Seriously. If you told me 4 months ago that I’d be someone who ran around Lake Merritt, I’d have laughed in your face. Running the 3.2 miles around the lake not only seemed highly improbable but totally insane, and the people who did it seemed devoted to a fitness god I could never find faith in.

Well, hallelujah! This week, I not only ran around the lake, I ran to it and back for a total of 5.2 miles of running. Not bad for 5:30 am on a Tuesday. However, running the lake, for me, is like finding myself in a foreign country with its own strange culture. It’s incredibly surprising how many people are out and about the lake before the 6 o’clock hour; and, the diversity is very representative of Oakland as a whole. From spritely teenagers dashing about to ancient sages hobbling, enthusiastic ladies shouting around at their boot camp to homeless men whispering about the weather, and I even saw one guy, sharply dressed, doing tai chi and smoking a joint.

Geese are everywhere. They’re nasty, ornery, and leave poop all over the place that has to be quickly dodged while running, like a spontaneous game of hopscotch. My sense is that nobody can do anything about them since Lake Merritt is the United States’ first wildlife refuge, since 1870. Essentially, the geese own the lake, they seem to know it, and just let us pass through.

I think a lot about the history of the lake as I run around it and I try not to bore my TNT teammates with too much while running. First off, it’s really not a lake, it’s a tidal estuary, since it is a partially enclosed body of brackish water with fresh water flowing in. It used to be a sewer, but thankfully, somebody named Sam Merritt, who happened to be a mayor of Oakland decided to clean it up (for the record, we’re still cleaning it up. The goose poop probably doesn’t help). Well, people like having a lake in the middle of town, and over the next few years, laid the foundation for what we have today. It’s the jewel of Oakland, complete with lights, a Fairyland for the kids, and recently renovated running paths from measure DD. I’m stoked to use those new paths, joining the amazing early morning people of Oakland, dodging goose poop, huffing and puffing and trying to kick cancer’s ass one lap of the lake at a time.

The birth of my son Calder on 4/22 has slowed me down a little bit. Before he was born, I was edging up toward running 10-12 miles a week. Now, with the sleep deprivation and overall lack of time and energy, I’m lucky to knock out 6-8. This week is the worst, so bad I’m too embarrassed to document it. Still, with all that said, I feel good about where I’m at with my training. Since my sister died, as of 5/24, I’ve run a total of 77.5 training miles. The real training with Team In Training is about to begin and I feel like this marathon is something I can really do... sorta. It’s been a long time since I’ve pushed myself outside my comfort zone like this; where I’ve done something that truly scares me. Most of these types of things I did in my 20’s: skydiving, scuba diving, bungee jumping, surfing double overhead waves over off shore reefs in the middle of the south pacific, bombing down hills on skateboards in traffic congested cities, going back to school for my Masters degree, and proposing marriage. But all of them have been immensely rewarding. My sister never thought twice about doing things like this. She was an ass-kicking survivor who’d jump into any fire that looked like it led somewhere greater. I’m know that if she were around that she’d be the one convincing me to run and not the other way around.

However, my overall relationship to running has not gotten any better. Many of my close friends and family members ask me how it’s going and if I like running any better, and, it’s without any hesitation that I answer, “No.” Sometimes I suspect that I’m not a fitness person like my sister was, just like she did not have my overwhelmingly intense love of food and drink. But, I’ve come to think of running as the inverse of drinking. With running, you start out feeling like hell and everything hurts; you’re sweaty, hot, and you want to give up, lay down, and cry. Then, at then end, you have this moment of clarity and calm. With drinking it’s the exact reverse. Also, I notice that there’s a seesaw effect with the two. There’s only so much running and drinking one can do. If I run more, I drink less. And, drinking doesn’t help me grieve.

Regardless of the alleged benefits to my health and wellbeing, I continue to run because it allows me to get inside my sister’s headspace. As I find myself edging closer to a level of acceptance about her death, it is more her essence I feel when I run and less her voice in my head. The only other time I sense this is when I eat sushi. Laura was probably the only other person I know (besides our Mom) who loved sushi as much as I do. However, a sushi lunch is an expensive communion, whereas running is free and can be done at 5 am.

But this running shtick is entering a phase where me and mine are no longer center stage. While the push to do something like this is motivated by my grief, the bigger picture is that the the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society is enabling all the doctors, researchers, and support staff that helped my sister in her year of struggle against leukemia, to help future patients survive. The money that comes through here, will fund the research to save someone else’s sister. I’ve been told by Team in Training that now that I’ve met my minimum fundraising goal, ALL the money raised from here on out goes directly to research for cures. Without a doubt, if my sister was here today, she’d say, “Let’s cure some f-ing blood cancer here, people!”

To date, I’ve run 46 training miles. If my sister had survived her leukemia and was running with me, I’m fairly certain that she’d ask me certain questions about my running. Without a doubt, her first comment would be on my running outfit. She’d probably say something like, “I’m not saying you look lame (which is what she is saying), it’s just maybe some of these clothes are a little old.” I would have argued that, “Well, they were work out clothes, so who cares,” But I would know what she meant.

Because, seriously; I look like your average lame-O dad from the 1970’s. I am wearing my grandfather Ben’s blue sweatpants. Under whatever ratty T-shirt is next in the rotation is my brother-in-law’s worn through blue hoodie which he gave to my NZ friends. It lived on the southern hemisphere for 5 years and came back to the US to be my painting smock for another 1/2 decade. All that, and, my long hair is in a bun. Laura would have commented on all these things. Being a greater consumerist than I was, she would have been more apt to buy stuff. I hate buying stuff, almost to a fault. She would have invited me to get a haircut; then, if we ran together enough she would have found some random holiday occasion to give me a new running outfit, so I’d look as good as she did. (I know this because, back when we did yoga together she bought me nice yoga clothes. I can only assume the same for running.)

The second thing my sister would have laid into me about would be running in the middle of the street. I would have told her my standard narrative: running in the street is better for my joints, it makes me feel so much more punk rock, I’m like Rocky... But really I’m afraid of skunks. The second week I started running, I was out plugging along at 5am, and at about 1.2 miles, I see in the distance, a black dog walking out of our local rose garden. As I get closer I notice this “dog” has a white stripe down the side. At about 8 feet away, I realize this is not a dog staring at me but a very large cat; then, intuitively, I know no cat could be that big. Finally, another 2 feet along, I can clearly see it’s a skunk. Luckily I was running, and I just had to pivot and run the other way. So, now I run in the middle of the street. This way, I can see skunks coming at me with a very wide berth.

I know what my sister’s final question would be, “Why are you running if it sucks for you.” While I can clearly see it is helping me, running is not something I enjoy. However, I’m running because I need to be a better man, even if it means doing something unpleasant or uncomfortable. When someone close to you dies, you just have to do something that takes you out of your comfort zone. We have to become MORE than we are to deal with something like this. We have to look at where our integrity is deficient and become better people.

Grieving demands transformation. Being bound with Laura, she has made a transformation, and we are compelled, by our spiritual bind, to transform along with her... this is what I think about at 5:30am: running, looking dorky, avoiding skunks, feeling like hell... having conversations with my sister in my mind...

On Valentine's Day this year, my sister died from Acute Myeloid Leukemia. It was a year long, hard fought battle. My sister was always feriously tenacious. I know that if she had survived, that she would be running with me this October. There was a big chunk of time where Laura and I used to run together and I started again after her funeral. It has been the only thing that has significantly helped me move forward through the grieving process.

Laura and I used to run up and down the HB strand. Sometimes we'd run slow and have long conversations about everything. Other times, I berate her in a funny accents to get her to run faster. It never worked since it left us laughing too hard and struggling to breathe and keep pace. One time in particular we convinced each other to jump in the ocean. For the sake of storytelling panache, let's say it was winter. We jumped in and bounced around the waves for a bit, declaring all manner of expletives. We drove home soaked, but impressed with our own bravado. It was one of those moments where life smacks you in face.

I'm running this race because it's the kind of crazy thing we would convince eachother to do, because running gives me the emotional clarity to move forward with my grief, and to raise awareness and money for the battle against the disease that took her life.

Teams are made up of individuals. Without them, there is no team.

Welcome to my Team In Training home page.

I have a mission-to help find cures and more effective treatments for blood cancers. To accomplish that mission, I’m participating in a sports endurance event as a member of The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s (LLS) Team In Training. Like the other members of TNT, I will be raising funds to help find cures and better treatments for leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin’s disease and myeloma. I’m improving the quality of my life by participating and with your support, I can help improve the quality of life for patients and their families as well.

Please make a donation in support of my efforts with Team In Training and help advance the research for cures.