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Monthly Archives: June 2011

RACE REPORT: 061 Sharkfest Alcatraz Swim: 59:46

Posted on June 29, 2011 by admin Posted in All, Race Reports, Swimming 5 Comments

My friend Todd wanted me to swim from Alcatraz to the mainland, ‘Escaping Alcatraz’ in ‘shark infested waters’ essentially. I of course, signed up immediately.

SIDENOTE: This story is all about Adventure!

We left for San Francisco Wednesday night at 4:30PM out of JFK.

I shot a picture of some of our wall clocks… they always feel so welcoming.

We were flying Virgin America and I was instantly sold (being the digital master mind that I am) on their touch screen ordering system. You can order movies, TV shows, snacks, and yes… booze. You can actually start a tab and when you order a flight attendant quickly arrives procuring your ordered beverage. Amazing! Todd and I took full advantage of everything they had to offer and by the time we landed and our friend Buerkle (Kris Buerkle, but we call him Buerkle much like everyone calls me Baker) picked us up we were quite a handful.

Never having been to San Fran my eyes were a gaze at the beautiful scenery. Our first stop (after dropping our things off in Buerkle’s apartment in the Mission) was to get some Mexican food. It did not disappoint. One thing I noted was the temperature. It was like 55 degrees! Wasn’t it summer? Isn’t this Cali -forn-I-A?

Waking up at 6AM, the three of us set off for a white water rafting adventure. It was a 2-3 hour drive out East (weird saying that being from the East Coast) to Coloma. Gold was first discovered there along the river at the famous Sutter’s Mill.

I was taking in all the scenery, especially the mountains and all the different variety of trees! We are really missing out over here.

Arriving late to the white water rafting instruction seminar we had to quickly get in gear. We made a fantastic decision to rent wetsuits (since the American River’s water temperature was around 45 degrees.) Our raft guide would be Taylor, a very experienced 24 year old native. After some basic WWR instruction, helmet and life jacket checks, we set off down the river which normally outputs 1,200 cu ft/s of water was pushing 6,000 cu f/s! It was moving so fast! I was half excited and half fearful of this knowledge.

There were 7 of us in our raft… me, Todd, Buerkle, Taylor, Mike (55), his girlfriend Kate (50?) and daughter Michaela (12). We would come to learn that Michaela kicked some serious ass for being only 12. I sat front left in the beginning and as we hit our first Class 2,3 Rapids I took (along with Buerkle) a barrage of ice water to my torso, knocking me back. It was basically awesome. All of us quickly adapted and by the time we hit the Class 4 Rapids we felt like nothing could stop us.

For those of you who have not WWR before here is a bit of what happens. Just like the movies, you hear the water before you see it. Then, the raft speeds up and you enter the churning white water, paddling forward, left, right, or ‘holding on’ as Taylor would often instruct us so we didn’t get swept off the raft. In the front of the boat, it was much like being at sea where the nose would dip straight down into the rapid, then blast through the top portion of the waves, soaking those in front with an icy blast! Occasionally, we would hit giant swells sideways and get bumped around, talking on waves from different angles.

This was a 21 mile excursion down the South Fork of the American, so lunchtime was a destination, thank god. The 5 rafts of our company pulled over around 12:30 and we had a picnic lunch on the bank of the river.

SIDENOTE: This was absolute wilderness. From the start of the trip we were traveling down huge gorges and valleys where we might occasionally see a house on a cliff, but otherwise it felt very Wild West. This is going to sound really messed up (blame Hollywood) but I was imagining a bow and arrow attack from the banks of the river and what I would do in such a circumstance.

Once we were fueled up, our team was raring to go and wanted some big rapids. Taylor delivered, sending us down rapids called ‘Ambulance Chaser’ ‘Satan’s Cesspool’ and ‘Recovery Room’. It really was so amazing.

At one point as we pulled over to wait for the other rafts, Taylor noticed some trash in the river and picked it up. It was an unopened Coors Light Beer, ICE COLD! Todd, Buerkle and I shared it of course.

As our ride ended we lashed the rafts together to be towed in to shore. The kayaker who was riding along side of us jumped in our boat to get a ride and who was she? Louise Urwin from New Zealand, who is ranked like 9th in the world for down river kayaking! She was very cool and quite BA.

It took us 3 exhausting hours to drive back to San Fran. One highlight along the way was stopping at Ikeda’s Produce where I purchased what is as of now the best peach I have ever eaten. Perfection.

That night we ate a restaurant called Weird Fish. Oyster shooters, some Halibut, a lil Sav Blanc… everything the body needs… or maybe we were celebrating?

Friday morning Todd and I were on our own as Buerkle had to work. We went down the street to Tartine Bakery where I had the Morning Bun and an amazing cup of coffee! Tartine rules.

We then went to Union Square (yes, there is another!) and I bought a track jacket since I thought California was perpetually warm before I arrived. Then, we rode the Cable Car (hanging on the outside like in the movies and Rice-a-Roni Ads) all the way to Fisherman’ Wharf. We were now on ‘Special Mission: Eat Crabs.’ After cruising Pier 39 we decided on The Crab House as our choice restaurant. Sitting down at 11:45AM (we were on a Mission mind you) we ordered a beer and then something strange happened. The power went out… on the whole Pier! After eating our Crab Bisque we left in search of new electrified accommodations since power would not be restored until 2:30PM.

SIDENOTE: This would not be the last time we would loose power on this trip.

We made a quick decision to go to the Franciscan (est. 1957) where I met this guy. I would eat him and love every moment of it.

After lunch we met Todd’s friend Ingrid who showed us around Crissy Field. Locals were running, biking, wind surfing, swimming and having picnics. It was quite a cool place.

That night we found our self at a dive bar playing pool. The place was awesome and it was a clear realization for me that the New York I moved to 11 years ago was dead. This place made me feel like I was trolling the East Village in 2000 again, playing pool for fun yet thinking ‘I could get my ass kicked in this place for ordering the wrong drink’.

For dinner we went to the Noe neighborhood to a place called Lupa. It was right by Twin Peaks so of course we had to climb them.

Fueling up on some top notch Italian food, we felt ready for the swim. We were in bed by 11PM.

RACE DAY

Battle Stations were called at 6:30AM. After some quick oatmeal prepped by chef Buerkle we set out to Escape from Alcatraz (which is funny because we had to get to Alcatraz first).

Arriving at check-in we came to the visual realization that there were 1000 swimmers! This made me happy because it meant that the ratio of crazy people to normal people was not as tipped as thought. After putting our wetsuits on in the 52 degree air, we marched off to the ferries that were to ship us to Alcatraz.

I felt pretty good and really wasn’t that scared or nervous. I guess experience plays a role in that now as well as the fact that I do not believe in impossibilities.

2 ships took us across the Bay. We slowly turned around and anchored a hundred feet off the shore of Alcatraz Island before we all filed off out of the 2 side exits each ship had, swimming toward the front.

SIDENOTE: Many have asked me why we couldn’t jump off the actual island. The only answer I have is that I have no idea how 1,000 swimmers could all start a swim race on a rocky shoreline.

Once all of us were in the water and bobbing around in the 58 degree (cold!) water, they set off the start horn. No one told us where to sight, so we asked some veteran swimmers. Even though they gave us some answers, swimming toward tiny buildings in the distance and not even seeing the finish line makes it tricky. I’m used to orange buoys and yellow triangles.

This was the first time I actually practiced what I preached and started very slow and in a non-panicky ‘have to win this’ way. I simply just started swimming with the proper form Sean had been teaching me and began my journey. It’s funny, in a triathlon, bike or running race my head is in a totally different place. A competitive place, set on winning. When I am just swimming, I am so relaxed and chill, just enjoying myself. Maybe that’s the problem? Maybe I need t get more aggressive?

The water tasted great! I mean come on, swim the Hudson or East River a few times and I may have been swimming in Veuve Clicot. Mmmmmmm…

After 5 minutes the cold water was no longer a concern, I was in form and just plugging away and I really felt confident and fluid. I started pretending I was actually an escaped prisoner and how awesome i would be if I made it to shore.

Halfway through the swim we were in the middle of the Bay and confronting 2-3 foot rolling swells. It felt fun while swimming but if you sighted during one you got a face full of ocean. At one point I couldn’t see land, only the Bay Bridge to my left and the Golden Gate to my right. It was at this point I thought I saw a seal swimming next to me (which was obviously my imagination) and then started picturing sharks underwater watching me. I quickly thought of other ‘happier’ things to occupy my mind.

As San Francisco got closer, it got more and more confusing on where the entrance to the finish was. Then, a lone kayaker yelled at me, informing me I needed to swim to the left hard because I was drifting off-course. I said, “Just tell me where to aim.” He sent me perpendicular to the course I had been following, and I aimed for a Naval Vessel. I fought the current hard for at least 10 minutes and at times I felt like I was on a water treadmill.

Eventually, the sea wall came closer and I was able to take a right into the cove. Then, as I joined my peers again, someone kicked me right in the temple. Nice to see you too swim friend. The finish was in sight and I just stayed the course and wrapped up this escape. The bottom of my wetsuit pants were totally falling down and I’m sure my finish photo is hilarious. (Brightroom took it so I’m sure I’ll get it in the next month or two…)

My time was 59 minutes and change. Am I happy about it? Not really, but I am just excited at the thought of Escaping Alcatraz (and we didn’t get eaten by sharks!)

I walked over and met Todd (47 minutes) and Buerkle (42 minutes) and had a few high fives!

Later that day Todd and I set off to Saulsalito (Buerkle had plans) to have lunch at the famed Fish restaurant. It’s north of San Fran on the water and quite beautiful. After feasting there on crabs, clam chowder and tuna white bean salads we headed to Muir Woods to ‘deactivate the deflector shield.’

Redwood Trees and Return of the Jedi, nuff said. Unfortunately, there were no Ewoks hanging around.

Next up we drove the coast to Stinson Beach. It’s another amazing place. Fun Fact: Great Whites breed off shore from this beach. Fun!

We linked back up with Buerkle and his friend Jenny for drinks and food later that night. We stopped in to play some pool at a bar called Gestalt. Guess what happend when we were there? The power went out! Seriously, how strange is that?! The day before at Pier 39 and now in the Mission.

For dinner we went to a place called Locanda which was awesome! The Pride Parade was right out front so we had some serious entertainment through dinner. Todd and I hopped an 11PM red eye back to NYC, saying goodbye to San Fran.

All-in-all the trip to the west was superb. I have a new found love for the Northern California Coast and recommend it to anyone looking for some adventure.

SIDENOTE: Big ups to Neal of the Runner Army who was in San Diego swimming the La Jolla Pier to Cove Swim. In his words “This was my first ocean open water race ever, my first swim-only open water race, my longest swim race ever, and my first swim-only race of any sort in 22 years!”

Way to represent the East Coast, Runner Army!

1.6 Miles Alcatraz San Francisco

First annual ‘Run for Bruce’

Posted on June 20, 2011 by admin Posted in All, Fitness, Race Reports, Running, Training: Running 3 Comments

Following the death of my father a few weeks ago, I have been overwhelmed with the amount of love that has come my way. It’s really quite amazing. One gesture, made by Samantha with the help of Abbe, was to have a run in honor of my Dad. It was in this way that ‘Run for Bruce’ was born.

—
The night before the run Abbe, Samantha and I went to Sweet Revenge to indulge a little bit. They serve wine and cupcake pairings. I know what you’re thinking, ‘Awesome!’


It was a great way to end the week and I recommend it to any lover of sweets.

Saturday was beautiful. I set off at 10:30AM to run a quick 3 miles before the Run for Bruce which would add another 5.5 miles to the equation. Arriving at Columbus Circle (our starting point) I was greeted with numerous friends and family, 35 in all!

SIDENOTE: My step mom Christine and step bro Patrick were also running, but in Virginia.

We set off along 59th Street, making a bee line for the West Side Greenway. My brother Jeff and Joey D took off, leading the way.


Unfortunately, starting a run at 11AM in the middle of June means HEAT! We were all sweating like crazy and stopping at water fountains where ever they were available.

I was bouncing around talking to everyone as I ran, it was really great. Eventually, I set into pace with my cousin Cat and friend Anna. We were trucking pretty good for the last 2 miles for sure.


The run ended at PJ Clarkes in Battery Park for lunch and beers. Jeff ended up being first with Joey D right behind. Slowly all the runners trickled in. PJ’s gave us a whole section so our loud-stinky-runner-ness didn’t disturb the normal people.

We all ate, drank and were very merry  from 12-3PM.

SIDENOTE: Claire left and ran another 4 miles! Go Runner Army!

To be straight-up and honest, it was awesome. The amount of people who showed up, and the fun we had running in memory of my Dad was really fantastic. Thanks to all my friends and family who came out for the run, it really meant a lot.

“All you need is love.”

I leave you with Alice, my friends Anna and Danny’s adorable little girl. She says she is going to run it next year.

Bruce Dad NYC

RACE REPORT: 060 Lavaman Triathlon: 1:13:17

Posted on June 13, 2011 by admin Posted in All, Fitness, Race Reports, Triathlon 1 Comment

The Lavaman Sprint Triathlon would mark my first triathlon for the 2011 season. I was very excited.

Friday night right after work I met Mike and Ed of the ‘Dad Posse’ by Penn Station and we hopped a train to Little Silver, NJ. We popped a few Coronas and caught up on life.

After a brief stint at Mike’s place in Little Silver we headed south to Belmar. We were meeting Jim (he was driving down with our bikes) at a place called Klein’s Fish Market. Klein’s ‘wowed’ all of us with their dockside seating, fresh fish and beach vibe. Personally, I was having a little slice of heaven, a.k.a…. steamed clams.

SIDENOTE: The waitress was cracking us up. She kept forgetting to bring us things (like forks) and proceeded to drop an entire beer in my lap. As it went down it also took some clam butter with it. We all just laughed and made the best of it. Yes, those jeans are in the laundry now.

We made it to Granny’s house (Jim’s grandma) by 11PM. Her house literally sits right on the bike course, it’ so perfect!

RACE DAY

Waking up at 5:30AM is never easy, especially on a Saturday morning. After a quick cup of Cafe Bustelo, we set out on our bikes to ride the 1/8th of a mile to the start.

After check-in and setting up transition we all walked the beach to get to the swim start which was half a mile from transition. We jumped in the bay with 15 minutes until start. The water was perfect! The 3 of us bobbed around close to the start, but not too close as I couldn’t stand in the deeper water… Ed and Jim have a couple inches of height on me. A fist bump and then the start sounded.

The men start was about 200 people and it was pretty rough swimming. For some reason, I was enjoying it. I was pushing legs out of my face and getting my feet tickled by countless other swimmers.

SIDENOTE: Although it has only been 2 weeks since the Great Hudson River Swim, I felt 1 million times stronger, more confident and happy to be in the water swimming.

I really dug in and was focused on my form, stretching my body’s length and pulling the water. Running out of the bay, I unzipped my suit and was doing a good job of undressing while I ran.  Normally, my wetsuit top gets caught on my head and I’m running like a blind man into things.

I was in 141st place out of the swim.

Jumping onto my bike, my legs were ready to unlock and get some speed going. The first place female (who is the sickest female bike rider I have ever seen) was riding along side of me for a mile or so before she made her assault and disappeared.

The bike course is 3 loops with 180 degree turns at each end so you can see who you are chasing and who is chasing you! I was pushing really hard and passing a lot of people. I think once I hit the second lap my legs were really fired up and cranking. I set my eyes forward and just cranked.

During the bike I got so focused on passing people I realized I wasn’t enjoying the ride, or the scenery. I thought to myself, have fun, relax! You love bike riding, so take it all in, not just the chase! And I did.

As I was finishing up my bike, I saw a few guys starting the run. They easily had 5 minutes and I tried to do the math on what it would take to catch them. “Run like an animal.”

Coming out of transition onto the run course I could feel someone on my ass. I let him pass me but kept him in my sights. My legs were a bit wonky (mostly my quads) and the first mile I chased him and tried to get my legs into run mode. At mile 2 that’s exactly what happened. I felt awesome and had no pain. It was at this point that the guy I was tailing started to slow up and look tired.

I caught him and I guess since I was in a pretty happy mood I yelled “C’mon Penn (he had a Penn Cycling hat on) let’s do this!” I flanked him and he held on to my pace. He told me we ran mile 1 in 5:30 which might have been a bad idea. I assured him it was a great idea and that we only had a few miles to go.

Together, we started passing a lot of runners. At one pint Ed was on the other side of the run course and yelled “Yea Baker! Go!” Penn was like “Are you on some kind of a team?” “No, those are just my buddies. We are out for a fun time.”

We didn’t do too much talking during our attack on the run course, but every once in awhile Penn would tell me were were hitting 6 minute miles, which I was happy about. When Mile 3 approached, I yelled to him, “1 to go, lets see how many more guys we can pick off!” He smiled and looked ahead, saying “We definitely got those 2! Lets go.”

I felt a weird presence during the last 800 meters or so, and then I realized some guy was chasing US down! I yelled to Penn that we need to step it up, we were being tailed. We finished with the guy literally steps behind us, but we held him off! It was also the first time I didn’t have the need to sprint the finish like I normally do. I guess I was just enjoying the company.

Total time: 1:13

Penn came in 19th and I was 20th.

 

Sex/

Age

Age

Place

Overall

Place

Swim

0.4M

T1 Bike

12.5M

T2 Run

4M

Total

Time

M33 5
20
12:03 1:18 35:06 0:52 23:56 1:13:17

I immediately went to the water station and slammed a few cups. Penn came over and introduced himself. His name was Eric. He thanked me for helping him out back at Mile 2 when he was fatigued. I in turn, thanked him as he kept my pace up as well.

The first place female was hanging out in the tent too and I gave her a congrats. She crushed it.

I then went over the finish line to cheer and wait for the guys. Jim finished, followed by Ed.

All of us had a really great time out there! What a great start to the season!

Next up is the ‘Run for Bruce’ this Saturday.
—

This year marks the inaugural Memorial run for Bruce Baker. Join us at the starting line at Columbus Circle at 11AM. From there we will zip down the West Side Highway with a final destination of PJ Clarke’s on the Hudson (250 Vesey St, New York, NY, 10281) for food and libation.

Dad Posse Lavaman

In Memory of My Dad

Posted on June 6, 2011 by admin Posted in All, Fitness 26 Comments

On May 21st, my Dad passed away at age 59 after a 2 year battle with Lymphoma.

I questioned whether this was an appropriate place to write about such a heavy topic. My Dad was a huge inspiration for me in all of my races. He loved tracking my progress and hearing all the details afterward. He was also running way before I could.

Aside from all of that, his story needs to be told.

—

Thanksgiving was my Dad’s favorite holiday. He always compared it to Christmas, but without the pressure of buying or receiving gifts, you simply just ate and drank with your loved ones, plain and simple. My five brother’s and I (2 blood, 3 step) always looked forward to going back to Virginia to be there for that holiday because it was always a classy, no expenses spared event. Dad and my Bonus-Mom Christine were also very insistent that we join them.

On Thanksgiving 2008, we noticed my Dad acting mysterious, sneaking off to appointments. My family has no secrets and are quite in your face and so this was a red flag for us. My brothers and I just decided to call him out when he got back and sure enough he confessed to being at the doctors. He was going to wait to tell us. He had been diagnosed with Lymphoma, or more specifically for those interested B-Cell Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia, ‘CLL.’  In lay men’s terms, it disables the body from producing antibodies, therefore the patient cannot fight off infection.

We were saddened by this but did not despair. My Dad has always seemed invincible and health problems were of little concern to him for all his life. He would just get treatment and fight.


For those readers who didn’t personally know my Dad, just imagine an older, wiser version of me or my brothers. He was 100 percent optimistic and totally outgoing, befriending anyone. He had few enemies or people he disliked, so we knew if you fell into that category you must be truly evil. He ran, played piano, loved music, golf and his family. We had no doubt that he would crush this disease.

For the first half of 2009 he received treatment from John Hopkins. He had fantastic doctors and by mid-summer the Cancer was in remission.

To celebrate my brothers and I set up a ‘Dudes Weekend’ with Dad down at Bethany Beach, Maryland. We had a blast racing Go-Karts, playing mini-golf and teaching him how to Wii Bowl.

Life went on.

In Early 2010 his Cancer resurfaced, this time stronger.

After some serious consulting by many doctors, his end goal was to live out the rest of his days happy and healthy, whatever had to be done in the meantime. That meant that the solution would be a Bone Marrow Transplant. It is a very risky procedure, but is the only known cure.

In order to qualify for this, he had to get his blood counts up, so back to clinical trials he went. These next few months were grueling for my Dad. He went through so many horrible tests and procedures. One of the harder treatments required him to be hooked up to the IV drip for 5 straight days. He would call us and tell us how much he wanted to go home, but he knew had to endure the pain to get better in the end.

His body was taking a serious beating. After one failed clinical trial, he would have 2 weeks off (where he said he felt great and back to normal) before taking on another. We would constantly get emails from my step-mom Christine (who was by his side for the entire battle) telling us his status.

A sad moment for me was during the NYC Marathon. He and Christine had planned to come up and cheer me on. He had never seen me race so I was very excited. As it turns out, they had to bail on the trip because it was too risky for my Dad’s weakened immune system to be around all of those people. I’m a very positive person, but deep down I knew that was the last opportunity he would have to see me run a race. It was a weird feeling.

My race came and went.

Thanksgiving was a memorable one in 2010 because all 6 brothers were in town. We had such a great holiday with he and Christine. He looked great and seemed normal aside from his swollen nymph nodes. This would be the last time I would see him alive and in a healthy state.

It was also during this time that my brothers, aunts and uncles were all getting our blood tested to help Dad. My brother Phil was the winner. The doctors wanted to attempt a kind of mild white blood cell transfusion that I never quite understood. He underwent this treatment in the beginning of 2011 and after a few weeks we had learned that it failed.

I really am so proud of my Dad’s spirit. Through all this hope and despair, he had such a positive outlook and never gave up.

With all clinical trials failing, the only thing left was the Bone Marrow Treatment, the problem was that my Dad’s ‘counts’ were too low. He started traveling (a 6 hour drive) to Ohio Stet to see another specialist recommended by his Hopkins doctors. They put him on anther clinical trial in combination with some steroids. He liked this one because his nymph nodes immediately reduced in size.

—

On Sunday, May 15th my step-mom and my Dad went to the movies and had dinner out at one of their favorite places. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

Monday, Christine had noticed his speech was a bit slurred and he was a weaker than normal.

Tuesday morning my father couldn’t get out of bed. Christine had to use the wheelchair for the first time. She took him right to Hopkins to have him admitted. She sent the brothers an email explaining what had happened. Alarmed, but not to worried as these emails explaining Dad’s condition were common, we hoped for the best.

As Wednesday came. his condition was worse. Christine sent an email at the end of the day saying that she wished she had good news, but he wasn’t getting better. This isn’t a great email to receive while out at a happy hour, and I was immediately upset and worried. Abbe took me home and we went to bed. I was leaving for the Boston area the next day for the Reach the Beach Relay and had been so excited for it. 20 of my best runner friends (aka the Runner Army) were participating.

Thursday morning at 5:30AM I was startled out of sleep by my cell phone. It was my Dad’s ID, but when I answered it was my step-mom. In a very calm voice she simply said “Chris, you need to get here as fast as you can.” Shaking, I hung up the phone and paced. I started backing my backpack. How long was I going away for? One day? A week? I packed running gear, why I have no idea. After talking to my youngest brother Jeff who lives in the city we were booked on an 8:15AM train to Baltimore.

By the time I left for the train the only news I had from my brother Phil who lives close to Dad was that he had brain hemorrhaging and they couldn’t thin his blood because it was too risky based on his steroid treatments. I was really upset and in a daze.

Jeff and I made the train and had a very quiet ride. We were both in denial at the possibility that this could be the end. After a call from my brother Phil saying “Dad’s humor is alive. He was teasing some nurses and now they are taking him for a CT Scan.” we were confused and changed our outlook to hope.

The next 3 days could be summed up with ‘Hope and Despair’ repeating over and over. One of the worst roller coaster rides I have ever taken.

I went to college in Baltimore so it was refreshing to see the old campus. We arrived at Hopkins just after 11AM. My brother Phil greeted us in the lobby and warned us of what we were about to see.

Nothing could have prepared me. My once invincible father was pale and sleeping with so many tubes hooked up to him. His left side had had multiple strokes and was droopy and disfigured. His breathing was erratic. I immediately broke down and cried.

His condition was that he was delirious and his eyes would roll back occasionally. He woke up and I talked to him, telling him to get better so we could go home. He was so confused and was looking right at me saying something to which I couldn’t understand as his speech was slurred. He was so frustrated, he was in there, he just couldn’t work his body.

We watched the neurological team come to some reflex tests with him that nearly broke my heart. He couldn’t lift his left arm and thought it was November 11, 1973. Once again he was frustrated and tried to answer the doctors questions as if to say “Why are you asking me these stupid questions, I’m perfectly fine.”

The doctors thought it was an infection or possibly something with his brain but had no solid answers. They needed to take him away for another test so my brothers and I went to the cafeteria to get lunch.

When we returned he was worse. He was sleeping but his breathing was totally crazy. It hurt just listening to it. We got the doctors and they woke him up. “Mr. Baker, you are having trouble breathing, would you like us to give you a breathing tube?” I saw him look right at her and say yes. That was the last time I would see my Dad conscious.

We were all a mess. We waited for nearly 3 hours while they outfitted him with a breathing tube and something called a main line.

Finally, they said we could go in and see him. I lost it again. It was the saddest thing I have ever seen, breaking my heart yet again. My father had tubes out of his mouth, in his neck, his arms, everywhere. So many machines surrounded his bed beeping and blinking with data. He was peacefully sedated.

We talked with so many doctors. No one had answers.

Our routine was to go in and sit with Dad (I could only last 10 minutes at a time) then go out to the waiting area where we had started camping out. My step-mother never left his side.

As night fell, a wild storm approached and I remember whispering to myself, “If there is a god, he is here now.”

My Uncle Bill, Aunt Margie and cousin Cat and step brother Matt arrived at 7PM. It was good to have fresh faces but sad to have to relive the heart brake of new family coming to the realization of what was happening here.

Before we left for the night, the doctors explained that Dad’s Kidney’s were failing, he had fluid around his lungs and bleeding in his brain. Measures were being taken overnight to correct these things and we needed to be hopeful.

All of us left for Dad’s place except for Christine and Matt. At Dad’s we were all hopeful, and very confused. We drank and toasted to his health and went to bed at midnight.

Friday morning we all arrived back at Hopkins hoping for some good news. There was none. In fact his heart rate was fluctuating between 125-165 which any of you runners out there know is not a resting heart rate. They put him on meds to stabilize him and it worked.

It was at this time that my brothers and Christine and I had the discussion with his doctors on ‘what to do.’ Never in a million years did I think I would ever have to have this conversation. My Dad never wanted to be hooked up to machines, which was exactly the case at that moment. We made a decision that we would give Dad 48 hours. If there was even just an inkling of recovery, we would keep him going, but if he showed no signs of improvement we would let him go.

The doctors took him off sedation and gave him antibiotics, the theory now being that he had an infection that was attacking his whole body. They wanted him off sedation because they wanted a neurological reaction from him, something that showed he was still fighting and mentally in tact.

Once again, all day we were in and out of the ICU. I was in such a daze, it felt like a dream.

At 3PM, Friday my brother Jeff’s fiance Ali, and my Grandma and her boyfriend arrived. Ali knew by our faces that it was grim. As I approached Grandma (one of the most amazing women I have ever met) she kissed me and smiled saying “Hi Christopher, so is he better?” I started tearing up and she looked down saying, “Okay. Let’s go.”

Walking my dear Grandmother down to see her dying son is the hardest thing I have ever done. We both wept as we slowly walked arm in arm. “Chris, he means so much to me. He can’t, not now.” Crying I repeated, “I know Grandma, he means so much to all of us.” We both wept hard upon entering the room, her caressing his head and whispering to him.

All day we spent calling relatives telling them that needed to get here. Most of them in denial that Bruce would surely get through this. Hope is so powerful, and I was loosing it.
As Friday came to a close the doctors explained that his condition was ‘poor.’ We would need a miracle. His body was basically failing on multiple levels.

Before leaving for the night I was in his room and for the first time I was left by myself with him. Something deep down inside of me knew this was the end. I talked to him. I held his head and told him so many things, most of which he already knew, we were close. I was crying really hard and told him to stop fighting, that he didn’t need to be scared for him or for us, that we would see him later. I told him to watch over me and that every race I would ever run from here on would be for him. “Bye Dad.” as I walked out of his hospital room.

As soon as we got back to Dad’s place Christine called me. “Chris, I’m sorry to tell you this, your Father’s heart stopped briefly. If it happens again we aren’t going to resuscitate.” As I relayed the information to my brothers and relatives everyone lost it and the reality of what was inevitable set in.

Saturday morning at 5AM my brothers and I sped to the hospital in silence. I cried under my sunglasses the whole way.

In Dad’s room it was very somber. Dad’s condition had gotten worse again and it was time to let him go. We waited until the rest of our group arrived 30 minutes later before doing anything. The nurses had removed everything except the breathing tube and had redressed his bed, making space for us to lay with him. He was very peaceful.

Each family member had some privacy and said their goodbyes to Dad. Soon after, the nurse said it was time to remove the breathing tube. A few of us left the room because we are queasy.

All of us surrounded Dad, quietly crying as we all tried to tell some fun stories of him. He was breathing slowly. He was sitting up a bit and we were holding his hands and talking to him. It was so heart wrenching seeing everyone in tears. Every time I heard my Grandma’s cries I cried harder. Then, his eyes opened! It was so amazing, he just sat there watching us. His eyes were so colorful and beautiful at that moment.

His breathing slowly stopped and he left us peacefully.

We all hugged each other and were crying profusely. I had thought the whole ordeal took 30-40 minutes but the nurse told us it was only 7 minutes.

—

2 weeks later on June 4th we had his Memorial Service. It was a celebration of life, 5 friends and family members got up and told stories of him before bagpipers led us to his burial site. It was so beautiful and I know he was up there smiling down upon us. Afterwards, we had a huge reception at the Lansdowne Resort with food and drink. There were around 300 people in attendance.

He will be missed.

—

I have been thinking a lot about life (obviously) lately.

My Dad lived a great life, and had amazing experiences and friendships. Have I? Have you? Are you happy? If not, time to get working on that. Do you dream about taking a trip to the Grand Canyon? Take the trip. Do you want to learn the guitar? Take cooking classes? Have kids? Stop wasting time. Do you want to run a marathon? Don’t be scared, I believe in you.

My father’s wishes were to raise money for Lymphoma research so this doesn’t happen to another family. If you wish to contribute, please follow the link below. Any money we raise is going to be doubled by an anonymous donor.

Thanks for listening.

http://www.lymphoma.org/teammates/beyonddefeat

Dad
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