When I joined Fight CRC nearly nine years ago, I didn’t know anyone affected by colorectal cancer. That changed quickly. Since then, I’ve met hundreds—maybe thousands—of survivors, caregivers, and relentless advocates whose lives and stories have reshaped my own.
They are my why.
This end-of-year giving season, I’m raising $3,000 to honor and remember the remarkable people I’ve met on this journey—those still fighting, those supporting a loved one, and those we’ve lost far too soon. Every gift keeps their stories alive and pushes this movement forward.
Evan Cantwell
I met Evan at my very first Call-on Congress, and he’s been part of my Fight CRC story ever since. A Stage III rectal cancer survivor diagnosed at just 23, Evan has spent the last two decades not only rebuilding his life, but using his camera to lift up others.
He’s the quiet force behind so many of our most meaningful moments—capturing the joy, grief, grit, and hope of this community with a sensitivity shaped by his own experience. Evan didn’t talk about his cancer for ten years, but photography became the bridge that helped him reconnect, heal, and ultimately share his story.
What stands out most about Evan is his spirit—humble, joyful, deeply thoughtful—and the fierce love he carries for his family and this community. Every March, and long after, I’m grateful to work alongside him and to witness how he shows up for this movement.
Today, I honor Evan, and the way he turns survivorship into service.
I first “met” Mike online, back when he was posting his #StrongArmSelfie photos, and I was managing our social channels. When I finally saw him in person, I blurted out, “MIKE! My favorite person!” I’m pretty sure he was stunned that I recognized him, but from that moment on, we were fast friends.
Mike was a rare soul, warm, generous, and fiercely committed to using his voice for change. I’m so grateful I had the chance to know him, learn from him, and work alongside him. His energy shaped my early years at Fight CRC, and his impact on me is permanent.
His legacy lives on through the HERO Fund, which helps survivors get to Capitol Hill to advocate—something Mike was deeply passionate about and believed in wholeheartedly.
Teri was training for her second IRONMAN when she noticed some bleeding. That symptom ultimately led to a stage IV colorectal cancer diagnosis at age 48. What followed is one of the most remarkable stories I’ve ever heard.
Teri had spent years chasing a single dream: qualifying for the IRONMAN World Championship in Kona, Hawaii. She had already completed the major marathons and finished IRONMAN Louisville twice, coming heartbreakingly close to qualifying. But after her diagnosis in 2009, everything changed. The cancer had already spread to her liver, and she faced a complex treatment plan that included radiation, chemotherapy, and major surgery.
Most people would have stepped back. Teri didn’t. Throughout treatment, and aside from a short break after surgery, she continued to swim, bike, and run. Training became her outlet and the way she reminded herself that she was still moving forward. She set goals both small and ambitious, refusing to let cancer define the limits of her life.
Two years later, at age 50 and against every odd, Teri crossed the finish line of the IRONMAN World Championship in Kona. She achieved her lifelong dream while living with stage IV cancer. It is still one of the most powerful examples of resilience I have ever seen.
Teri has also made it her mission to speak openly about colorectal cancer and encourage screening, saving lives through her honesty and willingness to share. Her story impacted her own family and continues to raise awareness for countless others.
Day 4 is dedicated to my OG girl gang: Amanda, Gina, Kim, and Ivory.
I miss these women so much. They were some of the first survivors I truly connected with at Fight CRC, and they’re a big part of why I fell in love with this work. They pulled me into their circle, made me feel included, and brought so much laughter and joy. Their stories are powerful, and I carry them with me every single day.
Amanda
Amanda was diagnosed with stage II colon cancer at just 34 after years of symptoms that were dismissed. Her insistence on getting a colonoscopy saved her life—and her diagnosis revealed something even bigger. Her mother, who had never been screened, was also found to have colon cancer. Genetic testing uncovered Lynch syndrome in their family, allowing other relatives to get tested and prevent cancer before it developed. Amanda’s story is a reminder to push for answers and to advocate for yourself, no matter your age.
Gina
Gina was 37 when she was diagnosed with stage III colon cancer, only months after giving birth. Her symptoms looked like postpartum changes, but her doctors caught the cancer early, and she credits that proactive care with saving her life. Today, she channels her energy into advocacy and education, determined to show young people that colorectal cancer is not an “older person’s disease.”
Kim
Kim is a stage III colon cancer survivor. She ignored her symptoms for too long, as so many young adults do. Now she uses her voice to make sure other young people understand the signs, push for screening, and get care before it’s too late.
Ivory
Ivory is a stage III colorectal cancer survivor whose journey reshaped her heart and her purpose. She found support through online communities, where she formed friendships.
Yvette became part of this community through heartbreaking circumstances. Her husband, Len, was 47 when he went from a clean bill of health to a stage IV colon cancer diagnosis in a matter of weeks. Nine months later, at just 48, he unfortunately passed from the disease. Their son was only 11.
Instead of stepping away from the world that brought her so much pain, Yvette stepped into it. She turned her pain into purpose. She became a fierce advocate for screening, family history awareness, and early detection.
Yvette often says, “No one is ever too young or too old for this disease — take my family’s word for it.” And she backs those words with action. She fundraises. She educates. She shows up. She fights so that no family has to endure what hers has.
I am proud to honor Yvette and Len today as part of my push to raise $3,000 for colorectal cancer research to better understand why so many young people are being diagnosed with this disease.
Day 6 is dedicated to everyone’s favorite teddy bear, Michael Holtz! ?
Michael has an absolute heart of gold. I can go to him with anything, and he is always in. No matter how big or how bold, Michael shows up. Every time. He would go into battle for this community and for the people he loves without hesitation.
Michael was diagnosed with stage III rectal cancer just five days after his 43rd birthday. What began as symptoms many people brush off became a life-changing moment almost overnight. He faced chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, and now lives with a permanent ostomy. And through it all, he became one of the strongest, most consistent voices in this movement (he has a voice of gold).
Michael believes deeply that survivors have power. That advocate voices matter. That silence helps cancer, and speaking up saves lives. He encourages people to get screened, to talk openly about symptoms, to demand better care, and to show up in rooms where decisions are made. He leads by example and never asks anyone to do something he wouldn’t do himself.
To know Michael is to feel supported, protected, and believed in. He is steady. He is kind. He is relentless. And this community is stronger because he refuses to sit quietly on the sidelines.
Day 7 is dedicated to someone who immediately comes to mind when I think of the word relentless: my buddy, everyone's buddy, JJ Singleton.
JJ was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer at just 27 years old. His life was saved by research and a clinical trial. On December 9, 2016, he started his first infusion of a trial drug and just this month completed his 176th round. That number alone tells you how long and how hard this fight has been.
JJ is still in treatment. Still living with cancer. Still carrying the physical and mental weight of eight years of nonstop care. Long-term treatment changes everything. The side effects stack up. The fatigue compounds. The financial strain, the scheduling chaos, the pain, the chemo brain, the mouth sores, the skin issues, the nausea, the depression. JJ speaks openly about all of it.
What makes JJ extraordinary is that he refuses to stay quiet. He uses his voice to push for better cancer care and better supportive care, especially for people who live with treatment for years. He reminds us that patients change over time and the system has to change with them.
JJ shares his life and his truth with thousands on social media. He speaks on podcasts, gives interviews, and sits at tables with pharmaceutical companies to give real, unfiltered patient feedback. He does not sugarcoat the experience. He shows up as himself. A survivor. A realist. A sci-fi and fantasy fan. And a relentless advocate for others who are still in the fight.
Honoring JJ today is a reminder of why research matters and why patient voices must be heard long after the first diagnosis.