Riding for a Cause

"The most moral act is one which is actuated by disinterested motives...from the viewpoint of the author of an action, unselfishness must remain the criterion of the highest morality."
Reinhold Neibuhr

“If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them.  When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope?  We have two options, medically and emotionally:  give up, or fight like hell.”
Lance Armstrong

"Cancer changes your life, often for the better. You learn what's important, you learn to prioritize, and you learn not to waste your time. You tell people you love them. My friend Gilda Radner (who died of ovarian cancer in 1989 at age 42) used to say, 'If it wasn't for the downside, having cancer would be the best thing and everyone would want it.' That's true. If it wasn't for the downside."

Joel Siegel

I took a 40 mile bike ride with my nephew Carl this past weekend.  Cycling isn’t my number one sport of choice (more on that later) but it’s what I’m left with at the present time since a rehabbing ankle is keeping me from running.  I bought my bike in the fall of 1998 after a doctor diagnosed a knee problem as being chronic, telling me that I should consider my running days done.  Those were during my “I believe anything a doctor will tell me, because if they really didn't know the answer to my problem they would own up and tell me and would never keep me in the dark because they don't want to be perceived as dumb” days.  So I believed him.  The sidebar is that some months later I was up and running again and would be until a year ago when my ankle was broken. 

Following the doctor’s orders to do something other than running I dropped a pretty penny, actually a whole lotta pretty pennies, on a new bike; a champagne colored, Torelli Super Strada.  When I finally got the bike home after it was built and fitted for me I found that it terrified me.  I’d just then noticed how narrow those tires seemed and I wondered, how in hell I was supposed to balance on those things.  The more I looked at them the thinner those tires became until they were just pencil thin.  My anxiety level and heart rate elevated just looking at them and I wondered why I hadn’t opted for something a little wider; like drag slicks.  And then there was the business of those cleats.  While I was being fitted for the bike on a trainer, clipping in and out of the pedals was a breeze.  Now I would have to do it while moving and the thought made those tires seem even thinner than they already were. 

The bike sat for months (by then I was running again) until I finally found the pluck to take it out for a ride.  Over the years I’ve been an occasional rider except those times when my bike becomes a vehicle of good work.  In 2000, two years after my daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes I did my first charity ride; this one to benefit The American Diabetes Association.  The ride was 65 miles starting in Palo Alto CA.  It was the first of 4 rides for the ADA, one in the Napa wine country one in Sacramento and another in Roseville CA.  That last ride was in the foothills of the Sierra in a wind driven rain.  In 2009, in honor of my wife and her two bouts with breast cancer and the family, friends and acquaintances who’ve survived or succumbed to cancer I rode in San Jose’s Livestrong ride.

Dedication wall at San Jose Livestrong

These rides aren’t easy things for me and I’m not talking about the distance factor.  While most cyclists just pull their bikes down from the rack and go, I have to take a few deep breaths and consider whether I want to do this or not.  Hills?  Oh God, how I hate them.  Not the ascent but the descent.  I’ve no problem going uphill but unfortunately what goes up must come down.  While most riders think that going downhill is a blast and squeal “wheeeeeee, whee, whee, wheeeeeee, like that pig in the insurance commercial I make a sign of the cross, tighten the sphincter, squeeze the brakes and moan, shiiiiiiit, shit, shit, shiiiiit.  I train for ascents and enjoy them as a challenge.  I’ll cruise past riders on a particularly nasty uphill and become the target of anger and derision; “Show off.”  And then on the descent those same riders will pelt me with catcalls, screaming past me as I ease myself down the hill; “Climber’s karma, sucker.” And those cleats?  They still give me some occasional problems.  At least once a year I’m good for failing to get unhinged from a pedal at a stop sign.  It’s really great entertainment for onlookers watching me tip over onto one side (For those old enough to remember think Artie Johnson on the tricycle on the TV show Laugh-In).   

A few months ago my wife became a cancer survivor; for the third time.  And so from somewhere inside a call came again telling me that it’s time to pull the bike down from the hook in the garage and take a ride.  It’s Livestrong again this year, this time in Davis Ca.  This year it will be 100 miles.  There is the 20 mile option but there has to be the challenge, there has to be some doubt that I can finish, there has to be some apprehension going in, some pain and fatigue.  Part of it is that I’m going to ask people to donate money and if folks are going to be generous enough to open their checkbooks I need to give them their money’s worth.  Part of it is ego.  I've never done a century and this is my chance to do it.  And in doing this I’m blatantly contradicting the epigraph at the beginning of this post, a quote that’s one of my favorites; “The most moral act is one which is actuated by disinterested motives…”  And a big part of it is the notion that doing 20 miles isn’t enough.  The ease of 20 miles is an afterthought that doesn’t do justice to those who I’m riding for, the survivors and victims I’ve known and those I haven’t.  And that’s as if riding a bike for even a thousand miles is doing enough justice.  But in the end we do what we can.  We take the opportunity to put a talent to good use.  And even though I’ve spent a good portion of this post describing how poor my cycling talents are I suppose that I’ve been blessed with endurance or at least the tenacity to train for endurance events.  This is what I have to offer.  I’ve spent the last couple of months doing workouts on a stationary bike and building leg endurance on the weight machines.  With improved weather I’ve been able to get out on the infernal machine. 

There’s an enormous satisfaction that goes with these events (there goes that morality of my act again).  I’ve kept my bib numbers from the past five rides.  There have been some good memories but the most touching and powerful came from the San Jose Livestrong ride.  We’re riding through some of the suburbs and I’m seeing someone standing in a yard holding a sign saying “Thank you.”  And as we continue to ride I’m seeing more people in yards and on the sidewalks and their holding "thank you" signs and hollering "thank you."  And from motorists I'm not getting the middle finger but thumbs up and shouts of encouragement.  And some of those cheering folks are wearing caps that signify them as survivors.  And I’m thinking,  I’m just riding my bike and people are thanking me for doing something so simple as riding a bike  And then I realize that it’s a little hard to see the road when there’s a tear in your eye. 

 

Money has never been a motivation for this blog.  There are no ads and I’ve done this only for the enjoyment (and it keeps me out of the bars).  This is the exception.  If you think that Livestrong’s programs are worthwhile and wish to support my fundraising please follow this link

http://laf.livestrong.org/site/TR/Challenge/Challenge?px=1041254&pg=personal&fr_id=1181