In August of 2025, my father, Richard, passed away suddenly from a heart attack. He was only 59 years old, with no prior history of heart problems; a reminder that heart disease can strike any of us, at any time. This October, I'm running the Chicago Marathon in his memory, and to help ensure fewer families experience the loss that mine did.
My dad was the light of my world. You would be hard-pressed to find a man who got more enjoyment out of living. Every new place, friend, or experience brought light to his eyes, just as he brightened the people around him in those moments. If you asked me what trait of my father’s that I am most proud of to inherit, it’s the wonderment, and sometimes bewilderment, of the world around him. He taught me to see life not just as a series of stresses, but as a series of small adventures.
As I was sifting through his mountain of paperwork after he passed, I was lucky enough to come across a letter that he wrote on behalf of one of his clients. She was at risk of losing her coverage due to one life circumstance or the other, and Dad made it his duty to ensure that she was able to continue on. That defines who he was: he had a heart that tried to move mountains for those in his circle--no matter how far from the epicenter they were.
Losing him so suddenly has been one of the hardest things I've ever faced. I miss his smile, his sense of humor, and sharing the small minutia of my day-to-day with him. Heart disease remains the leading cause of death in the United States, but so much of it is preventable. The American Heart Association funds critical research, education, and community programs that save lives every day.
Running 26.2 miles won't be easy, but every step will carry my dad with me. I'm asking you to join me in turning grief into action; any donation, no matter the size, helps fund lifesaving research and brings us closer to a world with fewer sudden goodbyes.
Thank you for being part of this journey with me.
With gratitude,
Tanner
