Howard’s Team – Introducing MS Champion Jeff Lundin
Howard’s Team is pleased to announce that MS Champion, Jeff Lundin, is joining the team. Jeff was honored as the Rock Star Rookie at the 2024 Bike MS: Oregon and he will be leading Howard’s Team Oregon as Team Captain.
“I am so excited that Jeff has decided to join Howard’s Team. We spent several hours together during Bike MS Oregon. During our ride I learned that Jeff is a dedicated father, husband, athlete and professional. I also learned that he regularly enjoys a morning cold plunge (not for everyone), which is a routine I enjoy as well. I know he will make a big impact in growing our team in Oregon,” said Jay McCabe, National Team Captain.
To help you get to know Jeff, here’s his story told in his own words.
I now live life with the intention to be able to say on my deathbed, as my father did, “I’ve lived a damn good life.” Jeff Lundin
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Often times, the best way to tell a story is to start in the middle.
It was the summer of 2022. I woke up at 5:02 AM – always wakeup on the 2 – to go for my morning run. I was training for Ironman 70.3 Oregon and was in the final phases of preparation. It was a Tuesday morning, and I couldn’t read my watch very well as I was running. My vision was blurry and distorted. I got home and looked in the mirror and my left eye was swollen. I mentioned it to my wife, she noticed it too, but we didn’t think much of it. I went to work and went on with my day.
My sister and her family were in our town of Bend, OR that week visiting as they do every summer. We had a camping trip coming up in a few days, which was to be my only real vacation of the year. I’d started new a job within the last year and our kids (Arthur, 4, and Poppy, 3) were the focal point of our attention. So no time to worry about a puffy eye.
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My dad, Steve “Big Daddy” Lundin, had been battling a cancer diagnosis for over a year now, and it wasn’t going well. He was in Houston receiving treatment at MD Anderson Cancer Center, and I’d spent all my vacation time traveling down to see him regularly.
He’d been in a fist fight with his cancer for 18 months at this point. First from his home in Northern California, and now in Houston. He is my best friend and a tremendous individual, thus his Big Daddy namesake. He is every bit of it and was fighting like hell to pull through. But terminal diagnoses take a miracle, and that’s what we were praying for.
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This camp trip to Lake of the Woods, OR with our families, and another mutual close family friend, was going to be a time to relax by the water, have some drinks, enjoy our families, and process the events of Big Daddy’s cancer battle.
But the next morning, the morning we were to depart, my eye was way worse. It was like I’d gotten punched in the face!
I was seen by the ophthalmologist that day, and he wasn’t overly concerned. Being who I am, with my ambitions, goals, and direction, I didn’t tell him we were driving several hours away to a desolate location that day. Just give me what I need and I’ll be on my way. I have my vacation!
Except it got worse as we were camping. I took the steroids I was given each morning, but my eye was oozing and totally swollen shut. We stayed for the vacation as I promised Kacey (my wife, a nurse!) and Abbey (my sister, a clinical dietitian!) I’d go get it checked out as soon as we got home.
And I did just that… and got admitted to the ER and prepped for emergency surgery. Turns out swelling in your orbit is a very serious condition! And they weren’t amused that I’d just been enjoying Miller Lite’s by the lake for the past few days, ho-hum with what was going on.
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Big Daddy and my mom, Mimi, had been coming to terms with the terminal nature of his diagnosis. It had come up a few times in a few ways. He was 69 years old, and his team oscillated between whether he was going to live for 5 more years, to one more year, to… well… less than that.
They had been married 40 years to this point and had been reflecting on what their life together had been like. They’d raised two children, had successful careers, survived Mimi’s own health crisis (which included a 5-day coma), and now had 4 perfect grandchildren. Their home and life in Napa, CA were a lifetime achievement of hard work and happiness.
When in one of these moments, Big Daddy remarked, “I’m at peace with whatever happens, I’ve had a damn good life.”
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Turns out I didn’t need surgery. After an overnight, of course getting admitted to the unit Kacey works on, I was discharged and followed up with my doctor.
The next weeks were a blur. I set a PR in my 70.3 triathlon (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run), went to visit Big Daddy in Houston, and had several appointments to work on the eye. I got referred specialist after specialist and thrown on several medications to deal with the inflammation they’d discovered in my eye.
In the meantime, Big Daddy went from bad to worse. Abbey and I were taking turns being in Houston, making sure one of us was there. I went from an MRI machine in Oregon on a plane to Houston to be with him for what would be his final days.
I’d never experienced death before, and losing my best friend and father was a heck of a way to get introduced. The cancer was under control… until it wasn’t. We were all able to be there by his side when he passed. Me, Abbey, Mom, Kacey, and Mike (Abbey’s husband) all said goodbye together.
Upon returning home, I continued to try to figure out what was going on with my eye and get a diagnosis. I’d gained a lot of weight from the steroids and was a mess after Big Daddy’s passing. The medication and the emotional weight of everything had thrown me off axis, to say the least.
After several months of treatment I’d received word that the swelling in my eye had been resolved. Great news!!
Except there were incidental findings on the scan in my brain consistent with Multiple Sclerosis (MS). And a trip to another doctor and another scan confirmed just that.
The news came almost as a relief. We finally had some direction and something to treat. I jumped into the treatment protocol with the same tenacity and courageousness that my father had demonstrated through his battle. I didn’t have fear or concern for the future in my heart, just a burning desire to kick MS’s butt!
I’ve been living with MS for two years now and have had to reset my expectations in so many ways. In my family life with my kids, my professional track, and my athletic goals. In some regards my diagnosis has been a tremendous blessing, allowing me to gain focus and perspective I’d previously lacked.
Losing my father and the season of life sounding his passing and my diagnosis forever changed me. I now live life with the intention to be able to say on my deathbed, as my father did, “I’ve lived a damn good life.”
Go Howard’s Team!
Jeff Lundin, MS Champ and Howard’s Team Oregon Captain
