KRISTI MANGAN

WRITER. PROFESSOR. BOSTON MARATHON RUNNER. MOTHER

MEET KRISTI MANGAN

Kristi thought she was doing everything right. At 37, she was an avid runner, a mom to two young boys, and an English professor who ate mostly organic foods and avoided chemicals in cosmetics and household products. She was on her treadmill on January 9, 2012, dreaming of qualifying for the Boston Marathon, when she felt a lump in her right breast. A biopsy the following week confirmed her worst fears: She had aggressive HER 2+ stage II breast cancer.

Though the pathology did not indicate clearly if she would respond to Herceptin, her oncologist prescribed it anyway. Five months later, following six cycles of chemotherapy, Kristi underwent an axillary lymph node dissection and lumpectomy. The pathology following surgery showed no evidence of disease. Thirty six sessions of radiation followed. All along, she continued to run, encouraged by her oncology nurse who called her “Runner Girl” and liked to announce her low pulse rate to everyone in the chemo suite. Even when anemia left Kristi so fatigued and breathless that she could only run one mile continuously, she continued to run and dream of Boston.

Eight months after finishing chemotherapy -- and three days before her elective bilateral mastectomy -- Kristi ran the Marine Corps Marathon and qualified to run the Boston Marathon. In 2015, she crossed the famous finish line she had dreamed of throughout her cancer treatment. 

In 2020, Kristi met Gillian Lichota, the founder and CEO of the iRise Above Foundation, and joined the iRise & Shine Wellness Program. She is now on her third round of the program and more inspired than ever to cultivate whole body wellness through tailored workouts, mindfulness, and positive psychology practices. Today, nine years after her diagnosis, Kristi is healthy and thriving, even as she continues to manage the side effects of surgeries and treatments, including lymphedema. She is an assistant professor of English at Northern Virginia Community College where she teaches college composition. She is thrilled to support the iRise Above Foundation as a board member, and contributing copy writer and editor.

Kristi lives in North Bethesda, Maryland, with her sons Dennis, 15, and John, 13.

WHAT IS THE SECRET TO MAINTAINING A POSITIVE OUTLOOK?

I think gratitude is the key to maintaining a positive perspective. Going through cancer treatment, and finding hope amidst the fear and sadness and anger and grief, taught me that there is always something to be grateful for. This was brought home to me when I was first diagnosed with cancer, but did not yet know how far it had spread. I remember struggling to ease my fear and anxiety by meditating, but being unable to calm my mind. So instead, I started listing every positive thing that came to mind: a hug from my sons, a soft robe, a card from a friend, health insurance, oncology nurses, my breath, my heartbeat, sunlight on my hand, and so much else. I was stunned to realize how much I still had to be thankful for, even in that terrifying moment. I felt calmer and even hopeful.

It sounds contradictory, but I think acknowledging the times when things aren’t so positive is an important aspect of maintaining a positive outlook. It is crucial, and healthy, to honor where we are, to allow ourselves to move through negative emotions, but not dwell on them. In fact, going through adversity is what allows us to grow and what allows us to appreciate the good.

WHAT IS THE MOST DIFFICULT DECISION YOU’VE HAD TO MAKE TO PURSUE YOUR DESTINY?

Leaving a toxic marriage. For a long time, I told myself that I had to stay for my children. But when I saw that my boys were already affected by constant stress and tension, I knew I had to leave. Facing my mortality during my breast cancer treatment was also a powerful reminder of how precious our time here is, and that I am responsible for my own well-being and care. Toward the end of that relationship, I felt very strongly that if I didn’t leave, my health would suffer.

So often, women are taught that self-care is selfish, but, really, it is critical to our own health. It’s also the best thing that we can do to ensure that we can help others.

WHAT IS THE BEST LIFE LESSON THAT TOOK YOU THE LONGEST TO LEARN?

That we are each responsible for our own happiness. I am not responsible for other people’s happiness, but I am responsible for my own.

I am a recovering people-pleaser. It has taken me a long, long time to learn that it is impossible to please everyone, or even anyone. And it has made me realize that it is not selfish to do things that make me happy and allow me to live well. I can still be a good person, a good mom, daughter, sister, friend, human, by taking care of myself -- in fact, doing that allows me to be all of those other things. I can still help others.

BREAST CANCER RELATED

WHAT IS THE MOST POSITIVE THING TO COME OUT OF YOUR BREAST CANCER JOURNEY?

There are so many positive things that have come out of this, but the most important is gratitude and an appreciation for my family, my friends, my health, and my life. Even now, every day, I am reminded of how lucky I am to be here.

Facing my mortality threw everything into stark relief and made my priorities very clear: Number one is always my sons, but I’ve also learned to take care of myself, and to help others. My cancer diagnosis was a powerful reminder that our time here is finite. We only get this one life, so we have to go after our goals now. I often think of the Mary Oliver quote: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” 

WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE TO YOURSELF WHEN YOU WERE FIRST DIAGNOSED?

I would tell myself that it is okay to not be okay. It is okay to cry. It is okay to be mad. It is okay to grieve the life and body you thought you would have. It is okay to tell your well-meaning family not to build a cabinet in the room next to yours the day after chemo (love you, Dad!), or not to visit because you feel crappy and just need some peace and quiet. It is okay to honor your feelings.

A photo I have of myself a few days after I was first diagnosed reminds me of this. The hair that I would lose a few weeks later is long and shiny. I am smiling, but I see such fear and sadness in my eyes. I bet no one else can see it, but I can. It breaks my heart to see how hard I tried even then -- even when I knew I had a life-threatening illness -- to put everyone else at ease, to reassure everyone else that it was okay, when I was the one who needed, and deserved, to be seen, comforted, and reassured.

BIG PICTURE

WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF HUMAN EXPERIENCE?

To honor the connections that exist between every one of us. To see each other and accept each other as we truly are. To want the best for each other, to help each other, without expecting anything in return. I believe that is love. 

One of my favorite quotes, which comes from the U2 song “One,” reminds me of this: 

“One love, 

one blood, 

one life,

You got to do what you should.

One life, with each other, 

sisters, brothers. 

One life, but we’re not the same. 

We get to carry each other, 

carry each other. 

One.” 

I love that they use the word “get;” not “have to,” not “must,” but “get.” It is a privilege to take care of one another, to help each other. I hope that I live that way; I hope to inspire my boys to live that way; and I hope that my story helps others.