Liz Janoski

Renaissance Man

If you could exercise the brain like a muscle, my dad would have had the strongest one I’ve ever known.

He was the valedictorian of his high school class. He attended Yale University, where he graduated magna cum laude with a degree in history and was inducted into Phi Beta Kappa. After serving as a lieutenant in the United States Army, he earned his MBA from the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania. He later achieved the professional designations of CFA and CSA. He had a long career in finance and investments and served on the boards of several organizations.

But those accomplishments only tell part of his story. He was endlessly curious. He flew small airplanes, spoke seven languages—including Esperanto (an international language) and never seemed to stop learning. A friend once described him as a Renaissance man, and I have always loved that  

That is why Alzheimer’s disease felt especially cruel. It slowly stole the very thing that had always defined him: his extraordinary mind. Watching someone who spoke seven languages find it hard to communicate in one is a heartbreak that is difficult to put into words.

Yet Alzheimer’s never erased who he was. He was the one who taught me how to ride a bike, how to drive, how to throw a baseball and a punch. We both loved Batman and superhero movies. He had a sweet tooth and loved Reese’s Cups, and never told me “no” when I wanted ice cream. He traveled extensively when he was younger, and his stories inspired me to see the world (14 countries and counting!). But for all of his intelligence and accomplishments, he also knew how to have fun. He was a big kid at heart, which is probably why he took our family to Disney World four times when I was growing up. I still remember riding Space Mountain with him, catching him dozing off on Spaceship Earth, and jumping as he deliberately scared me on the Haunted Mansion. He was also the reason I became a business major, studied abroad, and later earned my own MBA. To me, he will always be the brilliant, endlessly curious man who believed there was always something new to learn and who never lost his childlike sense of wonder.

This November, I’ll be running the Philadelphia Marathon as a member of the Run To Remember Alzheimer’s Association team in his memory. While there is no guaranteed way to prevent Alzheimer’s, research suggests that regular physical activity is one of the lifestyle habits that may help reduce the risk and support long-term brain health. By raising funds for Alzheimer’s research, care, and support, I hope to honor the extraordinary man my dad was and help move us closer to a future where no family has to experience this loss.

If you’d like to honor my dad’s memory with me, I would be incredibly grateful if you would consider making a donation to my fundraiser. Every contribution, no matter the amount, helps the Alzheimer’s Association provide care, support, and hope to families facing this disease. And if you’re not able to donate, your encouragement, sharing this post, or cheering me on during those 26.2 miles means more than you know.

Thank you for helping me remember my dad, not for Alzheimer’s, but for the brilliant, fun-loving, endlessly curious Renaissance man he truly was.

P.S. I am now the one who falls asleep on Spaceship Earth.