Wednesday, October 15, 2025 – Day 428

Wednesday, October 15, 2025

Good morning everyone.

Happy Birthday to my youngest brother, Nick! 🎉🥳🎁🍾

And…Happy Birthday to Trish Z! 🎁🥳👋🍾

Yesterday I was updating my Facebook page with some photos from the marathon. Between the Andy’s Army shirts and me sitting in a wheelchair, it became pretty clear that something had changed with my health. Within an hour, the questions started coming in—people asking why I was in a wheelchair.

When I was diagnosed with ALS on August 13, 2024, it hit Cindy and me like a freight train. We were blindsided and heartbroken. Telling our family was one of the hardest things we’ve ever done—and even then, it took time. Every conversation ended in tears. We didn’t fully understand what ALS meant beyond the terrifying headlines: no cure, 100% fatal. But what did that really mean for us?

As we began learning what life with ALS would look like, we slowly—very slowly—brought friends and extended family into our world. That was even harder. Once the words “I’ve been diagnosed with ALS” left our lips, there was always a long, heavy silence. There’s no good response to those words, and it’s painful to hear them from someone you love. Thankfully, I have seven amazing siblings who did some of the emotional heavy lifting when Cindy and I couldn’t.

At the time, I wasn’t active on social media and had no desire to talk about my diagnosis there. I knew once it hit Facebook, the questions, comments, and messages would pour in—and I wasn’t ready for that. I needed time to adjust and process this new reality at my own pace.

Yesterday was 427 days since that diagnosis, and I had kept this topic off my FB page. Everyone close to me has respected my privacy, keeping the news off Facebook and Instagram. Which is a little funny, since the Andy’s Army blog has been going strong for almost a year, where I’ve been completely transparent about life with ALS.

So yesterday, after I updated my profile photo (with no context) and saw the comments start rolling in, I realized it was time to share my story more publicly. I decided to let my wider circle of friends know about my ALS—and I added a link to the Andy’s Army blog while I was at it. Even then, it took me a while to press “post.” I debated with myself for an hour before finally hitting send. Once I did, there was no going back.

This morning, I’m sitting here in the quiet, thinking about what might have unfolded online overnight. I’ll check later. But for now, I’m just grateful to be at a point where I can talk about my ALS openly. Sure, I still have emotional moments—especially this past weekend at the Chicago Marathon. Andy’s Army showed up in such a powerful way, and I’m still overwhelmed by the love, support, and generosity of so many.

Thank you all for such a meaningful weekend. I keep replaying moments from the marathon and get choked up every time. You helped our runners achieve their goals, and in doing so, you’re helping so many others living with ALS—including me. Wow. I’m still in awe.

Who’s in for next year? I think Alex might be game… now he just needs a few others to join him. No reason to retire the army just yet.

Have a great Wednesday. Love you guys! ❤️

Today’s photos: