In May 2024, I came across two posts online that were catalysts to what I can only describe as a midlife crisis. The first was a video of a dad racing his teenage son. The caption read: “Every year he races his son on his birthday. His son still can’t beat him.” The dad, probably in his early 50s, was fully geared up. His teenage son, around 15, had the lean build of a runner and clearly wanted this year to be his year. But when the race started, the dad gave it everything he had—and left his son in the dust. The second post was a simple tweet: “At some point in your life, you sprint for the very last time, not knowing it’s your last time sprinting.” I sat there, trying to remember the last time I had sprinted all-out. I couldn’t. It had been years. That same month, my second son was born. And in that mix of sleepless nights and newborn wonder, an uneasy feeling crept in: I was letting myself slip—physically, mentally, spiritually. My kids would grow up seeing that version of me, a man slowly swallowed by a sedentary life behind a screen. Then, just weeks later, my dad had a heart attack—his third in 15 years. Every unexpected call from my mom feels like a gut punch. Every time, I brace myself for the worst. Those two posts, the birth of my son, and my dad’s health scare became the four cornerstones of what I can only describe as my midlife crisis. But instead of letting it paralyze me, I let it transform me. I overhauled my sleep habits. I cleaned up my diet and cut out alcohol completely. I started running—religiously. I got a new doctor and did a full blood panel to understand my genetic risks. That summer and in the months since, I've dived headfirst into a series of changes—big and small—that will echo through my life for decades to come. I lost more than 40 pounds. I stopped drinking alcohol. I've run over 300 miles, including a 5k, 10k, and half marathon. 2024 completely changed my life, and in 2025 I have my heart set on the Chicago Marathon. If you'd like to support my run and the Livestrong charity, please consider donating to help me reach my goal. Here's to an incredible year, intensive training block, and a long 26.22 mile race!! Thanks in advance, Daniel Berk. P.S. This site doesn't let me design this ugly block of text differently, sorry!