living proof

It is possible to weep while grinning while gasping for breath.

All those many training miles alone at my own pace did very little to prepare me for riding in the Pan Mass Challenge.

I thought I was prepared.  The worst I could do was finish last, or maybe not even finish but come up with a great excuse. My standing mantra was “it isn’t a race”, though everyone kept asking me when was the race?

I was ready for whatever was to come at me, or so I thought.

I did all the research, I went by the plans, listen to all the advice, rode long and slow, rode short and fast, up hills, down hills, less yoga, more yoga, cleaned my bike, rode in the rain, ate pasta, fig newtons, drank gatorade, more water, had caffeine, no caffeine, baked monster cookies, even watched the “tour”.

I looked at bike after bike at bike store after bike store, witnessed websites ad nauseam, talked to and watched man after man talk in the secret cult language of carbon, forks, cranks, schleck, seatstays, damp, stiff, compact, triple, weight, can he or can’t he (and we cyclists should know who “he” is?) climbs, components, fittings…hey, where are the females?

As we drove to Sturbridge my stomach churned over and over and my mind turned around and around.  What have I done?

I had barely ridden with other cyclist, other than waving to them as they pass by or trying to keep up with my wise trainer. I put off joining any group ride all spring and summer, I was doing this myself, period.

I had only ridden this rental bike a few times. My bike was good enough, it was the Cadillac of bikes, or so I was told. Maybe I should have packed it as a back up, remember it wasn’t a race anyway.

Yeah, food is important, sure I read plenty about it so I am uncertain why I put all my belief into a total stranger’s perfect sales pitch for a drink mix, the magic elixir, it was going to do all the work, all I had to do was come along for the ride. Shouldn’t I have just stuck with what I had rehearsed?

I could back out, everyone would understand, she had survived cancer what more can you expect.

The alarm woke me up at 4am and somehow I don’t remember much between breakfast and the start, although the sea of bikes and red shirts did it’s best to startle me into the present.

Suddenly, we were off. I never practiced mounting my bike with wobbly nervous legs in the dark surrounded by a field of others like me though I perceived them all as a patch of cool cucumbers knowing a secret that I had yet to find.

Then it didn’t take long for a smile to build on my face, and tears to stream down my cheeks and my legs to do what they have so kindly and stubbornly been doing for me all these months.

It was all down hill from there.

With 5,000 riders, 3,000 volunteers and thousands of appreciative, enthusiastic and kind humans cheering us along, how could I not turn the pedals over and over?

Most of all involved have been touched by cancer some way or another. Is touched an appropriate word?  More like accosted, maimed, affected, detained though might changed be the most fitting word?  Change leaves it open to both positive and negative.  There was nothing negative about the weekend.  Sure there was plenty of sadness and missing but goodwill and pure devotion overpowered all.

The entire weekend left me wanting more, it was addictive.  The extreme beauty of humanity at its best, the power of a mass driven by the same desires, and the pure fun of riding a bike faster and longer than I thought possible. Sublime comes to mind, beautiful, morally worthy, complete, excellent.

I will do it again, life is good and it is good we all have ours.

Thank you all

$8850! & the ride

5 am august 1, 2009

already my heart was racing

finally, the moment, the start

90 miles, much water, a couple of pb & fluff sandwiches, and a tremendous amount of thank you’s later, my cheering section!

the finish of day 1 at mass maritime after 110 miles

my support team helped me to the finish, though it was the last part of day 2 that i really needed them, maybe next year?

the sweet rental

my dear daughter

it’s now

as i patiently anticipate the weekend i have been preparing for, i am savoring the immense grace that has been so beautifully placed in my hands and heart.

graces both as tender as the brush of summer fog rolling in and others hit so hard i search for breath.

as i began to log these fortunate gifts i realized there are too many and some  too personal to write. though, most of all, i can not possibly do any of them justice.

so, let me just say thanks to all… dear doscher, sweet peter, my dad, my mom, my sister and family, sarah w., isabel, jan, vicky&tom, richard&jill, jim n., jacquie, beth m., beth k., carol, margaret, shannon, sarah b., peg, peggy, karen, rob, david, mr&mrs e, maryanne, pierre, joanne, suzanne, susan, linda, mr&mrs mcg, deidre, julie, brendon, robyn&randy, lons&jane, myra, zifrie, jim b, kane&frances, jahn, alan&cindy, david, saltonstall arch, jane, chase canopy, cathy, micheal&sarah, constance, j udi&paul, bette&ed, ellen, amy, peggy, matt, dr pitts, dr cronin, dr wagner, dr richer, dr patterson

why?

this picture pretty much says it all.  this is why i am still focused on raising money and training for the Pan Mass Challenge.

the building in this picture is a new addition to Dana Farber.  the names on the girders are of those who are patients of Dana Farber.  children and adults hang sheets of paper with their names written on it for the iron workers to see.  the iron workers then spray paint the names on the beams to be forever part of Dana Farber.

my fundraising is up to $7580!

thanks to Sarah and Mike, my dear friend Cathy, neighbors of my parents Bette and Ed, a parent of a friend of my daughter, Julie, the Lonsdales, and an old dear friend Beth whose mother i will also be riding for.

maybe $8000 is possible?

$7,150!

thank you to Brendon, Kane and Frances, Melinda, Willy, Chase Canopy, Cindy and Allen, Robin and Randy, Myra, Zifre, Mr. and Mrs McGowan, Jim, Jahn, Dave and Jen.

trying to win a bike

i made this video for a contest to win a bike…the time and energy put into this probably would have been better spent just riding my bike. 

 

grace

$4650 raised!

being a cancer survivor is a lot to live up to. 

all the best laid plans…ride everyday, yoga everyday, meditate everyday, give to others everyday, be thankful everyday, be happy everyday, be nice everyday, eat right everyday, smile everyday, work everyday, journal everyday, sure, sure, sure. 

i made that pact with the higher power i negotiate with.  i will be better if you make this cancer go away, and i will be even better if it is not cancer.  it was cancer and it is gone. so, why can’t i live up to my end of the bargain? 

somehow it sounded easier and more ideal when i was pleading.  it was the “me” before i knew i had cancer, before surgeries, before having part of my body removed, before i had to face having cancer, it was the “before me” making the plea. 

and now it is the “after me” trying to make good on the deal. 

i can say that yes, i have been on my bike, and yes, i have been to yoga, and i have meditated, and yes, i do bring a donut to the boy on the corner, and yes i do say thank you, and i have moments of being nice, and fruit and vegetables make it into my mouth, and yes, a smile here and there, and a drawing has made it into the pile and most i write is a list here and there.  though, none of this has been everyday.

everyday, i have to adjust my plan, adjust my deal because some days i am sure i am the “before me” and other days i am the “after me” and sometimes i am just me. 

i know how good it feels on my bike, to sweat in yoga, to sit in meditation, to help a friend, to be thankful and happy and nice and smiling with a full belly, and the comfort of the pen on the paper.  yet, somehow still my body or my mind rebels with lethargy, cynicism and disbelief, though not everyday, thankfully. 

shouldn’t “after me” be swinging from the rafters, jumping for joy?  shouldn’t “after me” be behaving like lance armstrong, christina applegate, sheryl crow or my dad or how about spark from mattapoisett? shouldn’t the “after me” know how precious life is and act on it.  or has cancer taught me to not set such high expectations, not to be so hard on myself, to stop and smell the roses, or is that just an excuse?

this must all be why i signed up for the Pan Mass Challenge. 

i must have known i would need a push, a goal, a no way out. now, truly, there is no backing out, having surpassed my fundraising goal! everyone has been so generous in their support. 

i know i can’t do it alone, though i know i must do it alone, though not everyday.

 

thank you Karen, Rob, Mr. & Mrs. Eaton, David, Tom and Leslie.

 

 

all clear

all clear, your scans are all clear. 

no small talk, no how do you do, just “all clear”. 

yesterday was a perfect day. yesterday i spent most of my day at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute for my three month check up.

compassion and tenderness run rampant thru all that is the Dana-Farber. every facet of my visit was expedited in a proficient and caring manner helping ease whatever discomfort i was experiencing. my mind has a tendency to run with it, get all wound up, take the what if’s too far, though not yesterday, at least for most  of the day.  after my tests, while snacking in the cafeteria i was shamelessly secretly patting myself on the back for being so cool and nonchalant.

sure, those are not words that most close to me would use to describe me and even more sure,  i knew i was fooling myself. yet it did help pass the time until i met with my doctor.

fortunately, at Dana-Farber, if at all possible, test results are given the same day as the test are administered, giving me the very limited time to obsess (and, sure that is a word people close to me would use).  just as the pat on the back became a nervous twitch, my doctor, Dr. Wagner, walks in and says right up front, YOUR SCANS ARE ALL CLEAR.

from then on, nothing matters, i just float hovering above my chair. all is good, all is great. 

that moment is why i can ride in the Pan Mass Challenge and all the other moments are preciously why i must ride.  every moment at Dana-Farber is dedicated to the eradication of cancer, AIDS, and related diseases and the fear that they engender.

thanks

my thanks starts with the man pictured, Sidney Faber MD, who started the Dana-Farber Institute. 

and a huge thank you to Dr. Wagner, who explains every piece of minutia pertaining to a phyllodes tumor and who so generously shares his valuable time with me and my family going over every scan.  his deep caring surely overwhelms.

AND, big thank you’s to beth, my mom, carol, margaret, shannon, sarah and peg for being extremely generous in giving to help me meet my fundraising goal. also, to david and andy for your plentiful pledge. i am almost there!