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.

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.

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

Yesterday was my Grandpa Milt’s 86th birthday. I was blessed to be able to visit him for a little get-together at his house. I love seeing him and I’m grateful for every opportunity. So, what does this have to do with Operation Jack? Well, in honor of my grandpa, I’m going to explain how we named Jack. There’s a definite connection between the two.

For those of you who are new here, I’m a marathoner and the father of three kids. My middle child, who will turn 6 next month, is severely autistic. I’m going to race (well, try to race) 60 marathons in 2010 to try to raise national awareness for a charity called Train 4 Autism. My son’s name is Jack and every time I blog, I want to try to tell you guys a little bit more about him.

Anyways, today, I’ll tell the story of how we named him.

Running Update
Today is my 16th consecutive day not running. That makes sense, huh? I’m getting over an ankle sprain, and I think it’s wise to be conservative. If I needed to run a marathon today, I could. But I don’t have to run one today. I have to run 60 next year. So, I want to be 100%. If I start next year on a bum ankle, it’s not going to get better and I’m going to be in a lot of pain the whole way.

I’m going to physical therapy three times a week, doing exercises at home and icing so much I’m feeling like a polar bear. But it’s getting better. And I’m absolutely going to run next year. I’m probably a week or so away from running again. Speaking of frozen, ….

Ice Cream Update
I like ice cream. A lot. Yesterday, I finished off the peanut butter fudge swirl. I’m now at 47 consecutive days eating ice cream or frozen yogurt. I have no idea when my next day off will be. Kind of weird that I have streaks of not running and eating ice cream going at the same time. But I’m kind of weird. So there.

How We Named Jack
The way I see it, Tiff carried the babies for nine months, so the least I could do was let her name them. All I asked for was veto power. She threw out a couple of names and then she threw out the name “Jack” if it was going to be a boy. My dad’s grandfathers were named Jimmy and Jack, but I always got confused about which one was my grandfather’s dad and which one was my grandmother’s dad. They both died in the early 1960s and I was born in 1974.

Well, my grandpa Milt (my dad’s dad) is probably the nicest person I’ve ever met. I’ve met plenty of nice people in this world, but my grandpa … what the heck, I play favorites! Anyways, I called up my dad and asked him if that was my grandpa’s father, and sure enough, it was. So I told Tiff I was totally on board with Jack — that was by far my name of choice if it was a boy. I wanted to honor my grandpa by naming my son after his father. Tiff and I were in total agreement, so Jack it was.

A month or two later, we had the ultrasound and found out the baby was a boy. I called my grandpa up and told him the baby was going to be a boy. He was excited to hear that. Then, I told my grandpa that we were going to honor him by naming the baby Jack, after his father.

Grandpa Milt doesn’t have the greatest hearing. I think part of that is because he’s been married to my Grandma Bea for 65 years. I’ve only been married for 10 years, and I know I’ve been working on losing my hearing so that the nagging doesn’t bother me. I can’t imagine how silent the world will sound in 55 more years.

Anyways, I told him about the name, he asked me to repeat myself, so I did. He started stuttering and couldn’t talk, then started crying and had to hang up the phone. Yeah, he was happy.

So, Jack was born and it was surreal to my grandpa when he came to visit in the hospital, because he got to hold Jack Felsenfeld. That was his dad’s name. He told me in the hospital (while fighting back tears, of course) that he had been sitting in his backyard the night before and he was looking up in the sky and talking to his dad. He says he saw a star flickering and he knows his dad heard him.

The first Jack Felsenfeld died in the 1960s of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS/Lou Gehrig’s Disease). While in college, I worked quite a bit with my fraternity, Phi Delta Theta, to raise money for ALS research. That’s our national philanthropy. Now, raising money for Train 4 Autism will hit home with my grandparents, too. They have three sons: Alan, Robert (my dad) and Martin. My Uncle Marty (now 49 years old) has autism and is a happy guy, but hasn’t lived a mainstream life.

I won’t get into many details about my Uncle Marty here, but when I first heard that Jack had autism, I knew all about it because I’ve seen it my whole life. I was pretty shocked that I had a son who might be like my uncle. He’s actually probably a little more severe than my uncle, which is something I don’t do a great job of coming to terms with. But whatever.

I’ve always been pretty close to my grandparents, but this has created a completely new bond. I would have never thought that we’d get real solid parenting advice from my 80-something grandparents at this age, but we have. They’ve been through what we’re going through, and now we’re seeing a different side of them that I’ve never seen. I have a better understanding of my grandparents and a new bond with them.

So, that’s the family history of where Jack got his name. I know y’all were dying to know!

Help Wanted!
I’m not hiring, but I will take volunteers! Anybody want to help me bring more people into Operation Jack? No cost to anybody, no obligation. I just figure that the more people who know, the more who will participate. So, if you’re on Facebook, go to the Operation Jack Fan Page and send it to your friends! See the image below … it’s pretty easy stuff.

Also, if you register here at operationjack.com, it will help me keep in touch with you as we get closer to next year. I’m not going to pressure you (I’m not a salesman, that’s for sure), but I’ll have more Operation Jack-specific information for registered users. Of course, no obligation, no cost, and your information isn’t going anywhere.

Operation Jack Shirts & Stuff
I established fundraising levels for t-shirts, tech shirts, sweatshirts, track jackets and things that go beyond that. Check the sponsors page for all the details.

Save The Date
Not totally sure of the details right now, but we’re looking at having an Operation Jack fundraiser in Southern California on October 17. It’s probably going to be a barbecue and we’re going to keep it affordable to get more of you to attend. Just like Operation Jack, we’re looking for participation from a lot of you, not just big help from a small crowd. It’s a team effort. I’m just the guy writing the blog.

So, if you’re in Southern California, I’d love to have you there. We’re probably going to do it in Ladera Ranch, but maybe in Lake Forest. My wife is in charge of this and I’ll have more info fairly soon, but if you have any questions, comments or suggestions, let me know!

Video Of The Day
Two good friends of mine, Debbie and Melissa, are on board with Operation Jack and running the 1/2 marathon in Carlsbad, Calif. next January. They’re excited about doing this and they want to do it for Jack. I’ve known them both for close to 20 years, but it still blows my mind that they want to do this. It’s totally surreal, and yeah, I know I use those words every day. And speaking of totally surreal, I got an email last week from a friend of mine named Dan that left me speechless. Still don’t really know what to say. I was listening to music while working yesterday afternoon, and I heard this song come on, and I thought, hmmmm … yeah, I can grab that and dedicate the video of the day to them.

Have A Great Day/Week/Weeks/???
I’m not sure when I’ll blog again. Probably not for another few days or maybe a week or two. Try not to work as hard as I have to right now. See you soon!