Running for Attention By Jeff Kaplan
5 seconds, I look, 15 miles in the rear.
5 seconds, I’m heading home, this training’s sincere.
5 seconds, I’m in a crosswalk, I’m in the clear.
5 seconds, I see my apartment complex, my home is near.
5 seconds, 27 years,
5 seconds, the Jeff I once was disappears.
5 seconds, My blood and my tears.
5 seconds, A new life, unknown fear.
5 seconds….
My name is Jeff.
I am a traumatic brain injury survivor, and this is my story.
This is me on a break from therapies at Spaulding where my mom and aunt are getting me some fresh air and sun.
In September 2018, I signed up for the NY Marathon. I was at a confusing time of my life. My girlfriend was moving away across the country, I was 27, and I was unemployed. I thought if I ran the NY Marathon, I would be doing something productive, so I joined the “Team for Kids” charity team.
At 2 pm on September 14, I started my first long run. I entered a pedestrian crosswalk at the intersection of Memorial Drive and Ames Street, and I was struck by a car going 37 mph. My head smashed the windshield, and I was airborne to the next crosswalk. I was rushed to Beth Israel Hospital (BI) for immediate brain surgery. I had a craniectomy, where part of the right side of my skull was removed to relieve pressure. My family was told to prepare for the worst since there was so much brain damage I would probably not survive or survive with much reduced functionality.
When I awoke from my two-week coma, I couldn’t speak or walk. I had no idea where I was. Miraculously, my injuries were limited to my brain and scrapes on my arms and legs. I stayed at BI for another two weeks or so, and then I was transferred to Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital in Charlestown, MA.
At Spaulding, I spent 45 days with daily occupational, speech, and physical therapies. I had to learn how to walk and talk again. The doctors, technicians and staff were amazing. I briefly returned to BI for a cranioplasty (insertion of a plastic skull piece to replace my removed skull piece which had become infected).
I left Spaulding on October 28, and the next day I had a seizure, which is a TBI risk. I returned once again to BI by ambulance. I have been on anti-seizure medication and seizure-free since then.
I went to a local brain injury rehabilitation clinic (CRC) for nine months, where I continued daily therapies. In my free time, I used brain therapy apps, did LoveYourBrain Yoga (which is the first time where I finally didn’t feel alone with other survivors and it helped me relax) and I spent hours relearning music production, my primary passion. I reached out to many of my favorite musicians. I told them their music helped me in my life and recovery. The bands “Rufus Du Sol” and “Jungle” (whose music I was listening to when the accident occurred) even dedicated a song to me at their concerts.
Hank, my old personal trainer, helped me with strength training, focusing on my left side. On January 20, I invited my parents to my treadmill in the basement, and I said, “watch this!” I ran for the first time since my accident.
I signed up for the 2019 NY Marathon, with Hank, my sister, and a friend of mine as my support runners. I almost died while training for the NY Marathon, and I knew I could not truly come back to life without finishing it. The Marathon became my focus. I ran daily, and I joined a gym and a Spaulding adaptive runner’s program. My friends, family and music were my constant rocks. By November 1, 2019, I had run 590 miles.
This is me during the 2019 NY Marathon nearing the last mile with my sister smiling, so happy for me.
Marathon weekend came, and my family and friends were there to support me.
This is part of the note I read to myself on the morning of the 2019 NY Marathon:
Hey Jeff 2.0, it’s Jeff 1.0. It’s race day, and you are scared. Scared of facing what almost killed you; not finishing it and failing; scared of seizures; scared of random body numbness and your left toes not working. But you were given a 2nd chance to finish what we started and put a beautiful end to this part of our lives. Do this for the 1.5 million people who have TBIs per year, and your story will give them light in the darkness they are in. Be the hope and the motivation for people that have lost both because of brain injuries. If you can overcome the challenges to get to that finish line, it will change your life, Jeff...Now join the 52,000 runners and GO cross that finish line!
As I approached the finish line, I saw my old PT, Audrey. She said, “Jeff you are about to do it! Two miles away! You ran the marathon!” I hugged her, then sprinted off and started crying. I crossed the finish line in six hours, a year after I couldn’t walk.
At the finish line of NY saying hi to my nephew Juju who was cheering with a bell for hours for me.
My traumatic brain injury took many of my past memories away from me, but I learned to focus on the positives and the importance of the Now. I have found a life purpose through tragedy. Today, I always reach out to my family and friends, and I help TBI survivors by sharing my story and recovery tactics. I make music whenever I can and even released my first album titled “Street Vibes in Paradise” indicating how something bad can happen in a good place, like getting hit by a car training for a marathon. My doctors told me that a TBI recovery is a marathon...without a finish line, and I agree. It has been an uphill battle – a battle of me versus myself - for two years; but it has given me a new appreciation for life.
September 14, 2020 is the two-year anniversary of my accident, and I have decided to run the 2020 virtual Boston Marathon on BI’s team. I plan to cross the 26.2 miles at Memorial Drive and Ames, where I lost the life I once had, but was reborn to be the person I was meant to become. I will have run two of the big six marathons, and I did it to show everyone, especially TBI survivors, that anything in life is truly possible if you work hard and believe in yourself. Whenever I feel like I’ve lost myself and I’ll never be normal again because of my TBI, I think of a quote by Sigmund Freud and how “one day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful”...and I push on.
