Operation Jack

Fighting autism, one mile at a time.

A Gift From Jack!

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Time drags on forever when you’re waiting on something — that extra day before your magazine comes in the mail, 15 extra minutes that you stand there waiting for your ride to pick you up, an hour sitting on the plane waiting for your delayed takeoff. Well yesterday, I finally got something I’d been waiting six years, four months and 16 days for … a hug from Jack!

I had already given him a kiss goodnight and I was downstairs making a phone call for work. As I sat there waiting on hold (those 10 minutes seemed like forever, too!), Tiff called me upstairs because I needed to see something. At bedtime, one of us typically lays next to Jack in his bed for five or 10 minutes, scratching his back or arms as he relaxes before going to bed. Well, last night, he put his arm around her up by her neck to hug her and wouldn’t let go. She wanted me to rush upstairs to see that, because he’s NEVER done that.

I got up to his room, and she wanted him to give her another hug, but he didn’t. After about a minute, though, he spontaneously looked at her and said “mommy”! He doesn’t do that. Ever. Tiff got pretty excited, and about 15 seconds later he looked over in my direction and said “daddy”! And no, he doesn’t ever do that, either!

We were completely shocked, in a good way. We know there’s something going on in there, and when something comes out, it’s exciting. We still look forward to the day that he talks with us and tells us what he’s thinking and interacts with us, Ben and Ava.

He wasn’t really giving Tiff a hug again, but I believed it. He wasn’t really letting her get up, so she asked him what he wanted. When we prompt him with “what do you want?” we usually get a muffled answer that helps us know what he wants. He’ll say “drink”,”chip”,”cookie”,”push play” and a few other things like that in his cute, muffled voice.

But last night, in response to the question, he said “I want Daddy”! As you can probably guess, that was the first time that ever happened, too. He didn’t have to ask twice. I went over to give him a hug, but he beat me to the punch, giving me the same neck-lock he gave Tiff a few minutes earlier. And he wouldn’t let go. He was giving me kisses and pulling me tight enough to bend my glasses a little bit. All the while, I still had the phone on hold, prepared to hang up if I actually got to a live person at that time.

That was the first hug I’ve ever gotten from him. It’s pretty hard to explain what it’s like to have virtually no emotional interaction from your child towards you for six years, but I’ve become pretty numb to it all. We’ve known that there are plenty of thoughts going on inside his head, but it’s really encouraging to see things like this. We know better days are ahead, and with signs like this, we’re still optimistic that they’re not too far off.

After a few minutes, he let go to go to sleep and I went downstairs, still listening to the hold music on my phone call. After a few minutes, I finally spoke to someone and resolved my issue. For once, I wasn’t bothered while waiting a few extra minutes.

A Great Woman …

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It’s so cliché to say that behind every great man is a woman. But I won’t say that for two reasons. One, I’m going to talk about me and my wife and I’m not going to call myself a great man. And two, I prefer to use the word “beside”.

For those of you new here, I’m a father of three and a marathon runner. My middle child, 6-year-old Jack, is severely autistic, and I decided I wanted to try to make a difference in his honor. So, my crazy idea is to run 60 marathons this year to try to raise money and awareness for a charity I’m a part of called Train 4 Autism. I named this Operation Jack and I’m hoping people will jump on the train when it comes to town. I started brainstorming in 2008 and launched it January 1 in Kingwood, Texas. One down, 59 to go.

And for those of you new here, I tend to occasionally use this space to profess my love and appreciation for my bride Tiffany. Today is one of those occasional days.

This Operation Jack thing wears us down. It’s a ton of work, but we’re seeing results and we’re optimistic this is going to have a wonderful impact. It’s exhausting, though, and we’re only in the second week. Tiff feels like she’s on the sideline, but I know this would absolutely not be possible without her. WE are doing Operation Jack. Not just me. I have my role, but she is the glue that holds five lives together.

The latest example was obvious to me last night. I’ve been spending a lot of time lately with a newspaper that’s planning on running a very nice story about Operation Jack. This will hopefully do a great job spreading the word and should be a big positive for what we’re trying to accomplish. She provided a huge role in helping me work with them to get this done.

Last night, I spent more than two hours with the photographer, taking some pictures and doing an interview on video. While I was doing this, she was taking care of the kids. That might not sound like a lot, but it involved driving Benjamin around, bathing Jack and Ava, helping calm Jack when he had a meltdown, playing with the kids and keeping them quiet for us, putting them to sleep, etc.

This morning, I came in 30 minutes late from my run because I was working with the photographer again. I had about 10 minutes to get ready and out the door to get Jack to school on time. She had the kids all squared away, she had breakfast and coffee and lunch ready for me, and she didn’t complain at all. Basically, she provided amazing support and kept everything running without skipping a beat. I didn’t like coming in so late, but I knew she’d have everything under control.

It might sound like such typical tasks, but it was chaos that was well managed and it made a big difference in allowing me to work with the photographer, which is what Operation Jack needd. It’s a perfect example of how she has a critical role in this. She’ll say it’s no big deal, because that what she’s supposed to do, but I know that as a team, we have a ton of work to do and we get it done together.

She selflessly runs herself into the ground to support everything we’re doing as a family. So if you support what Operation Jack is trying to accomplish, just know that it would not be possible without her and she’s a huge part of this. That’s why I prefer to use the word “beside” instead of “behind”. She truly is beside me and we’re getting this done together.

Crazy Weekend, Coming Right Up!
I have a double this weekend, running Jackson, Miss. on Saturday, then Mobile, Ala. the next day. There’s going to be a lot of commotion involved with this one and I don’t know how I’m going to crawl out of bed on Monday morning. But I will. And I’m going to post a blog that’s a play-by-play of what it was like to live in my nutty world for three days.

If you’re curious to see how I run on Saturday and Sunday, check back because I’ll post race reports here.

Beyond that, have a good weekend, everybody! Thanks for coming by and supporting Operation Jack!

I Got My Treat Three Days Before Halloween!

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Jack has been showing good signs of improvement lately, but what I heard last Wednesday night really blew my mind.

First, though, I’ll talk briefly about my running.

Standard introduction: If this is your first visit here, I’m a marathoner and a father of three — but not in that order. My middle child, 6-year-old Jack, is severely autistic and next year I’m planning on running 60 marathons in his honor to try to raise money and nationwide awareness for Train 4 Autism, a wonderful charity.

Running Update
I had a pretty solid week last week, with a training run on Tuesday that was the best training run I’ve had in seven months. I went 16.3 at 158 bpm (I run with a heart rate monitor) on my hills at 7:48/mile. That’s pretty darn close to the output I was getting right before I went 3:01 in Boston this year, so it felt nice to have a good run for once.

On Saturday, I had a nice 30-miler to cap off a week that was a few football fields shy of 86 miles. The 30 was about 20 seconds a mile quicker than my 30 a couple of weeks ago and I’m probably only about 10-15 seconds/mile slower that where I was at my peak. This morning, I decided to actually “run” again, and I went for 20.2 at 7:51/mile.

So, while I struggled with that five-week layoff this summer, it’s nice to start feeling like my old self again. I think I’m going to run a marathon this weekend. It’s a small, low-key affair in Huntington Beach, but it’s going to be a big deal to me. I’ll explain all of that on Thursday.

Hyperbaric Chamber Update
Jack and I went in for our third session in the hyperbaric chamber on Saturday. He’s getting better at it every time. He had no fear at all on Saturday, and he was willing to hold his mask up to his face for a portion of the time. It’s working pretty well for me with my recovery from my running and we’ve seen some pretty exciting improvements from Jack lately. Wow, what a perfect transition into the next item!

Jack Knows His Phone Number!
I got in last Wednesday night and Tiff told me I had to see something amazing with Jack. And wow, was she right! She asked him, “Jack, what’s your phone number?” And he recited my cell phone number! Now, don’t get me wrong — he’s not quite in the same class as Barack Obama as an orator. It’s a little difficult to understand. But this is an incredible step.

To remember 10 digits correctly and recite them is something we’ve never seen from him. Also, as a safety precaution, this is wonderful. He’s an eloper, which means he darts off and tries to run away for no reason sometimes. We never let go of him and he’s never been lost, but you never know. It’s good to know that if somebody asked him his phone number, he’ll answer.

He’s been showing little signs of progress here and there. I’m really hopeful that as I look back at these blogs in a year, I’ll be able to see how he progressed.

Thank You Surf City Runners!
As of last night, we were up to 28 people on our Surf City team! We crossed the magical 25 threshold and the marathon will donate a portion of our entry fees back to the charity! As you know, I’m nickel-and-diming my way to a (hopefully) big 2010, and this is really going to help. Just because we’ve hit 28 doesn’t mean we need to stop, though. We’ll still benefit from every new registrant. So, if you know anybody who wants to run the full marathon, half marathon or 5K, send them here and tell them to pick Operation Jack/Train 4 Autism as their team.

That’s All For Today
Have a great day. I think I’m going to try to post a blog tomorrow. I have a really cool race in Utah I want to talk about.

How I Met My Best Friend

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15 years ago today, I went on my first date with my Tiffany. You know, I feel like such a cheeseball using my blog to write something about my wife when the last blog I wrote last week was about my son. But there are two important things to take from that sentence: I’m a cheeseball, and it’s my blog!

On September 22, 1994, I was 19 and she was 18. Lucky for me, I waited a year to mail off my application to Kansas State University. I should have transferred out of my two-year college in two years. But on day one of my third year, I met the woman who I would marry.

Guys, you know how it is when you’re single in college. First day of class and you’re checking out the new ladies. Well, there she was and wow was she hot! Call me a pig, but wow was she hot! We were on the newspaper together. I was the sports editor and she was a newbie. I tricked her into taking a women’s volleyball story that she’d need help on. Sure enough, she freaked, and I was there for the rescue.

We spent a lot of time working on that story for a couple of weeks, and I’m pretty sure that nobody but the players on the team read it. But it did the trick and we became friends. During that first month while we were becoming friends, I used to drive her home from school. I always had a Motown CD in my car and I played this song every time:

Of course, she didn’t realize that until later. But I still wanted to put that video in the blog for her today!

Anyways, on September 21, after going to In-N-Out for a burger with some friends and then celebrating a mutual friend’s birthday, I drove her home and asked her out on a date (after 15 or so minutes of nervous stalling). The next night, we went on our first date. Dinner at a steak place called Buffalo Ranch (I spilled my entire salad on my lap and brushed it on the ground — oops!) and a walk on the beach. We clicked and we’ve been together ever since.


I didn’t know which picture to pick. I hope this one is OK.

We’ve had our ups and downs, betters and worses (I don’t think that’s a word, but you know what I’m saying). We were kids back then, and now we have three of our own. I know, it’s nothing unusual to be married, but I’ll always vividly remember picking her up for that first date in my freshly-detailed car with a dozen roses. If you would have told me that day that we’d end up sharing a life and a home and so many memories that I’m starting to forget a lot of them, I don’t know if I would have believed it.

She’s been an incredible wife and mother and as I always tell her, I feel truly blessed that I get to hold her hand on this roller coaster called “life” that we’re riding. The person you choose to be your parter has such a huge impact on how your life turns out, and as I look over at her while she watches TV and has no idea what I’m writing, I think “yeah, that was a good decision.”

Back in 1994 and 1995, one of my best friends always used to say, “There’s an @$$ for every seat” when talking about the two of us, and he’s right. We’re two peas in a pod, totally made for each other. We celebrate May 23 because that’s the day we made the lifetime commitment to each other back in 1999. But we celebrate September 22, because since that day in 1994, we’ve been best friends.

Happy Birthday To Jack!

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Today is Jack’s 6th birthday. It’s kind of depressing to me, because my sixth birthday is my earliest birthday that I can remember, so I can remember being his age. When I turned 6, I had a big party at Shakey’s Pizza for my entire first-grade class. On the flip side, last Friday — five days before his 6th birthday, Jack called me “Miss Anne” when I dropped him off at school. Even though he can’t read and probably won’t be able to by his next birthday, I decided that for my blog I’d write a letter to him as if he could understand it. Maybe I’ll save it and show it to him years down the road.

For those of you who have never been here, Jack is my son and he is severely autistic. I’m a marathon runner and in 2010, I’m going to try to run 60 marathons to raise money and awareness for a charity called Train 4 Autism. I’m hopeful that we can make a big difference in his honor.

Dear Jack,
I can’t believe you’re already 6 years old. You’re struggling right now with your autism, but you’ve had a great summer and I’m encouraged by your progress. For years, I’ve dreamed of being able to talk to you, and I still think that dream is going to come true. You’re really coming along and I’m excited about it. I’ve held out hope for a long time that you’ll have a breakthrough and someday live a life that’s close to typical. Part of me thinks that’s still possible, because you’re still only 6. But part of me does the math and knows you’re already 1/3 of the way to 18.

If you think I get frustrated taking care of you, you’re right. You’re very challenging. I wish you weren’t the way you are. A small part of that is because it makes things difficult for me, Mommy, Benjamin and Ava. But the biggest part of that is that it’s no fair for you to go through the challenges you face on a daily basis. You’re only a little kid. It breaks my heart. You didn’t ask for this.

I look at you and I get happy and sad at the same time. Like I said, it kills me that you suffer the way you do. You’re such a cute, sweet little kid. But I’m so glad God gave you to us. I couldn’t imagine you not in our life. Mommy and I talk all the time about how your autism makes things challenging for us. We look back at our wedding pictures and get sad, because we had no idea what we had coming. A year ago, we went to an engagement party for our friends Brian and Kelly, and Mommy cried when she saw them dancing, because she thought, “Who knows what the future holds for them? Will they have healthy children? Will they struggle like we do?”

But you know what? Mommy and I look at life as a roller coaster. We had no idea what the ride would be like, but we’re grateful that we get to ride it together and bring you along. This is the track we’re on, and only God has control. If this is what He wants for us, we’ll graciously accept it. We all pray every day for you to get better. I don’t know if you notice, but at family dinner, it doesn’t matter who leads the prayer — me, Mommy, Benjamin or Ava. The first thing we ask for is for you to get better. And we all still have faith that you will.

I look forward to the day that I can have a conversation with you. And the day I can take you to In-N-Out for a burger without putting you in a high chair. And the day we can go on a walk (or jog!) around the block. And the day we can play a game the right way. And the day we can watch something age-appropriate on television. I don’t care if anybody tells me to accept you the way you are right now — I still look forward to the day when things are better.

In the meantime, just know that I will always take care of you. Parents always take care of their children as much as necessary, but you can rest assured I will always have your back. There is nothing Mommy and I won’t do, and the rest of your family — your grandparents, uncles, aunts, etc. — feels the same way.

We’re going to have a party for you on Sunday. You won’t really know it’s a party for you — it will seem like just another play day at a new park. You won’t be able to eat the cake, because there’s dairy in the frosting. And you won’t be able to eat the pizza, because there’s dairy in the cheese. But everybody will be there because they love you. And just because you don’t know any different doesn’t mean we’re going to treat you like a second-class citizen. You deserve the best, and that’s what we’ll try to give you.

Jack, I really just want you to know how proud I am of you. You work so incredibly hard and you’re a sweet kid with a huge heart. Even though you don’t know today is your birthday, I hope you have a great day. I hope school goes well, I hope you enjoy your break from therapy, I hope you don’t have any meltdowns and I hope that whatever thoughts are going on inside your head are positive. Enjoy your day and have a great 7th year!

Love always,

Daddy