SPOTLIGHT: Deirdre Grant

Each week we will be picking members to spotlight to tell their Alzheimer's story and why they are running in this year's New York City marathon. Check in each Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday for new updates on who will be spotlighted and get to know your teammates...(each person is picked at random)

It started in the spring of 2000, or at least that's a milestone that I can specifically recall. I was a senior in high school, and our German exchange student was a vegetarian. My father kept offering her chicken.

Several years later it was confusion over what to do when the car was overheated at an exit off of 95 north. Years earlier, he could have single-handedly rebuilt the car. Now I was reminding him that the oil dipstick had nothing to do with it. Dad, you taught me as much.

And now I run. A lot.
I run for my father and for my mother. My mother is a full-time caregiver for her husband of nearly 40 years. She is in her mid-60s, he in his early-70s. They should be enjoying the golden years of their retirement, but their lives are far from that ideal. There are still many beautiful moments, but they live a life that one doesn't generally dare to imagine.

I run for my family and all of those like mine. I run for all the inspiring caregivers out there and the people they love.

I run to feel the burn in my legs, only to push harder, as if that will show this nasty disease who is boss. It won't make it go away--or maybe it can.

I've pledged to run and raise thousands of dollars as part of a team of incredible individuals who support an organization that shares our collective vision and goal for the future—a world without Alzheimer's disease.

The money raised will fund programs to support caregivers like my mother; it will contribute to research efforts, which likely will not come in time to help my father, but may spare others the ravages of this disease.

In September, I will travel to Nova Scotia with my parents to spend a week in the small rural town where my father grew up. We will walk down the proverbial memory lane, meeting with old friends and family who will share stories, good food and laughter—and I will log my training miles past the site of my father’s old school house, the field where his grandmother's barn once stood tall and other icons of his childhood. He may not remember much, but the details from others will become part of our collective memory, so the stories will endure.

These stories and images will be part of the narrative that runs through my head during the hours it will take to pound out 26.2 miles on the streets of New York this November 6^th.

Can’t wait.