In which I embrace my pale skin

I'm not counting on anyone noticing how pale I have been in the past two years-- but I will come out and say it. I am pale. Two years ago I would have been ashamed of this fact yet today I proudly embrace that my skin is significantly lighter than in years past.

I used to get really tan in the Spring and Summer months. Growing up in Ohio under the sweltering humid sun it seemed almost impossible to contemplate a suffocating layer or sunscreen because sweating was a dire necessity. I also used to have really bad cystic acne to my face and back that cleared quite well with some UV love. As I quickly learned, I also can get the deep brown tan on par with that of a pornstar. Just a few good days out and I was back to golden brown for summer.

To many, the tan lines of cycling and running is the embodiment of the sports. They aren't tan lines, they are "commitment lines." It is the time of year we dream about (unless you race Cross or Ski as your primary discipline...). Shed the warmers, layers, and the sponge and bucket for some liberation from the crueler elements.

Reality Check, here it comes

My father has metastatic melanoma and is actively getting treatment. My great uncle Jack died from complications of (wait for it) metastatic melanoma. My maternal uncle has had significant squamous cell carcinoma removed in the past year. Earlier this year at the age of 27, not even half the age of my father, I had a pre-cancerous area burned off my face with liquid nitrogen.  The circle of direct genetics and influence has closed in around me. I'm brown brown haired, blue/green eyed and need to embrace the fact that while I can tan rather well it is probably the closest thing to putting me in an early grave.

I took enough genetics and cancer biology in college (because the RD classes weren't keeping me busy enough?) to know my percentages. I know it's likely I have the gene that expresses the cancer proliferation so easily. I have the sun burn and sun exposure history to elevate my risk. Additionally it seems that life's idea of a cruel joke in hindsight, common sense, has evaded me until now.

As someone who strives to live an active, healthy, and life-extending lifestyle it seemed time to wise up. What also has helped my logic is that I see many folks who haven't protected their skin and they look like a piece of regurgitated fruit leather. I'm a vain person and have no shame in admitting I want to have the looks to grace Mens Health when I'm 65.

Action, move forward

First and foremost, I faithfully started wearing sunscreen that my dainty and rather sensitive skin could tolerate. I even found SPF product that I use as my daily lotion (because dry skin sucks too). I take the perfect 1oz tubes with me on my rides and reapply every 90 minutes. I haven't burned or peeled in over two years now.

Additionally, I'm wearing more clothes. I always ran around like a feral in only running shorts and shoes or had sheer/mesh sleeveless jerseys and no-show socks on while cycling. Fast forward to present day and I've learned the value of base layers for cooling and full-weave jerseys in Summer months. On long rides I wear SunSleeves-- which not only block UV but also are remarkably good at cooling the body down. I've learned that Sock Doping is a thing and can mean a pretty nice look. Afterall, It IS a sport of aesthetics...

I have an annual check-up now with a great dermatology group. If you have a family history of skin cancer your insurance will pay for this in full.

Diet wise, I haven't changed much. As a rule, I eat fairly well. Plenty of vegetation and raw and fresh-pressed fats. Sure, in the summer I get away with a bit more sugar BC I'm burning way more too-- but overall diet quality is still on par.

***No amount of diet magic can spare you a direct mutation from UV radiation no matter what the internet or best-selling author tell you.***

The takeaway 

Wear sunscreen, workout not in mid-day, wear a hat, cover up, and eat like you want to live to see the year 2100.

 Most of all, learn to enjoy the life you have for yourself, knowing that in a matter of a doctor visit or biopsy, your life could be changed forever.

Patrick.