Running has always been a solitary activity for me.

Provided I’m not being chased, of course.

It’s also never come very easily to me; distance running, at least. I was a sprinter in high school, but if you ever got me over 200 meters, I was toast. In fact, the summer between my 8th and 9th grade years I went to the informational meeting about running cross country and then I tried to run home to see what it was like.

It did not go well.

I did not join the cross country team.

So, when I took up running in my early thirties, it was kind of a big deal. I documented my training for my first 5k and my first 10k. Every time I went out and every time I ran a race, it was an event. Which is totally great, but the last couple of races I’ve run I’ve had one thought going through my mind:

This is all about me.

I love the sense of accomplishment. I love getting the medal at the end of the race. I love the free beer (I think this might be a Wisconsin thing). I love making the perfect playlist and getting lost in the run. And none of these are inherently bad, don’t get me wrong. But, I felt like something was missing.

The reason I’ve felt like this the last couple races is because before each of them, I ran into an amazing group of people. They’re called myTEAM TRIUMPH.

Love @myteamtriumphwi! Can’t wait to volunteer!

A video posted by Ryan Haack (@livingonehanded) on May 23, 2015 at 5:56pm PDT

You’ll notice that I posted this last May and I’m happy to announce that I’m going to volunteer this year! myTEAM TRIUMPH’s mission is “to enrich the health and well-being of individuals with disabilities by fostering lasting, authentic relationships through the teamwork environment of endurance athletics.” Basically what will happen is that I will be teamed-up with at least two of my good friends (Geoff and Jake) and we will be the “Angels” for our Captain as we run a 10k in beautiful downtown Madison, WI at the end of May. The Captain has a disability that prevents them from completing the race on their own, which is where we come in.

I’m really excited about this for a number of reasons, one of which is that I hope there’s some confusion about whether I’m a Captain or an Angel. “Well…uh…he’s missing part of his arm, but…he seems to be able to run fine, so…” But, jokes aside, I’m incredibly excited to run this race for someone else. And with my friends. Obviously I anticipate that it will be a life-changing experience for me personally, but the purpose of the event is to help someone else. That’s incredibly motivating to me.

And, in an effort to surprise absolutely nobody, I can confirm that I start to…um…get emotional every time I watch a video about myTEAM TRIUMPH. I was showing this one to my wife the other night and suddenly she was like, “Dude, are you crying?! Seriously, you weren’t lying!” Nope. I was not.

And this is where you come in.

The bare minimum we need to fundraise to participate is $100.

I would love to obliterate that number.

For more information and to donate, please go to My Fundraising Page!

I’ll be updating that page as we begin to train and go through the myTEAM TRIUMPH experience together.

As always, thank you all so much for your support.

You’re the best. 🙂

First of all, let’s just get this out of the way:

Yes, I got a tattoo on my one wrist.

I’m not gonna lie, I was a little nervous about it. I mean, you don’t plan on things going wrong, but…what if? It crossed my mind. Thankfully my son lightened the mood before I left the house to get it by asking very innocently, “Which wrist are you gonna get it on, dad? (pause) Oh, wait…nevermind.” His sheepish grin afterward made me laugh and relax.

My friend Alex tattooed me at Steve’s here in Madison and he did an amazing job. It was my first, so it was cool to have a friend do it; someone who understood the significance of it. He told me he’d take it easy on me and for the most part the experience went off without a hitch. I determined beforehand not to look until he was finished, but a little ways in I couldn’t resist a peek. It was my only mistake. I looked over, hopeful it was nearing completion, and it…well…wasn’t.

I didn’t look again until he was finished.

My daughter asked if I cried and I told her, “Not from my eyes.” I did sweat. A lot. But I made it through without any breaks and with only two deep breaths to refocus. If you’ve never gotten a tattoo, the sensation is hard to explain. It’s painful, for sure, but there’s something that feels almost sacred when it’s happening. Well, that and like a cat clawing at a sunburn. With broken, jagged claws. It’s beautiful.

So, why did I get a tattoo and why did I get this tattoo?

This goes back a ways. There were many times in my life that I wanted something that I could have gotten and just didn’t. I always wanted some Chuck Taylors in elementary school and just never did. I wanted to get my ear pierced for a long time and never did. I’ve wanted a tattoo for a long time…so this time, I did.

And this tattoo is for me. Even though I’m sure it will connect with many, many people and it will start amazing and intense conversations, ultimately, I put it in a place on my body where I can hold it up and look at it and read it myself. For me.

In November of 2014 I lost my dad to suicide. It’s still hard to fathom. So, my tattoo incorporates two very meaningful elements for me. If you’ve not heard of Project Semicolon, the idea behind it is that a semicolon represents the opportunity the author had to end the sentence with a period, but they chose to continue on instead. The idea is that we all have that choice with the story of our lives. Will we end it or will we continue on? So, the semicolon is to honor my dad by bringing awareness to the tragedy of suicide and to encourage those also struggling. A kind of we-re-all-in-this-together thing.

The other element is the phrase “Be Not Afraid.” Not a specific Bible verse, but the concept is pervasive throughout scripture, for sure. I struggle with fear and anxiety quite a bit. I’ve gotten better than I used to be, thanks to an amazing therapist and fantastic friends, but it’s still something that gets in my way. It can be paralyzing. And I don’t like it.

So, the theory is, when I’m feeling afraid, hopeless, down…I can look at my wrist and be encouraged.

Be not afraid, Ryan. Keep going.

Here’s what’s kind of funny about this. My dad grew-up the son of a WWII hero turned small town cop. I remember him telling me in no uncertain terms that if I grew my hair out or got an earring…it would be a problem. So, I didn’t. I didn’t resent him for it or anything and we had our moments, like when I dyed my hair purple, but it was never that big of a deal. Flash forward a good number of years and I’m visiting my dad as an adult when I notice something on his shoulder. It was a big ol’ cross! “Dad, when did you get a tattoo??” I asked incredulously. “Had a dream about it,” he told me. “You had a dream about it?” I said. “Yep. Had a dream about it, so I went in and picked it out and had ’em put it on me,” he said.

And that’s really all I remember about how my dad’s tattoo came to be.

I have some more ideas for myself and I’m looking forward to having them done.

One incorporates a cross on my shoulder.

Do you have a tattoo? Or tattoos? What was your experience like? Why did you get yours and what do they mean?

“I was waiting for YOU to ask me!” she told me.

I had just asked Lisa if anybody had invited her to prom yet. I was not the most savvy of young men at the time.

So, I officially asked her to be my date and she said yes and we had a wonderful time at prom together.

We ended-up dating for a short time after that, but like many high school romances it eventually ended and we both moved on.

We remained friends, but lost touch after high school for the most part.

Then, ten years ago to the day, I saw Lisa’s smiling face in the obituaries. I gasped audibly. Not because it was totally unexpected, but because it was still hard to believe. And it made me really sad.

Lisa had Cystic Fibrosis, although I never understood the complexities and seriousness of the disease when we were together. The disease took her at age 26, which is close to average for expected lifespan. Again, something I didn’t know when we were together.

I remember people said I was brave for being with her because of her condition. To be honest, I was mostly just ignorant. Maybe naive is a better word. I was with her because she was cute and fun and funny. We did normal stuff. We went to the movies, we hungout at each others’ houses, we went to the park. It never crossed my mind that she would die young.

I’ve never thought about it until now, but I wonder if people thought the same thing about her being with me? How sweet of her to be with that boy with one hand! As far as I remember, neither of us ever talked about our “conditions.” It would have been like having late night conversations about the color of our hair or our height. Which she would have hated because she was so short.

The facts that she had CF and I had one hand were far down the list of things we were concerned about.

And I love that.

We miss you, Lisa! We’re all grateful for the time we had with you and are thankful for the smiles and laughter you brought. Your strength and determination inspired everyone you knew.

My wife changes the world every single day.

And she does it just by being her.

She doesn’t spend hours researching how to build a platform online or how to drive traffic to a blog. She doesn’t stand in front of crowds or record a podcast or write ebooks.

There’s nothing wrong with any of these things (Um, they’re exactly what I do) and she could do any of them (really well, might I add), but my point is that you can change the world without them.

Almost every day she’s meeting with some young woman over coffee who ends-up spilling her guts, then leaves feeling like she can conquer anything because of the love and wisdom Julie has shared. She puts in countless hours of thankless, behind-the-scenes work for our church, championing our community to anyone and everyone she meets. She’s helping to shape the lives of two little munchkins three days a week as the world’s best nanny. She’s raising our kids to be compassionate, loving young people who care about others more than themselves.

None of these activities are particularly glamorous and I know the daily grind can be frustrating. “Am I really making a difference?” we ask ourselves. I know Julie has felt that way, as I’m sure most of us have.

That’s why it’s nice to hear that you’ve actually made a difference every once in a while.

A couple months ago we volunteered at the Wisconsin State cheerleading meet. It was held at Wilmot Union High School where, over a decade ago, Julie took over as head coach for the fledgling varsity cheerleading team. Julie had never cheered for even one minute in her entire life. She was a drama geek in high school. But, they needed someone and it meant a few more dollars in her paycheck and, most importantly, an opportunity to impact a group of young people she’d otherwise never have the chance to.

The first year meant a lot of long hours basically making sure the girls stayed alive. Julie did a lot of research and relied heavily on the upperclassmen to help her out with the actual cheerleading stuff. And even though she wasn’t technically skilled on how to develop those girls as cheerleaders, she loved them with her whole heart and taught them how to be incredible young women.

Over time, Julie learned more and the team got better. Julie surrounded herself with other coaches who were able to help with the technical aspects of cheer/dance and they even placed at State before we moved away in 2004. But, through it all, Julie was always just herself, loving those girls and developing relationships. Fast forward a decade and Julie and I are standing next to Mandi, one of the coaches Julie brought on to help all those years ago. Mandi coordinated the State meet at Wilmot High School. Over 50 schools competing. I just stood there and watched them as they reminisced and then Mandi turned to Julie and said, “This is because of you, you know. Look around. This was our dream! This wouldn’t be happening…I wouldn’t be here doing this…if it weren’t for you.”

Of course I started crying. Gimme a break.

We saw former cheerleaders of Julie’s at that meet who were volunteering, some providing security, and a few of them even head coaches of their own teams now! In fact, the senior girl who helped Julie that first year is now the head coach of that team. Insane.

The point is, Julie didn’t have some master plan to change the world. The world changed because she loved people. Period.

And that’s just who she is.

Just a regular wife, mom and friend…changing the world every single day.

And I’m so proud of and in love with her.

Do you ever have that feeling, that you’d be able to change the world if only…? Do you believe you can change the world just by loving those around you? Just by being you? Are there people that have changed your life just by being them? How does that inspire you to do the same?

The WHS squad, way back in the day!

Julie and Mandi

Julie and Jenni, the senior girl who helped Julie that first year and is now the varsity coach!