The fall of 2026 marks 10 years.
Ten years since cancer changed my life, and ten years since I got the chance to keep living it.
I was 26 years old. I had just bought my first home, started a new career in college athletics, and felt like everything was falling into place. Then I started getting sick.
For seven months, I searched for answers while my body got weaker and weaker. It wasn’t until a rheumatologist at Mayo Clinic in Rochester truly listened that things finally started to make sense. Along with an incredible team of neurologists, she diagnosed me with a rare autoimmune muscle disease called dermatomyositis.
As a lifelong athlete, I was devastated. I went from feeling strong and capable to struggling with basic tasks. There were days I couldn’t even put my own pants on.
My doctor explained that while I wasn’t showing signs of cancer, dermatomyositis is sometimes associated with certain cancers, so they wanted to do a PET scan before starting treatment.
That scan changed everything.
They found a softball-sized tumor in my colon: late-stage II colorectal cancer.
I still remember sitting in that room feeling like I was watching a movie. Time slowed down. I remember interrupting the doctor and asking her to stop talking for a minute because I was suddenly so hot I needed to take off my coat and sweater. My mom and I cried together in the parking lot afterward. In that moment, it felt like I had lost control of everything.
At the end of October, surgeons removed most of my colon and 65-70 lymph nodes. Thankfully, the cancer had not spread. They got it all.
For the next five years, Mayo Clinic became a regular part of my life. Every scan, every appointment, every test came with its own nerves. My personal goal was simple: make every doctor and nurse laugh. It made me feel better, and I’m proud to say that nearly 10 years later, my success rate remains 100%.
I have never really shared this part of my life publicly before.
What I remember most from that season isn’t the fear, it’s the people. The friends, family, medical teams, and complete strangers who showed up for me when I needed them most. I have been the recipient of so much love and kindness in my life, and I want to pay a small piece of that forward.
On September 19, 2026, just a few weeks before my 10-year “cancerversary”, I will be running my second 50K ultramarathon in Sisters, Oregon with my husband and a group of friends.
To celebrate 10 years and the race I’ll be running on September 19th, we are raising $19,000 for Colontown.
Every dollar will go directly toward supporting people who are actively battling colorectal cancer and honoring those we have lost along the way.
If you know me, you know I love an adventure. So let’s make September 19 an Adventure Day. Go for a run, take a hike, paddle a river, ride a bike, walk around your neighborhood, or try something new. Share your adventure and tag @motty_bynature and @colontown so we can celebrate together.
The first 100 people who donate $250+ will receive a custom running hat.
The donation link will remain open through November 1. Any amount helps, and I promise it will go into deserving hands.
And one more thing: if you are 45 or older, it’s time to schedule your colonoscopy.
On September 19, 2026, Kelsey will run her second 50K ultramarathon in Sisters, Oregon, alongside her husband and friends while raising $19,000 for PALTOWN Development Foundation, the nonprofit organization that powers COLONTOWN and provides trusted education, peer support, and resources for people affected by colorectal cancer. Through PALTOWN, thousands of people in the colorectal cancer community find connection, knowledge, empowerment, and the tools to advocate for the best possible outcomes.