Path twists again for runner
After choosing exercise to regain health, Riker diagnosed with cancer
Matt Riker is already proof anyone can get cancer, no matter how healthy they live. Now he wants to prove what matters is not how long you live, it’s how well you live.
Riker, 51, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer earlier this month. He doesn’t have a prognosis or a treatment plan yet, but he knows the survival rates for this type of cancer aren’t good. He’s already using a fentanyl patch for pain, and he knows things are going to get harder. But for right now, he’s walking around. For right now, he can still run, so that’s what he’s going to do.
Riker is trim and fit, but it wasn’t always that way. He grew up feeling embarrassed about his weight. He had a natural athletic ability on the football field and became captain of the football team at Saratoga Springs High School. He played at Siena College, too. He lifted weights, but he wasn’t a runner. It wasn’t until he was 49 and a borderline diabetic that he started running. His doctor wanted him to start using insulin. Instead, Riker started running and lost 30 pounds in three months. He used to weigh 220 pounds, now he weighs 160. He brought his blood sugar down and felt better.
The changes were a physical manifestation of spiritual, emotional changes Riker made
years earlier.
“About 15 years ago, I was unhappy, really unhappy,” Riker said. “I did some soul searching and decided I was living a selfish life. I was focused on material things.”
His mental state was putting a strain on his relationship with his wife, his siblings and parents. He started helping others — small things at first, like mowing his neighbor’s lawn. He went back to his athletic roots and began coaching Pop Warner football, eventually becoming president of the organization. Every year at registration time, he asked the players to donate a can of food to the food pantry at the Franklin Community Center. Riker began volunteering at the center and joined its board.
“I realized I was a good person. I felt better about myself and the more I felt better, the more I became involved,” Riker said.
Kari Cushing, executive director of the center, called Riker the most selfless person she’s ever met.
“His whole existence is doing good things for other people, I’ve never heard him complain or say a bad word about anyone,” Cushing said.
Riker’s introduction to running started small, too. When he started he could only run about half a mile. He slowly added mileage and speed, eventually running a 10k at under 8 minutes per mile. He became a running proselytizer, urging others to join him. He’s been toying with the idea of doing a run from his home on Union Street to the Saratoga Spa State Park, running a five-mile loop at the park, and then walking home. His neighbors, Steve Doak and Jenna Placke, signed on. They planned to invite more friends and ask everyone to donate a can to the food pantry.
Then came the cancer diagnosis.
When he talks about it, Riker’s tears are not for himself. They are for his wife of 25 years, Lisa, and for his mother. He was alone at Saratoga Hospital when the doctor told him the pain and inflammation the doctors previously thought was pancreatitis was something worse. He was in a double room. A guy in the next bed over was talking on his cellphone. Riker needed more tests, but he asked if he could go home and tell Lisa at his in-laws’ house, so she would have her mother by her side.
Less than 24 hours later, he went to a board meeting at the Franklin Community Center, so he could tell the other members in person. He began telling friends, and making plans. The run to the state park was still on, he said, but now he wanted it to be a fundraiser.
Not for him.
For the center.
It’s not an official event, Riker asks that whoever wants to join make a donation on the center’s website and then meet him near Marino’s Pizza (46 West Circular St.) at 9 a.m. Saturday. The Barrelhouse Restaurant (68 Beekman St.) is hosting a party afterward.
Riker said he’s not scared about what’s to come. He’s lived the life he’s wanted to live, he said.
But he loves what running gave him and he loves giving to others. He may not be able to run again for a while after this. He may not be able to help others the way he’s used to helping. So for now, one last run.
He’s calling it the Run of My Life.