taking my breath away

this weekend was a memorable one i had been looking forward to for a very long time. since i signed up in january, august 26 has been circled on my calendar. you don't know how many times i've said to myself, just make it to that day. this is what you are working for. this is going to be some sweet, sweet payback. recently the excitement grew as i looked forward to being around a group of people who "get it". who have been there, where i have, in one way or another. and there are so many people who have been there and get it. not to mention the ones who we call friends, family, brothers... the list goes on and on. it is a slice of humanity that has learned tough lessons the hardest way possible. smiles seem to stretch for feet, not inches. laughter is somehow sweeter, and we all revel in the small, beautiful, breathtaking victories. like the man who rode his bike four miles today despite having a tough go with treatments recently. unimaginably, i can say, i have been there. that's why the tears come, of joy, because i am here to do this, of understanding because i have been in similar shoes even though there are days when i can't believe it myself, and of pure exhilaration. the energy and life and vibrance and faith and grace of everyone around me today propels me forward. i don't think i can adequately put words to what it really was like to be there, but the superlatives are heartfelt and never more true. you'd be hard pressed to find a more inspiring group of people just about anywhere.


the weekend kicked off saturday night, at a fundraising appreciation dinner held at 30th street station in philadelphia. i'd be remiss not to thank every single person who found even the smallest amount to donate to the Lance Armstrong Foundation via my ride. I'll give you a little respite and thank you but remember I'll be coming back around in due time. Cancer hasn't gone away yet, unfortunately, and the funds raised through the LAF go to super-important programs that fight day and night to educate people about cancer and help those going through it... well, get through it. Dinner, though, was great - a group of incredible stories, families, friends, survivors and supporters all chowing down on some pasta and sharing their tales. the highlight of the evening was the presentation of the awards for team and individual fundraising, following introductions from Doug Ullman, president of the LAF (and another survivor from his young adult years), and Lance himself. It left me full of energy for today's ride - thank goodness, because it was past my bedtime!


the sun stayed behind the clouds today and a slight breeze was blowing as we rolled 40 miles across some beautiful parts of Montgomery (and maybe Bucks?) county. at the onset i wasn't so sure about the 40 miles and how i would hold up, but i felt strong and it probably had a lot to do with the overall energy of the day. wendy joined me at the crack of dawn and as we took off on the ride we cracked jokes and laughed a lot. i was wondering where the "hills" were... and it took about twenty miles or so to get into the thick of them. my biggest personal goal after just lasting the entire distance was not to walk a single hill. it isn't in my nature. we climbed every single one of them, including a monster coming out of the second aid station, just after we had sworn to "take it easy out of the rest stop". ha! somewhere along the way toward the last ten miles or so i found a second wind and ended up grinding out a pretty good portion of the rest of the race on my big gear, feeling less like a lung cancer survivor and more like i wanted to keep going. that's what next year is for. aside from wendy knocking me over heading out of a rest stop (i had to earn some road rash somehow.... thanks, wendy) one of the highlights of the ride was seeing Lance fly past the other direction. i saw a bike coming the opposite way as the rest of us, and i'm thinking, oh shit, how can this guy already be turned around and heading back? i am a slow freaking poke. well, when you're in charge and also a pretty good cyclist, you can fly along at just about any pace or direction you want. he looked just like he did when he, well, rides his bike. of course i turned to wendy and said jesus, that was Lance! wow, that's fast.


i carried many other people along with me today and i just wish they could have been there in person. my mind alternately raced from "i can't believe i am doing this... i am really doing this!" to thoughts of the people i've met because of my cancer and just how incredibly strong we all are. i think of so many people so often, and today was a great day because you were all zipping along with me. i mean it.


and so. beer in my belly, family around me, we sat, listened to some awards and to Lance one last time and headed home. i took a pretty serious nap (which is why i'm still awake right now) and took some vitamin i and once i get a nice, hot shower (don't worry, i took one earlier but it was COLD) it is lights out for me. what a day. my breath is gone, but for such a good reason. holy dang. i love my bike. i was grinning just about every minute of the ride. so alive with it all. felt back at the top of my game again. the new top. the view is fantabulous.