Experience AIDS/LifeCycle 5 (2006)

Day 1: Guess what happens when you sneeze in the wind...

Okay, guess what happens when you have a big gooey sneezing fit when riding fast down a hill in to the wind.

Okay, now guess why I totally know the answer to that.

It is the end of day #1 on AIDS/Lifecycle and I've made some friends, and I've also found my arch nemesis.  That nemesis, seasonal allergies.  I'm serious man, after lunch today I spent the whole day sneezing.  You could hear it on the Pacific Coast Highway all the way to Santa Cruz, our first camp spot.  Good thing the medical team has plenty of Claritan and Sudafed.  The non-drowsy stuff.

Friday before I left, my mother asked me "Gary, are there rest stops?"  Which, I mean, I love my mother, but I couldn't help but laugh, and since there might be people who want to know how this big traveling city works, here's how it goes.  YES, there are rest stops, our amazing crew of roadies and supporters set up rest stops throughout the day that are clearly marked.  NO, we don't have to carry our gear on our bikes, our roadies load that on to gear trucks and send them along, so that our gear is waiting for us when we arrive at camp.  We loaded up all those trucks at 5am this morning from Daly City, our starting point.  (you can totally click on the pictures for the larger versions.)

At opening cermonies this morning I was filled with a quiet nervousness, a "what is going to happen when they open the doors and we actually start riding" feeling.  But as it turns out, the doors opened and that all went away, we were greeted by crowd of supporters and a beautiful California sun.  And then, well its just like riding a bike (I know...I know...)

So I knew this going in to it all but today on day one, it was confirmed.  CALIFORNIA IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PLACE ON THE PLANET.  No wonder everyone wants to live here.

That's me and my tent mate and dear friend James at the Crystal Springs resivoir rest stop.  See, gorgeous, and the scenery ain't that bad either.  James is one of the big reasons that I'm doing the ride.  He and I both went to closing ceremonies last year, he made the decision to ride, and supported me in making my decision, helped me save up for my bike, kept me informed about training rides, and was the go-to guy for bike questions.  On the ride, he reminds me when to eat and drink, and puts up with my snoring. 

So, I said before we have an amazing crew of roadies that set all the camp services and rest stops.  They are also supporters, they cheer for us on the road, and help keep us going.  This morning at the top of a VERY big hill there was a roadie in a neon yellow wig handing out RedVines licorice candy.  Thank you roadie in a neon yellow wig handing out RedVince licorice candy.  I love you.

There are lots of supporters on the road cheering as well, some are few and far between, but when they are there it means something.

I wish I had taken a picture of what I am about to describe, but it was unsafe to stop at the time.  On one of the last 10 miles today there was a man standing alone at an intersection.  He had a home made sign with a picture of someone close to him that died of AIDS and the year they passed away.  Underneath that picture were the words:

                                            "THANK YOU FOR RIDING."

Yeah, it keeps you going.

Days remaining:  6.
Miles to Los Angeles: 467.
Legs:  Sexy.

p.s. you're going to just have to deal with it if there are spelling errors and grammar problems.  I rode about 80 miles today.  So there.

Day 2: I totally biked over 100 miles. For serious.

This is what I look like waking up in the morning.  I awoke James with camp songs from when I used to go to Boy Scout camp and then ceremoniously deflating the air mattress while he still slept on it.  We're friends.

What?  Free fruit smoothies and coffee, are you kidding me?  Steve at The Ugly Mug coffee shop in Santa Cruz surely wasn’t.  There’s Steve.  And me.  Riders were treated to free smoothies in the morning, and a hearty “thanks for riding.”  I love the sound of that.  And at no extra charge, I got an ice-cream headache.

Today we rode 105 miles.  I’m totally not kidding.  Its 9pm and I am completely exhausted.  Today was the one day I really wanted to focus on my riding and push it as far as I could.  I mean, c’mon 105 freaking miles!

Luckily I ran in to Southern California Cycling Vixen and good friend of mine, Jennifer Diamond.  We rode together most of the day and kept each other going.  Jennifer is good for support like “do you even know how to shift?!?” and “Keep peddling, why on earth would you want to coast right now?!?”  Thanks, Jen.

And there were Artichokes.  Fresh ones, I probably spelled that wrong, but whatever.  Here’s me and Jen and James enjoying delicious Artichokes from a local farm stand that I can’t really remember the name of in my exhaustion right now.

So, yeah the big story of the day, is that we biked 105 miles. These “cyclists” I seem to be riding with call that a “century.”  I did my first one today.  It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done physically in my life.  There was a certain point where I had to literally say out loud to myself “keep going…keep going…keep going…keep going…”  I know, that sounds really lame and weird, but at mile 80, it was “whatever it takes.”  Luckily the roadies and supporters were all out in full force once again.

Here’s me at the top of a hill at around mile 100.  Totally worth it.

James says that he bikes better in groups, and I never really understood that until today.

There is such wonderful comfort in knowing that there is someone right behind you.

There are a million emotions going through my head right now, and tomorrow I'll have the time to sit down and tell you all about them.

Goodnight from King City, California.  See you tomorrow.

Days remaining: 5
Miles to Los Angeles: 361
Legs:  Feelin’ it.

Day 3: Delicious Tan Lines

Today’s flavor of Gary’s Arm Tan Line is:  NEOPOLITAN.  Enjoy Vanilla, Strawberry, and….Strawberrier..

So first, here’s an update from yesterday’s post.  Its very important.  I told my friend Jennifer Diamond that I talked about her yesterday on my blog about the way she expressed her “support.”  She responded with “NOW EVERYONE ON THE INTERNET THINKS I’M MEAN!!!”  That is, technically not true.  Jennifer Diamond is a lovely lady who is very kind.  She just tells it like it is, being from New England and all..In fact, the things she said yesterday really helped me get thorugh my day today, I AM better at shifting and really there isn’t much of a reason to stop peddaling.

So that’s the theme today, and that’s what has been running through my head all day yesterday and all day today.  Support.   It might sound corny, but its true. This is my frist time on AIDS/LifeCycle and I wasn’t sure what to expect, honestly I was expecting a lot of “extreme sport cycling ego” and a sort of “too bad you can’t make it at the end of the day, sucker.” Then today things really started clicking in my head.  There’s a lot of time to think on the road, and I’m sort of observing and participating at the same time.

Today was the infamous “Quadbuster” hill day, which is constantly talked about, its about a mile climb and is notoriously steep.  After a cold morning, the sun broke out and temperatures rose right before hitting the hill.  The going was especially slow for me, but there was the sound of other riders, the roadies cheering us on, the sound of cowbells from supporters filling my ears.  Also, my fellow riders passing me on the left with a “see you at the top!” or a “looking good!” and a simple “you can do this” made me keep working.

I fell for the first time today, my chain slipped and I was going too slow to clip out of my peddals, BAM.  I hit pavement.  My first thought was “I’m going to hate myself if I make anyone else fall.”  Luckily no one did, and I was able to clear the road with a few bruises and a scraped hand.  Then about 100 people asked me if I was okay.  Which I was.   I took time out to get myself un-frazzled and rather than just sit there, I thought (since there were people doing this the day before and it was much appreciated by me) to start giving out free pushes.  I clapped and cheered and yelled out “WHO WANTS A PUSH!?” and then those that did got a push and run up the hill from yours truly.  I received a push up a steep incline from a roadie the previous day, and it helped me get up that hill, and then today I decided to return the favor.  I actually found that it was more fun than riding.

Here’s a look at the steep hill.  It was hot, too.

Then at the top, the roadies and the other cyclists were all there when I rolled in cheering and waving and high-fiving, etc.  And it made me pedal faster. What I’ve noticed here on Day #3 is that the first-day jitters for me, and for anyone else who had them are gone, people are getting to know each other, and acting down right neighborly.  I said to Jennifer after dinner tonight, “can you belive how NICE everyone is being to each other?”  She agreed.  I have never heard “please” and “thank you” said so much in my life.  People here are helping each other out wherever they can, on the road, setting up tents, getting their luggage.  People are TALKING to each other, laughing with each other, because well, we’re all here, we all have AT LEAST one thing in common to talk about during the day ( “how is your ride?” )  to get the conversation going.  I am truly amazed.  When cylclists come home the roadies and other cyclists are there cheering each other on.  When the last rider arrives with all the sweep vehicles and our road support staff, no matter where you are in camp, people start making noise and applauding.

We are all supporting each other, moving this community of over 2000 people from San Francisco to Los Angeles.  Scott Campbell from Positive Pedalers tonight at dinner said “wouldn’t it be great if the entire world was like this for one week as well?”

Given the context of WHY we’re all riding, I think all the analogies that you can take out of what I’ve written above are clear.  We’re all in this together.  Each rider has a pin that was given to them at Orientation Day that says "We Are All Living With AIDS."

There are about 100 cyclists and roadies already signed up for next year.  I’m one of them.

Goodnight from Paso Robles, California.

Days Remaining: 4
Miles To Los Angeles: 284
Legs:  I've got them.  And I know how to use them.

Day 4: When you spend all day hydrating, your only free time is spent peeing.

For serious, I went to the bathroom about 20 times today.  I drank so much.  Its important.

I love camping.  I haven’t camped out in like 9 years.  When I’m at home, I hate waking up, but there’s something about waking up in a tent at 5am in a sleeping bag that exhilarates me.  James, my tent-mate isn’t really “down” with my GOOD MORNING attitude.  But, he’ll just have to deal.  Some people actually do the ride, raise the money, but stay in hotels along the way.  We call that "The Princess Tour."  I'm sure its not as fun though.

This is what our tent city looks like.

To put icing on the cake of waking up in a tent, is that my breakfast is waiting for me.  Just get in line, and then pile a mess of scrambled eggs on my plate.  I have been eating like a horse for the past four days.  I’m not kidding.  I knew I was going to look forward to the food, and I’m not disappointed. Last night I flipped out (in a good way) because the corn muffins were back.  I love those.

This is what dinner looks like.  You can sit next to anyone, and most likely they’ll be friendly.

Today at meals and at rest stops, I ate:

• A truckload of scrambled eggs and spinach
• Four oranges
• Three bananas
• Five cliff bars
• One honkin’ turkey sandwich
• Three bags of Ritz Bitz cheese cracker snacks
• 6,000,000,000 gallons of Gatorade (margin of error +/- 5 gallons)
• A field of salad
• Almost a whole chicken
• A vat of rice.

And I’m still hungry.

So while yesterday I talked about how we all support each other here, there is a certain amount of Do-It-Yourself-ness that I like.  Most of it revolves around the schedule.  Camp services (food, showers, camp store, massage, sports medicine, etc) are only open for a certain amount of time each day.  Rest stops are only open until a certain time, so you have to plan your riding accordingly.  I’m a slow rider, I typically awake at 5am, out on the road at 7 or earlier.  I know that on a day like today (we rode 96 miles, with three of our steepest climbs on the route) that its going to take me ALL DAY.  Some riders start at 6:30am and then are done at 1pm (this is true) because they are amazing athletes, me on the other hand, not so much.  The route CLOSES at 7pm, which means if you’re still out on the road, you get swept up by the sweep cars.  Today I rolled in around 6:50pm.  What I sort of miss out on is a bit of a camp atmosphere, because I show up late.  I’d LOVE to hang around and cheer on other riders, but I guess that’ll happen more next year.

This is what it looks like at bike parking when I show up, yeah lots of other bikes.

But it is ABSOLUTELY exhilarating to pull in to camp after a long day on my bike.  Today I rolled in to our camp at Santa Maria and I could hear the other bikers and roadies cheering almost half a mile away.  AND NOW THE PART WHERE I ALMOST CRY AT THE END OF THE DAY:  Turning the corner right before the last stretch headed to camp, there was this little girl who lived in the neighborhood, just out cheering on the riders and dancing in the sun, she looked up at me as I passed by and I just heard a little voice say “good job” and I almost completely lost it right there.

So a wonderful day, to be honest, I’m concentrating on my riding, or getting to the next rest stop or just being completely overjoyed by the scenery, that  I never really know where exactly I am throughout the day, but it feels real good to be there.

Oh yeah, this happened today too.

Goodnight from (I'm sure of this) Santa Maria, California

Days Remaining: 3
Miles To Los Angeles: 200
Legs:  Powered by Corn Muffins and Gatorade

Day 5: I fell off my bike, in a dress

First, thanks for all your comments! I totally don't have time to respond and start a discussion thread, but they are appreciated.

So out of all the emotions one can and will experiences on LifeCycle, one that eventually happens is a “hmmm…I’m not feeling exactly 100% peppy” feeling.  It happens, we’re exhausted from riding, sleeping well one night and poorly the next, and no matter how much we take care of our bodies, if  we miss a cookie or one bottle of Gatorade, there is a good chance one of us will get cranky.

Today was my day.

To start, actually, I had a wonderful breakfast with fellow blogger Jon Garrison and his “new tentmate” Mike (who I keep calling Steve*)  Jon and I have been getting along famously as we usually end up in the blogging tent (also known as the “you can’t check your email tent”) at the end of the night at the same time, both frazzled from the road and typically annoy everyone else in the tent with our “wacky antics.”  Jon, Mike (Steve?) and I actually were discussing this morning, growing up and being how we were educated in school and growing up about HIV and AIDS, and we all sort of shared our experiences.  I’m really glad I met Jon on this ride, you can check his blog out here, and learn more about him if you haven’t already.  Plus he laughs at most everything I say, so that scores him major points.

So, great breakfast, then everything sort of fell apart for me.  Today is “Red Dress Day” where everyone dresses in red dresses, it came about as  “Dress In Red Day” as there is a part on the route where the road loops and if everyone is wearing red, it looks like a ribbon.  But then, well, it sort of morphed and now it’s “Red Dress Day”  So everyone is having a good time getting dressed and laughing and frankly, I just wanted to get on my bike.  My head was congested again, I ran out of decongestant, and that meant I had to make a stop at the drug store or wait until I got the the next rest stop to talk to someone at Medical.  So there was stuff to do.  And it was cold this morning.  And I was wearing a dress.  Real cold.  Shivery.

Here's me and James in our regalia.

Oh, and my legs are really sore today.  I’ve been riding a lot.  So today I rode real slow.

In the mornings, riders pass me and they say “Good morning! On your left!”  Typically when people pass me, I ring the bell on my bike and smile, or say “thank you” to acknowledge that they are passing.  I might even say something funny or “Go rider!” to cheer someone on.  Today a lot of people were passing me.  Quickly.  In groups.  So I heard “on your left” a lot, and frankly I just wanted quiet.  Then it sort of turned in to this.

“On your left!”
[ding ding]
“On your left!”
“Thank you”
“On your left!”
“Okay…”
“On your left!”
“I know.”
“On your left!”
“I…..KNOW”
“On your left!”
“STOP TALKING TO ME!”
“On your left!”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“On your left!”
“ON YOUR LEFT!”
“On your left!”
“[grumble]…so’s your face.”
“What?”
“….”

So I certainly realized that I needed some sugar, I was mad for not planning accordingly.  At rest stop 1, I sort of “half jokingly” and “mostly seriously” unloaded in front of Jon and yelled “I’M TIRED! I’VE RIDDEN 6,000,000 MILES, MY BUTT HURTS! THERE ARE HILLS! I’M IN A DRESS AND I WANT A COOKIE!”

Jon thought this was hilarious, and then, out of nowhere, and I’m not kidding you, a stranger came up to me, a fellow rider and handed me a box of Chips Ahoy and said “be careful what you wish for.” 

Then I felt a like a total idiot, and Jon thought that was even funnier.

The route today was short, it was a low milage day, about 43.7 miles, so I was in by 3pm (exactly when the route closed) and it was ALL HILLS, up and down very steep climbs.  It hurt.  This did not improve my mood.  So I just kept quiet, in the red Liz Claiborne dress I bought yesterday for $5 at the Cayuses Gift N Thrift on yesterday’s ride.  Just kept quiet, to get through it, early day at camp.  Then on a long steep pitch, I got sunscreen in my eye and had to stop and pour water on it so I could keep riding.  After pushing my bike a few feet, I was ready to go up again, clipped in to my bike, and the hill was too steep to start, and I fell off my bike, and then backwards down the legde. In a dress. It was actually a little dangerous and I’m sure you could hear the expletives coming out of my mouth for miles.

But the first thing I saw when I got up was the hand of another rider.  Tim, I believe from Dallas, TX*  Helped me back up over the ledge, told me to shake it off, offered advice on how to start on steep hills, and in less than five minutes I was back up.  So there you have it, if you are having a bad day on The Ride, you can pretty much count on the spirit of others around you to keep you going.

Tonight in camp is our Talent Show, and dinner is very soon.  I’ll wrap it up with this, I think mostly I was in a cranky mood this morning because I know that its back to reality soon, and this one extraordinary week, meeting some of the most wonderful people I’ll ever meet is quickly coming to an end.  I’m not sure if I’m ready.

Goodnight from Lompoc, CA

Days remaining: 2
Miles to Los Angeles: 144ish
Legs: Cement

*Meeting people on The Ride is easy.  Remembering them the next day and their names is very difficult.  We have 1800 riders and 400 roadies/support staff.  When you meet someone on the road they have a helmet and sunglasses on.  If you meet them in camp, they look totally different on the road.  THEN if they have a different cycling jersey on the next day, you might as well just forget it and reintroduce yourself.  Most riders understand this phenomenon.

Day 6: Bike Brained

So, if it wasn't clear before in previous posts (if you get passed the gooey emotional stuff) LifeCycle is RIDICULOUSLY FUN. Sure there's dancing in the streets and organized fun events along the way, but for me the fun happens when everyone get Bike Brained.  That is what happens when you become so used to riding a bicycle all day, and focusing on EAT, BIKE, PEE, BIKE, EAT, PEE, BIKE, PEE, BIKE, EAT, that all other brain functions stop. 

Our amazing roadie and support staff crew have everything clearly labeled in camp with big arrows because frankly, we're like a bunch of really dumb cows wandering through pastures.  This morning I got out of my tent in the dark and realized I had NO IDEA where I was. People share their "bike brain" stories and we all sort of nod, add to it and laugh the hardest we have in a while. Its hilarious.  Also, this is when everyone gets tired and starts to show their real personality, people get comfortable with each other and boundries get broken down.  We start connecting.

I'd love to sit here and explain in detail all the hilarious things that has happened, and tell you exactly why my gut hurts from laughing so much, but its all "you had to be there" humor.  All I can say is that this morning I met up with James and Jen Diamond at our first rest stop and my face hurt from laughing so much.  Its that summer camp high that I totally live for.

Plus things get totally strange, like today The Viagra Guy was back.  There's this guy who dresses up on the side of the road in a big foam rubber blue pill suit with a sign that says "U R My Viagra."  I'm assuming this is a cheer for the riders.  He was there yesterday, and again today.  I asked him and he is neither a rider nor a roadie.  Strange.  So I just accept it and move on.  Emotions change on a dime here, and thats just what happens.  One minute you could be clawing up a hill slowly, with tears in your eyes, and then the next minute a guy in a dress hands you candy and then the world tastes delicous.

Its our last night in camp and emotions are high.  I experienced this today personally.  Tonight after I'm done blogging, we will head off to a candle light vigil down on the beach.  Its a moment to reflect and to grieve, and to be unified.  I was thinking about it today, and while going up a hill in Santa Barbara I just burst out in to tears.  Crying and peddling for at least two milies.  Thinking about Chris.

Chris was a kid in my high school, who was bussed in from another school district.  I didn't know him very well, and he wasn't in school a lot, he sort of came and went.  Some people knew him, but there was talk that he was just "sick a lot." 

Chris was a hemopheliac who got a blood transfusion early in his life and the blood was infected with HIV.  By the time he was in high school he had AIDS.  No one really knew the real story until he died, and even then, it wasn't very clear.  When the time came for his funeral, many students, even students who didn't know him went, which at the time, I didn't understand.  I did not go, because at the time, I thought, well...I didn't know him.  But I understand now why people wanted to show their support to his friends and family. 

There is an image in our yearbook of Chris smiling and just being a kid, waving with a ball cap on.  This image filled my head all day long, every second of the day, through every mile.

Tonight, I'll light my candle for that kid in a ballcap, smiling and waving, that I never got the chance to know.

We'll be in Los Angeles tomorrow.  Sleep well and goodnight from Ventura, CA.

-Gary

Days Remaining: 1
Miles to Los Angeles: 60
Legs: Don't matter.

Day 7: We did it.

Tonight, instead of blogging to you from a rowdy blogging tent next to Jon and Dusty and Midori, I'm sitting here in my apartment in West Hollywood, and my boyfriend is patiently waiting for me to finish this post.  I just got back from a pizza dinner with a bunch of friends, and soon I'll be off to sleep.

Today was our last 60 miles, and our closing ceremonies.  These last 60 miles were extremely emotional.  First, I was feeling very proud of myself, I was about to complete the entire trip, peddaling the entire route with no pushing, no stopping and no getting in to sweep vehciles.  I did it. I had set that one personal goal for myself and I am so happy about it.  Next year, however, having that under my belt, I'm going to take more time to stop and smell the roses.

I was starting to feel depressed riding today becuase well, the week was over, and our little community of 2000 people was going to disband for now, the cell phones started coming out at rest stops, buisiness was being conducted.  The landmarks of the outskirts of LA were getting more familliar.

Then I was excited, to see my friends, roll in to camp, home,  and just ready to close the week out.  It all sort of culminated on the PCH headed in to Santa Monica and I just felt woozy.  I sat down on a bench and took a rest and I simply asked a fellow rider for a hug, thats all I needed.  He immediately agreed and we just sat and talked, chatted, congratulated each other, and then, I was ready to finish.

Finishing the ride was a blur, hundreds of smiling faces, familliar faces of riders, supporters, screaming, cheering, high fiving, it was a total blur, I just had this big grin on my face.  I DID IT.  I called my father and he immediately fell to pieces saying how proud he was, I called my mom and it was the same thing.

After the closing ceremony it was time for goodbyes, there was a little disappointment as the crowd is so big, that I wasn't able to see everyone one last time, just becuase it was so busy.  Gladly, I got to give many hugs and say many thank yous and goodbyes to Jon Garrison. I can't say enough good things about this man.  I hope he rides next year, just so we can hang out.  He made my experience better just by being there and being himself.

I have always been talking about how this community of riders have been so supportive of each other, and something that was brought up in the closing speeches I want to reiterate. 

Yes, we raised $8,000,000, and AIDS/LifeCycle has become one of the most successful AIDS fundraisers in the world.  And what makes those statistics even more wonderful is the fact that this dedicated community of almost 2000 rider and roadies were about as diverse as you can get.  We had families, husbands, wives, straight men and women, gay men and women, older people, younger people, from every race you can imagine, being completely united and supportive of each other.

This week we were just all Riders and Roadies. 

A former rider told me - before the ride -  that he enjoyed riding so much in the past, because the community of people riding became "like a glimpse of what a perfect world would be like."  I totally understand what he means now.

LifeCycle has been an extroadinary experience, physically and emotionally challenging, I have never laughed or cried harder in recent memory.  It was a little jarring at times, but in the end, I couldn't be happier about my decision to ride. 

And I will keep riding until we don't have to anymore.

I went in to this whole experience with no expectations of what was going to happen, and I would put that as advice for anyone who wants to register next year.  I just let it happen.

This was my first experience on AIDS/LifeCycle, next year, you can have yours. 

See you next June.

Love to all and goodnight from Los Angeles, CA.

Gary Cotti
2007 Registered LifeCycle Rider.