I've said it before. Every time I go running I feel like I'm crushing cancer with each and every step I pound onto the pavement. It's exhilarating, knowing I'm doing something good for my body and my soul, knowing every day I run is one more day I've survived a nasty disease. Apparently, others agree.

Think about this:

A new Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure magazine advertisement features a close-up shot of the bottom of a running shoe. Woven into the tread on the bottom of the shoe are these words:

Every step resounds with the satisfying crunch of breast cancer being stomped into oblivion.

This is exactly how I feel.

Studies exist that link acid-reflux conditions to cancer of the larynx -- or voice box -- but authors of a new study say they all suffer shortcomings in methodology.

The new study, published in the American Journal of Medicine, was intended to make up for these shortcomings by comparing 96 men and women with laryngeal cancer to a group of adults without the disease. All participants were matched by age, gender, and ethnicity -- three of the most important risk factors for this cancer. Overall, the study found people with GERD -- gastroesophageal reflux disease -- were twice as likely to develop laryngeal cancer, compared to those without the condition. GERD has long been considered a possible risk factor for this cancer, mostly because GERD is common among people with the cancer. More definitive studies are on the horizon.

GERD, which occurs when the muscle of the bottom of the esophagus fails to close properly, allowing stomach acids to leak into the esophagus, is also linked to esophageal cancer.

Several boxes containing injections of Neulasta have lined the bottom of my refrigerator for more than a year. They are left-overs from chemotherapy -- from a time when one needle pierced the skin on my arm after each chemo treatment to keep my blood counts in a safe range. I've looked at them day after day after day, and I've allowed them to sit in the same exact spot for all this time. But today, they are in the trash -- not because I made a conscious choice to throw them away but because water spilled all over the inside of my refrigerator and left them soggy and damaged. Surely I would not have used them in this condition, I thought -- so I tossed them. But really, I would not have used them anyway. They were old -- probably past their expiration date -- and I am not receiving chemotherapy anymore. I had absolutely no use for them. But I kept them for safety or comfort or some other impractical reason -- for the same reason I keep a basket full of old medication in my kitchen cupboard. It's all cancer-related -- most of it never touched because I don't really like taking medication, even when necessary. So this stock-piling tendency defies all logic for me. Until today -- when part of my past sits in a white trash bag, ready for the curb, and the rest of it is soon to be trashed. So I can continue moving forward. Away from cancer. For good.