At some point in your life you stop and ask yourself “what it’s all about?” As I turned 50, I began to wonder if I could still push myself physically the way I had in my younger years. I had always been interested in the Pan Mass Challenge, a 192 mile, 2 day ride that benefited the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. As I pondered this challenge, I realized I hadn’t ridden a bike since I was a kid, and didn’t even own a bike or the accompanying equipment. Thus, my saga began.
Once I began training, I realized I had underestimated many things about this ride, mainly that it was not as simple as jumping on my bike and riding away. My first few rides, I was cold, lonely, tight and challenged on the hills. Early in, I was fortunate to be introduced to a group of riders to whom I was able to latch on to. They taught me how to clip in my bike shoes, how to establish my riding cadence, how to approach the hills, how to draft other riders and how to pace myself.
What made things tough was the weather in June and July. I rode in the rain as much as I did in the sun. My first official ride was a 75 mile ALS fundraiser that began in the rain and ended in the rain. The best thing about that ride was that it convinced me that if I could handle 75 miles, I could do 111 the first day and 80 the second. But that still did not negate the fact that I had much more training to do!
My poor wife D’Arcy had to listen to me moan about finding time to train, getting up most weekends at 5:00 AM so I could get in a 40-60 mile ride and still have the day left to do my errands. There were so many days that I questioned, “Why am I doing this?”
And then there was the fundraising. When you sign up for a PMC, you hand over your credit card and agree to raise the $4200 or pay the balance yourself. The PMC is the largest athletic fundraiser in the country. Last year it raised $35 Million. Prior to this year, the 30th PMC, it had raised $239 Million for the Jimmy Fund with one hundred percent of the donations going to charity. Fortunately, through the generosity of many friends, family members and associates, I raised close to $6,000 for this worthy cause.
As race day approached, I had many sleepless nights. Mostly, I questioned my ability to complete my commitment and not disappoint myself and my supporters. Why did I do this to myself? But the weekend finally arrived and I was so anxious to end my anguished anticipation. Since the race began in Sturbridge, I booked a hotel in Auburn, MA so that I could register on Friday night and be at the starting line at 5:00 AM for the 5:30 AM start.
What a scene! Thousands of riders lined up in anticipation of the start. Hundreds of people lining the start route to cheer us on. Both days were like nothing I had ever experienced. Besides the 50 miles of hills and the challenge to push my body to surpass the largest number of consecutive miles I had ever ridden, it was the scenes that I witnessed along the route that I will always remember. The route was lined with family and friends holding pictures of loved ones taken by this horrendous disease. The hardest to view were the parents holding pictures of their deceased young children. I still am not sure if I was wiping away tears of sorrow or tears of pain from the pursuit to finish. Around mile 70 I found motivation when a woman ran out into the road ringing a bell and yelling “I am a cancer survivor, thank you for doing this!”
As I considered these people who had suffered so much, I thought, “So what if training was a little inconvenient? Was it really that big a deal that fund raising took some effort? So what if the riding has been painful? Did any of this compare to the pain of cancer and its often deadly effect?” Riding those first 70 miles, I was mostly in my head. I thought about why I was riding, whether my priorities were straight, and how much I loved and appreciated my family and the life I had been given. I thought about how small I felt as I was enveloped by a much bigger cause than myself.
I remembered this on day two when I couldn’t sleep and then could barely maneuver my ultra sore body out of bed. It was my wife who reminded me that to not try to finish would be a regret I would carry forever. So once again at 5:00 AM I joined my friends from Team Perry and road off over the Bourne Bridge. The second day route was less strenuous, and it was only the last 10 miles in the dunes of Provincetown that we hit some challenging hills. What a thrill to finish! Crowds of people cheering, knowing that I will soon see my family! Of course nothing would top my family cheering me on at mile 109 of the first day. I was so happy to see them!
Before race day, I was convinced I would take my bike and drive over it with a Humboldt truck but when I finished I thought, how can I not do this again? Look how much it means to people. Now I am not sure which took more courage, deciding to commit to the ride, or telling D’Arcy that I might want to do it all over again next year… ???