When I was going through radiation for nasal cancer last year, I came across the Fight for Air Climb hosted by the American Lung Association. I was swollen, exhausted, and barely able to move without pain—but I saw it and told myself: I’m going to do that next year.
At the time, I couldn’t do much more than walk a few blocks. But that event became a kind of north star. It gave me something to move toward. Something to train for. Something hard—but not harder than what I was already enduring.
And now, it’s happening. On June 22, I’ll be climbing the stairs at Soldier Field in Chicago—1600 of them—to raise money and awareness for clean air and lung health. You can donate or learn more here: http://action.lung.org/goto/ambertrippperez
Making It All Mean Something
You might be thinking, “Yeah, yeah, Amber, enough with the cancer posts already.”
But here’s the thing—when life sideswipes you with something massive, you either spend the rest of your life pretending it didn’t happen… or you try to make it mean something.
For me, that “something” isn’t a shiny silver lining. I’m not trying to turn trauma into a TED Talk or a feel-good soundbite. But I am trying to give it direction. Purpose. Weight.
This climb is one way I’m doing that.
It’s not specific to my diagnosis, but it’s tied to something bigger—clean air, public health, and the environment we all live in. And it gives me a way to turn what I went through into action. To raise awareness. To connect the personal to the public. To move forward in a way that feels meaningful.
It’s Not Just About Lungs
My cancer—nasal septal squamous cell carcinoma—isn’t common. But cancer doesn’t care how rare your case is. It doesn’t wait for a category or a community. It just shows up.
And that’s why the American Lung Association’s mission resonates so deeply with me. They fight for more than one disease. They fight for clean air, for respiratory research, and for public health advocacy. All of which matter—maybe more than I realized before my diagnosis.
Air quality affects everyone. It may have even played a role in my own story. And standing up for that—step after step, stair after stair—feels like doing something that matters.
Training Has Been a Lifeline
Since my rhinectomy and during reconstruction, I’ve had to reimagine what strength and recovery look like. Training for this climb gave me purpose. It reminded me that I still have control over something—my mindset, my discipline, my forward motion.
Some days I’m tired. Some days I don’t want to train. But every time I do, it’s a reminder that I’m not stuck in what happened to me—I’m still moving through it. Still building toward something new.
Come Cheer Me On
If you’re in the Chicago area and want to come support me on race day, you can. Friends and family can cheer from the stands at Soldier Field for a small admission fee, and the energy is contagious.
There’s even a way to register on-site if you decide you want to try it for yourself. Whether you walk, jog, or take your time—it’s a powerful experience and open to many levels of fitness.
A Finish Line That Means More
I don’t know how I’ll feel at the top of those stairs. But I can imagine it: a profound kind of triumph. A chapter closing. A new one beginning.
This climb isn’t just about fitness or fundraising. It’s about proving to myself that I’m still healthy. Still capable. Still climbing.
If you’d like to support my climb or learn more about the cause, here’s where you can donate:
http://action.lung.org/goto/ambertrippperez
