The 26-Minute Walk That Beat Rome, Zurich, and Jerusalem
Episode #44: Jeffrey Eisenberg
Jeffrey Eisenberg was at his desk when his 13-year-old labradoodle, Bachi, walked over and laid his head on Jeffrey’s foot.
Bachi is blind from cataracts now, a little deaf, otherwise fine. He’d been waiting all morning for his walk. Jeffrey was busy. Three projects, a Fitbit already past its goal, plenty of excuses to skip it.
Then he remembered something he’d thought about during the worst stretch of his hospital stay — when he wasn’t sure he was leaving the room he was in. The thing that broke him open wasn’t whether he’d see his wife or his brother again. He’d figured out how to say goodbye to them by phone. It was the dog. He realized he was never going to get to say goodbye to the dog.
So Jeffrey laced up and walked Bachi.
He used to walk a 16-to-18-minute mile. Post-treatment, on his own, he walks 21. With Bachi — blind, careful, prancing along on his little springy senior-dog steps — he walks at a 26-minute-and-40-second pace. Almost half an hour for under a mile.
Jeffrey told me it was one of the best things he’s ever done in his life.
He’s been to Rome, Zurich, Jerusalem, Istanbul. He wrote a New York Times bestseller. He took a company public. The walk with the dog is on the same list — maybe at the top of it.
Jeffrey has been diagnosed with cancer three times, including lymphoma that crossed the blood-brain barrier and put a tumor in his head that doctors initially refused to give him a prognosis on. He’s cancer-free now. We’ve known each other for years through mutual friends, and I had no idea any of this was happening until he reached out and asked to come on the podcast and tell the story. That’s what these conversations are for. Someone shares theirs, and somebody else who’s in the middle of their own hears that there’s a way through.
Two things to take from his story this week:
Ask the right question. When Jeffrey was scared in the hospital, he didn’t ask himself, “Will I die?” He asked, “What will I never see again? Who will I never see again?” That’s really what people are thinking when they’re facing their mortality. It’s the cancer filter that clarifies what’s really important.
Match someone else’s pace on purpose. Walk slower than you can. Notice what happens.
The full episode is up. Thursday’s subscriber piece goes into the part of the conversation Jeffrey said he hadn’t told even his closest friends until now.


