Welcome to My Personal Page
What the Race for Hope means to me
This will be my eighth year running in the DC Race for Hope and my eighth year leading my team, the Hoya Lawyas for Hope, to victory!
My dad, Barry Recht, fought hard for three years, but he lost his final battle to brain cancer on June 19, 2007. The world has been a much lonelier (and less interesting) place to live since that day. For those who didn't know Barry, it is hard to explain how incredible he was: unpretentiously brilliant, unapologetically passionate and fiery, unforgettably charismatic and full of humor. Love and life seemed to emanate from him and constantly surround him. As happens with most brain tumor patients and their families, our lives changed in a million ways the moment he was diagnosed. As the three years of our shared brain tumor journey wound down, we lost more than just this amazing patriarch; we lost hope. I ran my first Race for Hope just a month before my dad died, with him as my inspiration and with an honest belief that he'd be with me at the next one. The energy and emotions swirl around the whole route on race day-- the joy of survivors, the encouragement of patients, the shared struggle of those who are grieving all join forces as Hope. We didn't find a cure in time to save my dad, but the hope builds each year that the work we do and the funds we raise will save some other daughter from missing her daddy or will help other confused families navigate the healthcare system and the unknowns of brain cancer. Almost seven years after I lost my father and found my cause, the positive impact of the brain tumor community and the unbelievable medical advances continue to inspire me to keep fighting the fight, raising the dough and running the race. Please join us on race day and experience it yourself.
In my father's memory, in support of all those currently battling and in celebration of those who have beat the odds, I plan to raise a ton of money for an extremely worthy cause and get a little exercise while I'm at it.
So let's run some Ks, raise some money, and get rid of these pesky tumors.
What the Hoya Lawyas for Hope mean to me
Most of the amazing people who will help me fundraise and who will wake up early on May 4 to run with me on race day never had the opportunity to meet the man in whose memory we run. From our first race as a team of five 1Ls taking time out from finals to Race for Hope, to a team of 40+ 3Ls (one of whom came in first!) getting ready to graduate law school, to a random collection of new and old friends, coworkers, family and randos pushing through rain and heat to make it to the bagel brunch, every Hoya Lawyas for Hope team has been motivated, dedicated, generous and ridiculously fun. These people have supported me through the hardest time of my life and celebrated with me during the happiest. I will never be able to express to them what they mean to me. I hope that, through continued stalking, nagging and email spamming, I can share my passion with those Hoya Lawyas for Hope who've run with us in the past and those who will run in the future and that the experience touches them enough to carry on the cause even after they've defriended me on Facebook, unfollowed me on Twitter and deleted my number from their phones.
As usual, I hope the race will be an opportunity for those of us who have since scattered all around the country to reunite in one place and for one common goal (and to drag all our new friends, spouses and coworkers with us). Even those who aren't able to make it had a huge part in building our team and raising big money, and I hope they continue to be part of the team emotionally (and financially-- pay up, lawyers!).
Please take a moment to stop by our team page and encourage us. Please join and/or donate to the cause!
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