Mon., May 13, 2002 (Day One)

After training hard for the last 5 months, raising the necessary funds in order to participate in this first-ever AIDS/LifeCycle event, it seems impossible that the date has finally come. It's true, it's time, it's here!

Arriving to San Francisco added to the excitement and anticipation that I have been feeling for the last 3-4 days. San Francisco is a city I always found interesting, captivating.

All the encounters during registration with people I've met on training rides -- the familiar smiles, the "hello's!", hugs, "great to see you again" - mark the beginning of what promises to be an unforgettable adventure.

I was too excited to get all my 8 hours of sleep on Sunday night: I wanted to start, I wanted the ride to begin and Monday morning found me fully awake and ready to go.

As my first ride experience, this event has allowed me to be part of a community that is fighting a pandemic that has taken many of our friends and loved ones. The opening ceremonies - short and heartfelt - re-affirmed in my heart that as a community we DO need each other; we are all connected and can do so much for so many - if we try.

The ride started on time and my spirit seemed to be so charged with a kind of energy that only comes from up above. Tears filled my eyes as our bikes rode down the street through the cheering crowd - I felt invincible.

The first 115 miles of the ride, on Day 1, after all the huffing and puffing on the bikes, have been a lot of fun, enjoying the incredible California coastline. Just being out on the road with a cool bunch of riders on a gorgeous day has been so inspiring.

Wow! I woke up this morning feeling the effects of what we went through yesterday - the first day of the ride and the first 119 miles. My body sure is reacting to that. Sore legs, stiff back, etc. but not too bad to prevent me from getting up today and getting ready for more.

I have decided that I cannot guarantee I will ride all the 600 miles, but I will definitely try by getting up every morning and trying to enjoy it. It could be very painful to be back on the saddle sometimes, if you know what I mean. I have to give credit to my tent mate, Patrick, whose sense of humor and incredible disposition make every day's mileage more enjoyable. I couldn't have found a better person to "tent" with.

Day Two has offered the kind of route where there are no hills to climb but the challenges we do face could still be something to fear: headwinds, bumpy roads, dust clouds and heat! Patrick and I try to find ways to make the ride less tedious: a show tune or stories from our childhood years will make us forget that we still have some miles ahead of us, and that our butts hurt!

We often talk about the reasons why we are doing this and we can't help but to silently tip our helmets as a sign of respect when a "Positive Pedaler" rides by or near us (Positive Pedalers are cyclists participating in this event and who live with HIV and AIDS). They are the heroes, the inspiration and one of the reasons many of us are doing this. We are raising funds to make sure they receive the medical attention and the treatments to stay alive. It amazes me to see them go on and go strong, climbing their place in this world with every stroke of their legs.

This ride is about life. Not only the affirmation and enjoyment of the lives of those who can ride, but a celebration of the lives of those who have passed and no longer have a voice.

Greenfield to Paso Robles. Today is when it finally hit me: "What am I doing?" This is not training ride weekend! This is the third and, very possibly, the hardest day of the ride. They warned us about a very challenging hill that everybody knows as "quad-buster," an approximately 1-1/2 mile climb that made me huff, puff, swear, scream like never before.

That was nothing compared to what was waiting for us by mile 55. Oh, my God! Hold on to your helmets everyone! The next 35 miles I can only describe as an electriocardiogram of hills and downhills with no end. Just when we thought we were approaching the summit, the deceiving road was hiding yet another climb - not a pretty picture. The only and greatest reward was the view of lakes and valleys on both sides of the road. Mother Nature at its best! Of course, the way down was easy; that's what we call "screaming downhills"!

It was so warm during the entire day, that it was very easy go through 4 Gatorade bottle refills and 3 Camelback water bag refills. Many people could not finish the route and got picked up by buses or vans that do the runs between rest stops and tent camp, all day long. Many others got dehydrated and taken directly to medical services. The most challenging day of the ride has turned out to be today - no doubt about it.

How did I make it through the day? It was thanks to the support and encouragement of my tent mate Patrick and our friend Kevin (a guy we met during training rides). We stuck together from beginning to end and pulled it off as a team. Also thanks to the amazing team of volunteers, roadies and route coordinators who have been "shadowing" us mile after mile of the ride, whose words of support, cheering and hard work make this adventure a very safe one.

Today the route was long (100 miles) but fairly easy. Nothing like yesterday's route (I don't think there is anything harder than yesterday's route).

What was very difficult was to get out of the sleeping bag! Every single muscle of my legs was screaming and very tense. We took our time to get ready and leave camp. I took the 7:00am 20 min. stretching lesson and it really helped a lot to give my legs the jump start they needed.

We are all very tired from the punishing climbing of yesterday's route. So we all eat and hydrate well and get ready for the day. It is so much easier and "natural" to socialize more when our minds are not overwhelmed by the pressure of a demanding route. Today every one seems to be in better spirits - tired, but in great spirits - looking forward to doing our mileage!

Patrick, Kevin and I rode together the entire day. One thing about this ride is that people end up making new friends; sometimes friends for life. I hope that is the case with Kevin, Patrick and me. We are learning that we have more things in common than just riding our bikes. We have talked about the possibility of doing other events together, such as the YMCA Mud Run in June, down in Camp Pendleton.

The plans for doing AIDS/LifeCycle next year are already in motion. I might be interested in helping as a "Roadie" next year, instead of riding. Being a Roadie will give me - I think - a much better understanding and appreciation of what an event of this magnitude involves and, then, I would have experienced the "ride" as a "whole."

Day 4 has been very mild compared to previous days and the route took us through beautiful, scenic roads, down to the coast of Monterey, Pebble Beach and ended at a very nice campsite - Priesker Park, in Santa Maria.

Day 5! I can't believe we've been riding and camping for five days now! The ride in general has been so enjoyable that time has gone by so quickly. Today is the day when we finally have the chance to relax, since the route is so short (only 54 miles) and fairly easy.

We left Santa Maria around 8:15am and did all the rest stops and lunch stops as planned. We arrived at camp around 1:00pm. This is a very nice park outside of Lompoc called River Park. After setting up our tents, taking showers and eating, we are now getting ready to see tonight's entertainment: a Talent Show!! Sounds like a lot of fun! We'll see what kind of "talents" we have amongst us. Can hardly wait! The show starts at 7:30pm … better go and grab a chair before it's too late!

As I said at the top of today's recap: It seems almost impossible that 5 days have gone by and we are still here getting ready for another day and another after that. I keep surprising myself when I realize that I am stronger that I ever thought I was, not just physically but also emotionally. This ride is indeed changing the perception that I have of myself and of life. After all this pedaling I think it's OK to pat myself on the back.

The day begins with the some routine of the previous five: get up, run to the Porta Potties, wash your face, brush your teeth, get your breakfast, take the stretching class, run back to your tent and start the breakdown and wrap-up, get your gear, get your bag and tent to the truck, get your bottles refilled, run to your bike and get going - hit the road! Wow! And when we finally got it down to perfection we realize today is Day Six, Saturday. The ride ends tomorrow, Sunday.

For some strange reason the weather this morning makes everything look sadder, somber. It is damp all around - the sky is so gray and we won't be seeing any sunlight probably until mid-afternoon. The first point of today's ride is 15 miles of gradual climb leaving Lompoc bound to Santa Barbara and then Ventura, where we'll spend our last evening as this group of crazy Cyclists, Roadies and staff.

On the way to the first stop I had the opportunity to pass several of the cyclists along the way - the smiles are sad but their spirits are high - everyone their own thoughts, perhaps reflecting on the week that is coming to an end.

Once we started to ride downhill, feeling the cold wind on my face triggered all the memories of the days we've lived together and that are blending together as part of our history. All the anticipation, the fear, the love and support we've received from family, friends and unknown people, the stories we've shared, the laughter, the tears, the pain that has brought joy not just to us but - hopefully - to many others …

All this runs through my mind as I ride my bike downhill, just like a videotape of some of my most precious memories, and I know that it will all run again and again every time I feel the wind blowing on my face.

I ride behind someone I've met who is HIV positive. I stay behind him looking at his legs that won't stop pedaling as we ride southbound along the coast. Few seconds later another cyclist passed us while she sings "We Are the Champions" (a well-known song by the group Queen): "We are the champions, my friends / And we'll keep on fighting, till the end." I just couldn't hold it any more. Tears filled up my eyes and I started sobbing in the middle of Highway 1.

If the twenty-something guy in front of me knew what a source of inspiration, respect and admiration he has been to me. To see him ride like the wind every day, with the deepest conviction and hope in his heart. I couldn't have asked for a better blessing than to get to know him, to ride with him, and this makes all the training, fund raising, and every single one of the 600 miles worthwhile. I have received my reward.

We rode through Santa Barbara and made it to Ventura around 5:00pm. You can see and feel the satisfaction on the cyclists' faces, in their voices. We are now closer to home - L.A. The nightly stage in camp was mostly dedicated to recognize those who have worked in the planning, execution and supervision of the ride. Imagine the logistics that an event like this involves! I can't remember if I already mentioned this but it takes dozens and dozens of people to put this together and make it work. Most importantly: make it very safe for all the cyclists.

Hats off for all the Roadies, road deputies, staff, medical and technical support. Their job has been flawless, and, honestly, we couldn't have made it this far without their hard, hard work and commitment.

Tomorrow will be a short route to West Hollywood, our final destination. I don't know if I will have the time or the opportunity to write anything else for the webcast, so I am going to wrap it up tonight.

I read somewhere that a human being should be able to reach or accomplish certain goals in life: Make their first million dollars, have a child, write a book and plant a tree.

I took the liberty of re-prioritizing those goals:

1. Get a bike and join AIDS/LifeCycle next year.
   
   
2. Make a million dollars and donate them to AIDS/LifeCycle.
   
   
3. Have a child and teach him or her about AIDS, how to prevent it and about the human suffering due to this pandemic. Teach them about love and compassion.
   
   
4. Write a book about your experience during AIDS/LifeCycle and share it with the world.
   
   
5. Plant a tree - with your child - to honor all of those living with HIV and AIDS and in memory of those who have died to AIDS.

I am about to finish my first AIDS/LifeCycle.

I am back from a trip that has shown me a world of love, courage and kindness. I not only still have what I started it with (my two legs and my health) but I am coming back with a better understanding of what human kind needs the most: one another.

My life will never be the same. Thank you AIDS/LifeCycle!!

"If life is worth living
it has to be run
as the means for giving
not as a race to be won.
Many roads will run
through many lives
but somehow we'll arrive."

After the events of day 7 I knew I had to come back to finish this journal. A day like Sunday, May 19 cannot go unregistered or untold.

I started the day rushing through my morning routine at camp. I got up a bit late and most of my friends were way ahead on their "take-off" preparations.

Even though the idea of going home that afternoon seemed very appealing, I found myself reasoning with the sadness of leaving our very last campsite of the week. Why would I miss camp? The answer would come to me once on the road, over the 68 miles ahead of us, on our way to West Hollywood.

For someone who had never slept in a tent before or owned a road bike prior to January 2002, this had been quite a humbling and learning experience. Camp was the place were we all got our daily nourishment, not just from the great food served daily but also the kind of nourishment that comes from human contact with other riders. We shared stories, celebrated our victories and vented our frustrations at the end of each day.

At camp we always heard words of encouragement from Cyclists, Roadies, volunteers, medical support and staff. Minor details such as not knowing how to put my tent together never became a problem since I had Patrick, who thought me how to set it up and then I had 'heaven-sent' Kevin, who many times helped me break it down and pack my stuff in the mornings. In camp I could run to Roger (hello, gorgeous!) for a big, tight hug whenever I needed one. In camp I could speak freely, joke around and laugh with Chad and Louis (helloooo, boys!). In camp we were a big happy family.

We made it to lunch stop. By that time people were becoming anxious to get to West Hollywood; some of them already making celebration plans for the evening. I wasn't sure of who would be there to meet me when it all ended, but it didn't matter at that moment. I was starting to feel overwhelmed by the anticipation of the closing ceremonies and by the increasing traffic on PCH. So characteristic of LA!

As we rode through Santa Monica, Brentwood, Beverly Hills and, finally, West Hollywood, I lost count of all the hand-made signs and banners that people had brought out to salute their friends or loved ones who were riding, to welcome them home, to express their gratitude to one and all riders.

We reached the end of the ride at West Hollywood Park. I never thought the act of dismounting my bike could be done so ceremoniously. This old 12-speed Univega -- with only two-chain wheels -- had been my reliable vehicle from beginning to end. My cousins Randy and Stephanie Budde, who live in Hayward, CA (love you, guys!), gave me this bike when I first announced I wanted to participate in ALC-1, back in December 2001. Today, this bike and I finished the journey. It took very good care of me: never failed, never broke down -- not even a flat tire -- and it sure took a lot of abuse during this trip too. Dismounting, an act we could not wait to do at the end of each day of the ride, had become at this particular moment, a meaningful, almost sad thing to do.

The closing ceremonies were short, simple and heartfelt. We were there remembering the last seven days of work, joy and comradeship. We were there celebrating the end of what I call "a week for disconnecting from the mundane and re-connecting with the humane," a week back to basics as a community that cares. We were there trying to make a difference in the lives of those who live with HIV and AIDS and in return we had received the gift of friendship -- the sense of togetherness and equality in the fight against AIDS.

As we stood with our bikes on Santa Monica Blvd., I looked up and saw familiar faces amongst the audience (my dearest Kinji, Mario, John, Neal and later, Bob and Hank). They took pictures of my weeping face (they'll pay for that later!). They helped me get my bag in Hank's car and my bike in Roger's SUV. I ran into Patrick for the last time that day at bag retrieval. We exchanged a few words and I lost it again. We kind of ran from each other at this point. Too much, too soon.

After that, a group of eight of us, including my friends, went for some dinner to a local restaurant. It was quite the feeling to re-live the experience as we told our stories to those who didn't have the opportunity to ride this year. The good news is that, right there and then, two of our friends committed to fund raising and riding ALC-2 in 2003. The bad news, I guess, is that they will have to wait another 8-9 months to start the journey.

I had to be at work Monday morning, so after dinner I went home and didn't even worry about unpacking. I took a long, warm shower and went to sleep. My bed never felt this good before!

At 5:00 a.m. my eyes popped open. My first impulse was to turn to my left looking for the other sleeping bag and I thought, "Where is my tent mate?! It's time to get up!!" soon to realize that I was alone in my bed, in my bedroom, at home.

Later, at the office, I felt as if I were there physically but not mentally or emotionally. My thoughts and spirit were somewhere out there, on my bike, riding down the glorious California coastline, and I know I will feel the same way for many months to come, every time the morning winds blow on my face.

P.S. Roger, I owe all this to you. You initially inspired me to be part of ALC-1. Boy, were you right! When I grow up, I want to be just like you! Luv ya! Efren.