I started this documentary in 2020, during the pandemic. The goal was simple: finally complete a marathon. I’d wanted to do one ever since losing over 120 pounds and running my first half marathon back in 2011. I decided to raise money for the Kirk Gibson Foundation to help in the fight against Parkinson’s, in honor of my dad, who had been diagnosed with the disease. And, honestly, I needed something creative to focus on during the shutdown. At the time, I only planned on running one marathon and making a short documentary about that single run.
The name Run4Ben came easily. I was running in honor of my dad. I was running for Ben. The “4” just looked better graphically—neat, simple. I didn’t think much beyond that. In fact, in that first year, I didn’t overthink any of it. I signed up for the race, called my buddy Mike to see if he’d help, and started filming and raising money. That was it.
But little moments of magic kept pushing this journey forward. And as time went on, the meaning of that “4” grew in ways I never expected.
The Four Marathons
The significance of the number four hit me as I crossed the finish line of my—yep—fourth marathon. But let’s back up.
My first marathon was in 2020. Because of the pandemic, the Detroit Free Press Marathon wasn’t held in person, so I ran it virtually in Los Angeles.
By 2021, I wanted the full experience—running through Detroit in person. My dad still had Parkinson’s, I could still raise money, and it felt right. So I called Mike, pitched him on a cross-country trip, and signed up for my second marathon. Around this time, my wife and I also decided to move back to Michigan. My dad’s condition was worsening, and it was clear my family needed help. More than anything, I wanted to spend quality time with him while I still could.
That year, I met Kirk Gibson and the KGF team, helped at the marathon expo, and ran the Detroit Marathon. But because of lingering COVID restrictions, the race didn’t cross into Canada as it normally would. So when 2022 rolled around and the border was open again, I thought—if I really want the full Detroit Marathon experience, I need to do it again.
So I called Mike—again. I told him I wanted to run it one more time. This one would be simpler—just me, a GoPro, and a chance to capture some great shots running across the Ambassador Bridge into Canada. And just like that, I signed up for my third marathon.
That morning, around 7:20 AM, I ran across the bridge. The sun was rising over the Detroit River, turning the whole world gold. I ran through the tunnel, the famous “underwater mile,” back into Detroit. It was perfect. It felt like a full-circle moment. This was supposed to be the end of my marathon runs. Time to finish the documentary.
Or so I thought.
Running With My Dad
By late 2022, my dad’s Parkinson’s had progressed significantly. He could no longer walk. He was falling frequently. We had to move him into a 24-hour care facility. It was heartbreaking. I visited often, but I felt helpless. I wanted him to be home with my mom. I wanted him to be free.
On long drives back from Grand Blanc to Grosse Pointe, I kept thinking about how I could bring him joy. I kept coming back to the idea of nature. Feeling the wind, hearing the birds, watching the clouds—things I knew would bring him peace.
Then it hit me: What if we ran together? What if I could push him in a racing chair?
The specialized Hoyt Racing Chair was expensive—too expensive for me to afford alone. I searched for used ones, but the only one I found was in rough shape. I wanted a Hoyt. My dad and I had watched the story of Dick and Rick Hoyt years ago—father and son, running marathons together. I wanted to give my dad that experience.
I put up a GoFundMe. If we could raise the money, I’d run the 2023 Detroit Marathon with my dad. We’d order a custom chair in KGF orange, with decals and slogans like “Keep Moving” and “Beat Parkinson’s.” I set a goal of $6,000, hoping we’d get close.
We hit the goal in less than a week.
We ordered the chair. We started training.
The Fourth Marathon
That brings us to my fourth marathon—the one I ran with my dad. Run4Ben took on a new meaning. That “4” that had just been a design choice back in 2020 now represented the four marathons I had run for my dad. The four years of running, of fundraising, of fighting Parkinson’s with every step.
The 2023 marathon was the last one I ran with him. I had hoped we could do the half marathon together in 2024. But in July of 2024, my dad passed away.
Running Forward
When I think of Run4Ben now, I think of the four wonderful marathons I ran for my dad—and the time we spent together. The memories we made. The moments of magic along the way.
I did run the half marathon in 2024. I thought about my dad the whole time. I didn’t raise money. I didn’t post about it. I just ran. Quietly. For him.
There won’t be another marathon with my dad. But there will always be the gift of running. And there will always be the gift of those four years we had together.
And that will always be enough.
