June 4
Getting ready for this event has already been an incredible
journey since I registered last December. Training has
been a bit of a mixed bag, though. I have put over 2,000
miles
on my bike in preparation for this event. I started out
very well and even surprised myself how fast I was progressing.
Then at the end of April, I participated in the Santa
Barbara ride (200 miles in two days). I had to stop riding on the
second day because of incredible knee pain. It felt like
such a letdown – and matters got worse from there.
At one point, I was stranded by the side of the road and
could not even lift my leg over the top bar of my bike
because of the intense pain. Apparently, my illiotibial bands caused all the trouble
(or much of it anyway, who ever knew we even had such things…).
I went to see a doctor, chiropractor and professional bike
fitter, started working with a personal trainer and put yoga
back on my schedule. It seems that the intense stretching
I have done during the last month has paid off. I missed
a few weeks of training at the most crucial time, but the
good news is that I feel strong again and much more hopeful
about the ride.
Sunday was my last training ride. It turned out to be a
very moving and significant day. At first I had not even
planned on riding with a group that day. I attended the concert
of my friend and ALC tent mate, Bernie. Even though the evening
got a little late, I was up and ready at seven in the morning.
My body clock was telling me it was time to go cycling. The
ride was to honor our fellow cyclist Drew Franklin who has
recently passed away. I didn’t know Drew, but I was
very moved by his friends talking about their love for him
and what a wonderful person he was. We were asked to remember
why we are cycling, remember the friends we have lost and
to hold onto the loved ones in our lives today. We took off
on our bikes. As I was pedaling, I was thinking of Larry,
Bob and Thomas and how they touched my life. At one point,
tears rushed to my eyes. It is good to cry; it’s telling
me that my soul still misses them. Something in me had just
taken hold; I practically flew down the Pacific Coast Highway.
I felt very strong, and was the first to arrive at our pit
stop in Malibu.
On the way back, I was cycling a little behind the first
group. All of the sudden, I saw a cloud of sand and a rider
falling. I stopped and since there already was a group with
the cyclist, my first instinct was to warn the other riders,and
to slow down car traffic. My heart stopped when I came to
the scene of the accident a bit later. My friend Karrin was
lying injured on her back on the ground. I waited until she
was in an ambulance on her way to the hospital. We had a
picnic after the ride celebrating the end of the training
season, but everyone’s mind was with Karrin. It turns
out she separated her shoulder. She’s ok and will join
us, but will not be able to ride her bicycle. She’ll
be riding with us even if she can’t be on her bike!
Get well soon, we love you.
Day 1 (Sunday, June 8)
I started the day like everyone else with a very moving yet simple opening ceremony. I was especially
touched when over 1,300 cyclists and roadies (the wonderful support crew) remembered why and who
we are riding for. There was an incredible power over the baseball field at USF.
Soon after we took off, I blew out my back tire (around mile 25). Following my first visit to the
Bike Techs I was able to continue towards Santa Cruz.
Riding through some of the most beautiful scenery along the California coast, I couldn’t
help but think how incredibly lucky I am to be doing this. We might be helping others by rising
money for critical HIV/AIDS services, but we receive so much more than we give; a strange column
of cyclists biking through thick fog, enjoying the smell of the redwood forest, and the sites
of rolling hills of farm country, and finally the waves crashing up against the rocky cliffs.
The people involved with this event continue to amaze me. Perhaps this is the biggest gift of
them all.
Day 2 (Monday, June 9)
I did not sleep very well last night and woke up to a wet tent. Needless to say, I did not start
out in the happiest of moods. Riding through a drizzle and rain did not exactly help things. Thankfully,
soon things started to change and when all was said and done, I had spent one of the most wonderful
days.
I rode for most of the day with Breken. The weather started improving
as we moved away from the coast. We laughed, we screamed, we hollered
and we shared some touching moments relating why we were riding.
We stopped to taste steamed artichokes, fresh from the fields.
One of the rest stops was next to a small mission in Soledad. I lit a candle and wrote a message
on a cloth over the altar which the small church had set up for the cyclists. They will use it
ford their Sunday services this week.
When stopped to meet Chris, an incredible lady in a rather extravagant “girl-scout dress”
who started baking cookies three months ago so she would have enough for every cyclist.
There was so much to see and do, it seems. Between every stop we, were pedaling faster so we could
experience more.
We were riding like the wind, and it was both the laughter and the connection to the soul which
made this such a memorable day.
Day 3 coming soon
Day 4 (Wednesday, June 11)
Just when I thought things could not get any tougher, they did.
Day 4 was the hardest so far. I started out feeling ok. Thinking
that the worst from yesterday was behind me. We left Camp, and soon
after started the climb towards the “Evil Twins.” They
totally deserve their name.
I was already feeling low on energy after climbing the first of
the “Evil Sisters,” so I took a breather and then went
on to tackle the second, which turned out to be less trying than
I had actually anticipated it to be.
It was a joyous moment, though when we reached the half-way point
to Los Angeles. We took some pictures and soon started on the so
well-deserved downhill ride. It is hard to describe the joy of flying
down a hill that you have worked so hard to climb!
The scenery continued to be absolutely gorgeous as we continued
cycling through hills and vineyards. Soon, I was able to enjoy the
surroundings, and became more involved in my own battle with myself
to continue cycling.
Everything in my body screamed, “STOP!” Yet, for miles
upon miles I continued pedaling. I tried to reach within and remember
why I am doing this ride, and remember Larry’s struggle.
I was thinking about the devastation of this disease and how it
continues to affect our lives. We’ve lived with it for 20
years and there is still no end in sight.
I just kept pedaling, but by the time I arrived at Rest Stop 3,
it seemed I had used up all the energy I had. I was so tired and
felt I could not continue. Had it not been for Breken, I am not
sure if I could have finished the ride that day.
He reminded me how hard I had trained for this, and that I had
the strength to continue. We headed back out of the rest stop, and
I finished every mile to Camp.
Thanks, Breken, for your friendship and for being the best cheerleader
ALC has seen! I had reached beyond my limits.
Day 6 (Friday, June 13)
I took a day off from writing in my journal. Yesterday was a great day for me. I felt stronger
than the two previous days and had a great time riding. The route was shorter (55 miles) but quite
hilly. I arrived in camp early and got the chance to take things a little easier, wash some clothes,
reorganize my bag and socialize with some of the people I have met here.
Today was an absolutely glorious day. It was overcast and chilly when we left Lompoc a little after
seven in the morning. We started climbing hills soon after. I felt great, I felt strong and I
felt so happy to be with this incredible group of people.
At times I have to smile -- this is a colorful, wild and perhaps a little crazy bunch. You probably
have to be a bit crazy to attempt this ride. The spirit of everyone, Cyclists and Roadies, is
incredible and pulls you along. It is this spirit that carries me up hills and allows me to reach
beyond my limits.
The sun started to peek out of the clouds as we descended and the weather could not have been more
glorious by the time we reached the Southern California coast. Layers of clothes started coming
off, sun screen came on and everyone's spirit soared. The scenery of Santa Barbara County was
spectacular, cycling along the coast seeing pelicans flying in formation and even dolphins off
the Ventura coast.
It seems strange that tomorrow will be the last day of this event. I am not sure how I feel about
all of this coming to an end. I am amazed that I have cycled over 500 miles by now and still feel
great. I am sad to be leaving this family of strangers who have come together to challenge themselves
and celebrate the human spirit. I am also looking forward to riding into Los Angeles tomorrow,
to see my friends and to celebrate the accomplishment.
Day 7 (Saturday, June 14)
As the sun rose you could already tell it would be a picture-perfect
day. I was filled with anticipation because the final day had arrived;
today we would be riding into Los Angeles and I would see my friends
at the "finish line." Yet I felt sad at the same time;
today would also be the last time I was riding with this group of
newfound friends and this incredible experience would come to an
end. I took down my tent together with Brian, ate breakfast and
shot some last pictures of life in camp with my friends.
A little after seven I hit the road together with my ride buddy
Breken. I was filled with gratitude as I cycled through the strawberry
fields of Oxnard to Point Mugu and continued along the spectacular
Malibu coast. A little over a month ago I had to stop riding on
this very route, because my knees were hurting so bad. For a while
I thought the injury might prevent me from doing ALC. But today
I was pedaling strong even against head winds, it felt great!
Knowing that we would only be waiting in the "holding pit"
if we made it into West Hollywood too early, we took our time with
lunch. So much time in fact that all of a sudden the lunch stop
was going to close in 20 minutes. In a hurry we got back on our
bicycles for the last stretch from Malibu into Los Angeles. I was
running on pure adrenalin. The sheer excitement of being close to
having accomplished this ride, knowing that I would see my friends,
the satisfaction of five months of training having paid off and
the power of this group of Cyclists and Roadies carried me on wings.
People cheering along the side of the road touched me even deeper.
I was filled with gratefulness; I was truly coming home!
We checked into the holding area, received our special shirt for
the closing ceremony and were soon heading for the last "triumphant
spin around the block." As we pulled into San Vicente I first
saw my friend Scott and shortly after him I spotted John and John.
I was so touched; they had come with flowers and signs to welcome
me home. The closing ceremony was beautiful, I choked up as the
Roadies and Volunteers entered toward the stage and the wheel of
life was brought to the stage. Honestly I don't think I was able
to grasp the entire ceremony, the feelings were almost overwhelming.
I could not stop hugging my friends. As we did during the opening,
I joined hands with my friends, fellow Cyclists and thousands of
people of this ALC family. We closed our eyes and remembered why
we rode. It brought tears to my eyes, thinking of my friends and
knowing that I had been given an incredible gift, yet being painfully
aware that we cannot rest because this fight must continue until
we find a cure.
June 23
I have waited a little over a week for the last entry in this journal,
hoping to get more perspective of what my participation in AIDS/LifeCycle
has meant to me. I have had some time to reflect, but I am sure
in a week or a month from today, impressions and thoughts will continue
to surface as I have gained so much from this journey. I remember
friends telling me that this would be a life-changing experience.
One thing I know for sure; I will never forget this miraculous week
that has touched me in so many different ways.
It has renewed my belief in the goodness of people and the strength
of the human spirit. I have been given a week among over 1,300 people
who mostly treated each other with the utmost kindness, love and
respect. I feel blessed to have witnessed this spirit of people
supporting each other, where for one week we¹re all members
of a community with a common goal: to take a strong stand and help
people affected by HIV/AIDS.
Kindness was present everywhere I went and it seems impossible
to recount: the food service crew that had nothing but smiles and
encouragement; massage therapists and medical crews that worked
the most grueling shifts to help cyclists; the people setting up
camp and its services or the incredible luggage crew who not only
never complained about my "armoire on wheels," but whisked
it off the truck with a smile.
This same spirit ruled the road: the moto crew working tirelessly
to keep us safe; the marvelous, funny and creative rest stop crews;
the angels in support vehicles who reminded us to "hydrate
and pee" in countless variations that always brought a smile
to my face; cyclists stopping to help someone change a flat or cheering
others on a particularly tough hill. The ride would not have been
the same without Ginger, the Chicken Lady or "Mom and Dad,"
who always seem to appear on the side of the road, just when cycling
got a little tougher.
A few years ago, I would not have thought that I could ride a bicycle
for seven days and complete almost 600 miles. I learned a lot about
myself. I found a strength that I did not know I had. I learned
to no longer accept limitations, but to move beyond them. I learned
that I could and needed to let go of my ego, because no matter how
hard I trained, I could not predict the outcome of the ride. All
I could do was ride to the best of my ability and I learned that
I would be taken care of. The miles I cycled were important to me,
but what really matters is the money and the awareness we raised
for AIDS/HIV services, that we were able to help people in need.
For a week I was part of a group of people who believe that we can
make a difference!
I have received so much more than I could ever give. I remember
dealing with the devastation of this disease and losing the one
I loved more than anything in this world, alone and without support.
I remember what it felt like having to be careful about disclosing
information for fear of reprisal. Yet I know for many people in
the world this is still their desperate reality today. How lucky
am I to be cycling among this group with such incredible support
from my friends and sponsors! I will never know why I have been
spared, when so many people around me were dying. What I do know
is that I can cycle for people who cannot. During this week I have
been given a sense of what is important in my life, I hope that
I can carry this with me into my daily routine.
I want to end this entry by expressing my gratitude for the wonderful
people I have shared this journey with. You know who you are; my
friends who inspired me to do this, my sponsors who humbled me with
their generosity, my ride leaders and fellow cyclists who made me
feel welcome from the first day, I carry you with me in my heart!
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