Spotlight: Katelyn Cavanna-Dunham

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  Wednesday, Friday and Sunday for new updates on who will be spotlighted and get to know your teammates...(each person is picked at random)

My Nana, Cathleen “Cass” Keating was one of the funniest, kindest and smartest women I ever knew. She was tough-as-nails, but also the sweetest grandmother a kid could ask for. Her laugh warmed your soul and I miss it every day. I also miss just watching her and my PopPop, who had a storybook romance. Even the biggest of cynics could see it, as they would take impromptu twirls around the kitchen while cooking dinner. Watching Cass suffer with Alzheimer’s was extremely painful for my family, especially for PopPop. We lost him a year after she passed away to a heart failure. He was literally heart broken.

Watching ny Naana lose herself a bit more every day was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to watch. One morning while we were visiting her and my PopPop she was so there - completely Cass. And then it was like a switch went off and she was gone. She came back an hour later and was completely terrified. I remember hearing her cry in the bedroom asking PopPop if what happened to her dad was happening to her. He didn’t lie to her and the sobs that followed still haunt me today.

My mom’s side of the family is all too familiar with Alzheimer’s. It has taken my Nana, her father and her grandfather. Nana was one of five sisters - three have passed away from Alzheimer’s. My Nana was able to say goodbye to all of them, but the last one... well, neither one of them knew who the other one was. What’s fair about that? A disease that makes you forget the people who are most important in your life? Makes you forget you?

I often say I hope I get Alzheimer’s if it somehow spares me watching my mother, father or brother go through it. It’s a morbid thought, I know. A thought that I’m happy to report has changed since I began running with this team last year. Maybe, just maybe, if we keep running and keep fundraising I won’t have to wish for an outcome because we can beat this horrible disease.

When the marathon was canceled last year I was devastated. I had trained so hard for my first marathon and I couldn’t wait to cross the finish line in purple. I even had special shoes made “For Cass.” I was extra disappointed since I knew I would be moving to Boston and would no longer have that feeling of running through my whole city and crossing that finish line I used to live ten blocks from. But you know what? New York is still my city and I’m still running for Cass. The shoes might be different but the goal is the same. After watching the Boston marathon this year, a few fire was lit under me. Not only to run in NYC but to go cheer on those runners next year in Boston. And I know the feeling is the same in New York. Canceling the race was the right thing to do and those who suffered through Sandy will be there to cheer us on this year. And so will Cass.

I’m so proud of each and every one of you. We’re doing this thing again! This time we’ll complete it. And then we’ll keep going because we don’t stop until we beat Alzheimer’s. That I know for sure. Thank you for inspiring me to keep running and keep remembering. I cannot wait to cross the finish line with all of you!

Spotlight - Coach Brian - A RACE THAT NEVER ENDS...

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  Wednesday, Friday and Sunday for new updates on who will be spotlighted and get to know your teammates...(each person is picked at random) 

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose - The Wonder Years

On a cold spring morning in Washington DC, Brian sits to wait his turn to tell his story to Congress or anyone that is willing to listen about how young Americans need to be conscious of human life and to value every moment.  He pauses, recollecting every possible significant moment in his life.  There are so many memories that he has collected these past years, but one remains the most important….so, this is what he would say to those who would listen…

I quickly glance at my at my watch and the Alzheimer’s purple band that reads, “a reason to hope,” I see that I’ve been running for exactly 2 hours 15 minutes and 43 seconds, a pace of about 7 minutes and 20 second per mile. I have 6.2 more miles to go, I feel confident in finishing my first marathon! As I round the corner, tons of cheering people are clapping, but I’m starting to experience pain in my knees and hamstrings. I remind myself that this pain is only temporary, but my pride, my cause and my goal are forever. An adoring crowd member cheers my name, and I am reminded that my name is on the shirt I am wearing. A shirt that caries all the names of the different people that have donated will finish with me.  And most importantly a shirt that bears my Grandmother name who must struggle with the Alzheimer’s disease everyday of her life since she was diagnosed.  This was my reason and inspiration to hope.

In a century of flat screens and IPOD’s, where do we have time to think about anything, let alone, anyone but ourselves?  I’ve grown up in a generation of ‘take’, where ‘self’ and ‘mine’, overshadows ‘family’ and ‘ours’.  I have the opportunity to influence the younger generation as well as those older than me. I have experienced first hand the meaning of family and togetherness. 

In 2004, my grandmother was diagnosed with the Alzheimer's disease. She was 83 at the time and was close to the late stages of the disease.  My family was fortunate that she still had her long-term memory and recognizes all of us by name, but her short term memory had failed her and she struggled with basic needs such as bathing and consistently asking the same questions.  My family had to adjust to both helping her with her needs, as well as, witnessing the slow deterioration of the brain and its many functions on the human body.  While currently there is no known cure for Alzheimer’s, the spread of awareness and funding for research is one of the main benefactors that can still keep her in our hearts and millions more from this hereditary disease.

In 2009, I volunteered for the ING New York City Marathon and the main slogan was “one race, 37,000 stories.”   I compared that slogan to Alzheimer’s where 4 million (at the time) people are running a race that never ends. A disease where 100,000 people are affected each year and the cries and sorrows of their loved ones linger in the air.  Each and every one of us has a story; each of us has gone through both the physical and mental hardships and of course, the memories will never be forgotten. 

Life is about many precious moments of time, each person shares those moments with family, friends and all the acquaintances that we meet along the way.  As our life lingers, we get older and over time our memory starts to fade, but that comes with age.  We rely on pictures to recollect that precious time we shared together.

Now, imagine yourself waking up one morning to find that you do not know who your friends are, who your family members are and most importantly, who you are.  These are the realities of what the Alzheimer’s disease does to a person.  Usually, the disease affects elderly people, although there are more and more cases of this disease affecting the youth and parents. 

Every marathoner remembers their first marathon story. If they've run a lot, they might forget the details of other races, but the first marathon lives in their mind.  They will always remember what got them running in the first place and use the marathon to keep you inspired and to become an inspiration to others.  I could never imagine losing what I have around me, my loved ones, my memories and my first marathon.

By the end of 2013, I would have ran in about 43-45 marathons (conquering 30-33 states in 7 years), completed two or three, 100-milers, four (or five) 50-milers and three (or four) 60K’s…I run a whole lot! 

I know. 

Some ask, “what am I running away from?” 

I don’t know. 

But I know this…

In five years, my Alzheiimer’s team has raised over 1.6 million dollars to help find a cure for research and help their own and other families. 

Nine years ago (when my grandmother was living), my family was only able to help donate $2,500.  We thought we were alone.  We only ran for ourselves as I have learned that “if you build it, they will come.” 

I have a team that is 100+ this year, all raising money for the same cause.  Even through my grandmother has passed, I still fundraise for the other people on my team, for those who’s families suffer and for those families who are still wondering if they carry the disease within themselves and my own family…or even myself?

And they came, they inspire and they have and will conquer

…amazing huh? 

I think so…

They inspire me…