Personal Profiles
April 19, 2010
Eric Kaye: Why I Run the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge
Eric Kaye, 24, is a development officer in Annual Giving at Dana-Farber. This is his third year as a member of the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge team.
Eric Kaye is running with colleagues Lauren Kryznowek (middle) and Brenda Chroniak (front) in the 2010 Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge.
The year 1999 started out as a special one for me. I celebrated my Bar Mitzvah, took a spring skiing trip with my dad to Park City, Utah, and, when the weather was nice, he and I took afternoon bike trips — four to six miles around Framingham, Mass. Our longest ride together, which seemed like an enormous distance when I was 13, turned out to be 11 miles through back roads of Framingham and nearby Southborough. Unfortunately, that early June ride would be our last together; the following weekend he told me that he had been diagnosed with lung cancer.
At the time of his diagnosis I didn't grasp the severity, nor did I understand how he could be so healthy one weekend but in the hospital a few days later. My dad was treated at Dana-Farber, and I believed he was here to beat cancer. Only until a few days before he passed away, in October of that same year, did I even question if we would be taking another bike ride together.
During my father's treatment, my mom's friends suggested we get a team together for the Boston Marathon® Jimmy Fund Walk. While honoring my dad during his five-month long fight with cancer, Team Harvey Kaye took our first steps in 1999. Every year since, and thousands of steps later, I have been walking in his memory. Sometimes with friends, other times with my mom and sister by my side, and last year out on my own running and walking. Those 13.1 miles, from Wellesley to Boston, remain an important connection for my family to Dana-Farber.
For many years it was difficult for me to talk about my dad and losing him to cancer. I had the Jimmy Fund Walk and that was my way of giving back to Dana-Farber. My mom continued her support by becoming a member of the Adult Patient Family Advisory Council here in 2003. I learned more about the Institute, and in 2008, I accepted a job at Dana-Farber in Development, which raises money for research and patient-centered care. Even though it was tough at times to come back here, I wanted to continue my connection. I also wanted to strengthen my family's connection to the Institute by joining the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge (DFMC) team around the same time I got my job.
After my first marathon, selfishly and in so much pain, I said I would never run again. That was 2008. Now, having raised more than $25,000 in my three years with the DFMC, and trying to reach a fundraising goal of $10,000 for 2010, I've come to enjoy everything about training for a marathon — yes, even the below-zero wind chill during morning group runs in January — because I know the team's fundraising each year is helping so many families who come to Dana-Farber for treatment.
Running keeps my dad's memory alive. Since he has passed away, I've learned that I am a lot like my dad and he was a lot like me. We both travelled abroad extensively and took ski trips with friends and family at every opportunity. We both also thoroughly enjoyed food: my dad claimed to know every deli between New York City and Boston and I know the best places for brunch following a long run. We differ as far as marathon running goes, but I can't say he wouldn't have given it a shot if he had beaten cancer.
My family will be cheering me on in Framingham as I get close to mile six of the marathon, and again toward the finish line. I guess I have made myself very familiar with the Boston Marathon course — 196.5 miles in 11 years for the Walk and DFMC, and another 26.2 on April 19 — with each mile in memory of my dad and always one step closer to a cure. I can't see myself running Boston any other way. I am so amazed and inspired by so many of my DFMC teammates. We all share similar stories; some are cancer survivors themselves, and others have built great bonds with their patient partners.
I'll admit that I am biased when it comes to Boston: there's no better marathon or greater sports fans. And there's no more meaningful mile than mile 25. Right about there my legs don't want to go any further, but seeing the patient partners and all the DFMC volunteers cheering gives me a second wind, or possibly a third at this point in the race. Their support is amazing, and every DFMC runner will attest to that being the best part of the course.
