John (right) and his friend Bruce after finishing the 2025 NYC Marathon.
Editor’s Note: This article is adapted from John’s 2025 NYC Marathon pre-race celebration speech.
New York City has always been woven into the most meaningful parts of my life. My husband, Peter, and I took our first trip here in July 1997 — that early-relationship milestone where you learn whether your new partner can survive airport delays, loud taxis and questionable diner coffee. Fifteen years later, we returned to the city to elope at City Hall, following in the footsteps of Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio.
Years after that, New York became the place where I first noticed something was wrong. During a 2014 work trip, my right hand wouldn’t stop clenching. At the time I brushed it off, not knowing that this small, strange symptom was the earliest sign of Parkinson’s disease (PD). In 2015, a month shy of my 50th birthday, I was diagnosed with early-onset Parkinson’s. As frightening as it was, the diagnosis brought a clarity — I finally had a name for what was happening to my body. Once I could name it, I could fight it.
One of the first steps I took was reaching out to The Michael J. Fox Foundation. Through the Foundation, I found the kind of community you don’t realize you need until you have it: people who understand the daily realities of Parkinson’s, who offer comfort without pity and who know that hope isn’t naive — it’s necessary.
That sense of community grew even stronger when I began fundraising and participating in Team Fox events. At the 2025 Tour de Fox Wine Country Ride in Sonoma, California, I admitted to an MJFF staff member that after decades working in the nonprofit world to help others, it felt uncomfortable to turn the spotlight toward my own experience. She reminded me that every dollar raised helps not only those of us living with PD now, but also generations to come. Research, science and access to care are critical — and Parkinson's, after all, doesn’t care about who you love, your beliefs or the size of your bank account. It affects all of us differently, but it affects all of us.
This year I returned to New York for my fifth marathon with Team Fox — and my third time running this iconic course. My training runs were accompanied by a soundtrack of Broadway showtunes, Barry Manilow classics and the iconic “I Sing the Body Electric” from Fame. That title became surprisingly literal in 2021 when I became one of the first recipients of a new generation of Deep Brain Stimulation with adaptive technology. The device reads my brain activity in real time and adjusts stimulation automatically. I truly am “the body electric.” This treatment — a direct product of research supported by The Michael J. Fox Foundation — allowed me to remain in a job I loved for four additional years, and it helped carry me through every run since then.
And yet, even with the support of this remarkable technology, Parkinson’s has a way of reminding me that no two days are the same. Training and racing with PD remains a study in contrasts. Some days I can barely make it around the block; other days I move with a sense of freedom that surprises even me. I never know which version of myself will show up, but I’ve learned that whatever the day brings, every step forward counts.
That determination is fueled by the people who lift me up. I am fortunate to have friends like Bruce Knopf, Kathy Moehring, David Shapiro and Jay Hargis — the kind of friends who show up on race day with contraband Snickers bars and, in Bruce’s case last year, jumped in to run the final three miles by my side. Afterward, Bruce told me that if I had one more marathon in me, he’d join me. A year later, at age 75, he kept his word. Our team, the Fox Trotters, raised more than $23,000 this year, and knowing that Peter and Kathy — our endlessly patient spouses — were out on the course cheering with the rest of Team Fox made the miles feel shared, not solitary.
Each year, I have the words “running with Parkinson’s” emblazoned on my Team Fox jersey. As runners pass me along the course (I never claimed to be a fast runner!), many will give me a shout-out of encouragement, and a few will briefly run beside me, sharing stories of family and friends who are also fighting this disease. It’s an incredibly moving experience, and it inspires me with the knowledge that I’m running not just for myself, but for all of us impacted by this disease.
Running the 2025 marathon reminded me what PD continues to teach me: perfection is irrelevant. What matters is showing up, doing what I can and recognizing that I am never facing this alone. No one living with Parkinson’s — and no one who loves someone with Parkinson’s — is alone.
The work of The Michael J. Fox Foundation makes that truth visible every day. Together, step by step, we’re moving toward the same goal: a cure. And one day, we will cross that ultimate finish line together.
