I’ve gone and done something really foolish. And I couldn’t be more excited/terrified/nervous/exhausted at the thought of it. I’m running the 2025 Bank of America Chicago Marathon. And it’s all Miranda’s fault. Actually, we can sort of blame this one on Kevin too, so let me tell you a bit about him first.

Kevin Rosen is my brother-in-law. Has been since the year 2000 when he married my sister, Judi. It was one of the happiest days of my life, which you’d understand if you a) knew Kevin and b) had met some of the guys Judi had previously dated. You see, Kevin is a catch. A mensch. Amazing. He is kindness personified. Compassionate. Patient. Funny. He’s the best thing that ever happened to Judi. And he has ALS.

ALS - amyotrophic lateral sclerosis - is a progressive, 100% fatal neuromuscular disease that slowly robs the body of its ability to walk, speak, swallow, and breathe. Also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease, the average life expectancy of a person with ALS is 2-5 years. Kevin’s symptoms began just over 5 years ago. 

Sadly, Kevin is not alone. Far from it. In the US, every 90 minutes someone is diagnosed with the disease and every 90 minutes someone loses their battle with it. ALS knows no racial, ethnic, or socioeconomic boundaries. For those who have ALS and those who care for and love them, it’s the f*cking worst. 

Knowing what lies ahead for Kevin, Miranda (his niece, my daughter) and I talked about him as we watched the Chicago Marathon runners back in October. Kevin used to run marathons. Willingly. Enthusiastically. He never made it to the one that practically cuts across our front yard here in Chi-town. So Miranda, having never run a race before, decided to do it on his behalf. She formed “Team Kevin.” Then she planted the seed for me to join her. And here we are.  

Together, we’re raising awareness and money for ALS United. We’re bringing a glimmer of hope to those battling ALS and helping to fund research, advocacy, and much-needed services for families…free of charge. 

Despite his diagnosis, Kevin’s outlook is positive. The words “anything wonderful can happen” are stuck to his refrigerator door. And he’s right. (He often is). So, as I train for this crazy marathon I ask you to make something wonderful happen for everyone touched by ALS today and those who may face it in the future. Please donate to Team Kevin, and if you’re local, come cheer us on.