken a lot, but it hasn’t taken me.
Not my voice.
Not my fire.
Not my purpose.
Not my joy.
💗 Pink for breast cancer.
💚💙 Teal and green for metastasis.
And all the colors of a life I’m still fiercely living.

11/21/2025

✨ Day 12 part 2! — Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness ✨
By Elizabeth Gendron | Stage IV MBC | Lifer Not Survivor
The joys of being a Stage IV cancer patient…
Monthly bloodwork becomes part of your routine, until your body decides it has other plans.
Today my port refused to cooperate.
They flushed it over 15 times, tried every trick, even switched to the smaller syringe — and still couldn’t get more than 6ml.
(They need 7ml just to clear the waste before they can even start using the blood.)
So now I sit here for two hours while they run a treatment to clear the port lines.
They tried my arm too — they can only use the right one — and after three attempts, the veins collapsed before they could even fill the vial.
This is the side of Stage IV MBC most people never see.
The waiting.
The poking.
The bruising.
The frustration.
The constant negotiation with a body that doesn’t always want to cooperate.
But I keep showing up.
Because I’m still here.
Because I have people to love, mountains still waiting for me, and snowboarding seasons ahead that I refuse to miss.
Because my life — even on days like this — is still worth every fight.
💗💚💙 And I hold tighter. Always.
marathonrunnertostageivmbc

11/21/2025

✨ Day 12 — Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness ✨
By Elizabeth Gendron | Stage IV MBC | Lifer Not Survivor
People talk about strength like it’s something loud.
But the truth is… real strength is quiet.
It’s soft.
It’s standing in the doorway of your home with the person who has held you through every version of this diagnosis.
Living with Stage IV MBC means moving through life with both hands full — fear in one, fierce love in the other.
And on the days when this journey feels heavier than my body can carry, he is right here.
Not fixing it.
Not pretending it’s easy.
Just holding tighter with me.
And even in all of this, there is still joy I’m moving toward.
I’m looking forward to snowboarding season — to being back in my happy place with my family.
This cold weather reminds me that the snow is coming, and with it, the moments that make me feel most alive.
I didn’t choose this path.
But I choose how I walk it.
With honesty. With tenderness. With fire.
With the people who refuse to let me face any of it alone.
Organizations like B4BC.org have shown me what community looks like — real support, real connection, real humanity.
And I’m grateful every day that none of us is meant to do this alone.
💗 Pink for breast cancer.
💚💙 Teal and green for metastasis.
And the strength between us — that’s ours.

Boarding for Breast Cancer (B4BC) is a 501(c) 3 non-profit foundation founded in 1996. Our mission is triple focused to prepare young people with education on early detection, promote the importance of maintaining a healthy, active lifestyle as the best means of breast cancer prevention, and provide...

11/19/2025

✨ Day 12 — Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness ✨
By Elizabeth Gendron | Stage IV MBC | Lifer Not Survivor
Stage IV MBC has a way of stripping life down to its essentials — the people you love, the moments you don’t want to miss, and the strength you discover when you think you have none left.
I used to run marathons.
Now, I run on purpose.
Every mile looks different, but the meaning is deeper.
I’ve learned I don’t need to be fearless…
I just need to hold tighter.
I hold tighter to my daughter — my reason, my heartbeat, my anchor.
I hold tighter to my husband — the one who catches me when the days feel heavy, who stands with me through every scan, every shift, every unknown.
And I hold tighter to myself — the woman who refuses to disappear inside this diagnosis.
This life, even with MBC, is still filled with love, color, and intention.
This life is still mine.
And I’m grateful for organizations like B4BC.org, who make sure women like me are seen, supported, and never walking alone. Their work matters — because we matter.
💗💚💙 Pink for breast cancer.
Teal & green for metastasis.
But the strongest color I wear is hope.

11/17/2025

💗 Day 10 – The Power of Community
Community has carried me through every mile —
from the pavement beneath my running shoes
to the hospital floors beneath my feet.
As a marathon runner, I learned what it meant to be lifted by the people beside me…
the cheers, the signs, the high-fives, the strangers who became teammates for a few miles.
I never knew how much that lesson would matter later.
Because Stage IV is a marathon of its own —
one without a finish line,
one where strength comes from the hearts standing beside you,
one where community is everything.
I don’t run this race alone.
I never have.
And the people who show up for me — in big ways and quiet ways —
are part of the reason I keep going.
Thank you for being my community.
My circle.
My team.
My strength. 💗💚💙
— Elizabeth Gendron |
🎗️

11/16/2025

💗 Day 9 – Holding On & Letting Go
There is something magical about this moment.
Not because I was afraid…
but because I’ve learned to hold her a little tighter,
to soak in the sweetness of every second,
and to notice the joy right in front of me.
Metastatic breast cancer changes your relationship with time.
It makes you slow down.
It makes you breathe differently.
It makes these ordinary moments feel extraordinary.
At Disney, I wasn’t a patient.
I was her mom — fully present, fully alive, fully hers.
She is my reason.
My heartbeat.
My life.
The “why” behind every scan, every treatment, every step forward.
Stage IV is different…
but the love we share is steady, grounding, and forever. 💗💚💙
— Elizabeth Gendron |
🎗️

11/16/2025

🌸 Day 8 – Why I Share
I never imagined I’d be the one holding this sign…
or living the reality behind it.
But here I am — a marathon runner turned metastatic breast cancer advocate — telling my story because too many people still don’t understand what Stage IV really means.
Stage IV is different.
It’s not “the same but harder.”
It’s not a chapter — it’s the whole book.
There is no finish line, no “all clear,” no ringing a bell.
And that’s exactly why I share.
I share because early detection matters.
I share because this disease is underfunded and overlooked.
I share because humor, grit, and truth can save lives.
And I share because if my voice reaches even one person who needs it… it’s worth it.
This is why I speak up.
This is why I keep going.
This is why I share. 💗💚💙
— Elizabeth Gendron |
🎗️

11/14/2025

Some moments are too tender for words.
Cancer takes a lot — energy, hair, normalcy — but it can’t take the love between us.
These are the moments no one sees… the ones where I am held together by the smallest arms and the biggest love.
We keep going. Together.
— Elizabeth Gendron |
🎗️

11/13/2025

Scan days hit differently. The waiting, the wondering, the holding-your-breath kind of fear — this is the part of metastatic breast cancer you don’t see. Scanxiety is real, and it’s the emotional marathon I never trained for, but somehow still keep running. If you’re living this too, you’re not alone. We keep going… even when it’s hard.

11/12/2025

11/10/2025

Myth Busting:
“Myth: MBC means you didn’t fight hard enough.
Fact:
Cancer doesn’t care how hard you fight — it’s biology, not bravery.”