In treatment and in marathon training; battling cancer on all fronts

By Nick Zigerelli

Helping the fight against cancer has always been a passion of mine. In college, I served on the board of our American Cancer Society's Relay for Life chapter for four years. In 2021, I ran the New York Marathon in honor of my uncle, an avid marathon runner who we lost far too young to pancreatic cancer. 

Then in October 2023, at age 29, after a month of fevers, fatigue, and migraines so severe that I couldn’t walk, I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. This aggressive blood cancer required immediate treatment and a 5-week hospital stay. I embarked on a 7-month intensive regimen that included over 72 chemo infusions, 15 spinal taps, 25 MRIs/CT scans/Ultrasounds, 5 bone marrow biopsies, 25+ blood and platelet transfusions, and countless other interventions.

Once the initial shock of my diagnosis had passed, I started building my strength in the halls of the hospital. Encouraged by the nurses who cheered me on with each lap past their station, I managed to log nearly 50 miles of walking when discharged from my first 5-week hospital stay, averaging about 5K per day! My nurses emboldened me each day of my stay, helping me reach peak strength as I headed home for the next phase of my treatment. 

Fast forwarding 6 months, and with only 2 weeks left of this grueling treatment phase, I suffered a dramatic complication from chemo, and my liver went into acute failure. With extremely low blood counts and platelets, every intervention came with massive risks, and I ended up in a coma-like state on a feeding tube in the ICU. My team concluded that my liver was likely beyond repair and I was placed on an organ donor list. My twin brother heroically tried to donate a portion of his liver but by that point, I was turned down by the transplant surgeons given my extremely slim odds of survival. My family and I were staring down the final days of my life.

With many, many small miracles and an incredible team of doctors who employed every treatment in their arsenal, I slowly started to improve. After nearly 2 weeks in the ICU, I became one of the lucky ones, managing not only to pull through the worst days, but to make a complete recovery without a transplant. When I woke up, I was back to square one of recovery, having to build up the strength just to stand up and walk on my own. 

I’m incredibly happy to report that since then, my treatment has gone much more smoothly. With advances like immunotherapy and CAR T, there are less damaging and insufferable ways to fight this disease. While getting immunotherapy, my body has recovered, allowing me to travel, propose to my girlfriend, and even get back to the CrossFit gym and the ski mountain. 

I still have another year and a half of chemotherapy maintenance treatment, as is standard in this 3-year program. As I begin my marathon training this summer, I’m still finishing the last month of immunotherapy, running while carrying a pump that dispenses a continuous infusion through a PICC line in my arm. 

Is running a marathon while getting cancer treatment reckless? Maybe. Is there any way that’s going to stop me? Not a chance. The thought of countless children enduring this debilitating process that pushed me to within an inch of losing my life is enough motivation to run 100 marathons. I plan to keep battling towards the finish line of this race and of my treatment.