Wheelsucker Presents: CancerBroadcast.com (Soft Launch)

Loyal readers:
It’s all your fault. Just so you know…

Cancer is extraordinary. It changes lives in a moment. It’s voracious. It consumes.

Yet, cancer gives gifts. It inspires. It can bring out the best in us. It offers us opportunities for insight, growth, change.

I’m not Pollyanna—cancer kills. It destroys.

But, between here and there is an infinite space. How we fill that space is up to us—it’s the challenge cancer presents us.

In truth, the challenge was always there. Cancer made me see it.

Searching

This blog has been my therapy. It has enabled me to free myself from myself, while going deep within me. It enabled me to share my stories with you, and in the sharing, it saved me. Where I once was isolated, I connected. When I most needed support, I received it. I gave the only thing I had—me. And what I received in return…has changed my life.

All from the power of stories.

Stories are webs, interconnected strand to strand, and you follow each story to the center, because the center is the end. Each person is a strand of the story.
—Neil Gaiman

Even within the fever dreams of chemotherapy, I wanted to do something more. I wanted to expand the blog experience into something…greater. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew that I would know it when I found it.

Months passed. I recovered. Mindfully, I made myself open, receptive.

One of the things I am good at is connections. A thought here, something from there, a sliver of that from yesterplace, and a scosche from neverwhere become...something whole and meaningful. I read and watched and listened and thought and saw and heard and an idea formed. Then it grew.

I bounced it off him and her and listened to their feedback. I reflected, and the many voices within me argued. Powerful parts cajoled others into action. Doubtful parts were dragged along, despite their sea-anchor affect.

In my last blog post I wrote about how:

I took strides forward, only to be knocked back. Sometimes I got knocked back and sideways. Other times I was spun around; dizzy and confused I fell on my arse. Usually spectacularly.

There was a lot of arse on the ground. (Yes, I have a large arse!)

But, I got up.

I was inspired by others—people who built things. I’ve always let my fear and doubt rule. They didn’t. They Got Shit Done. They Made Things Happen. And I deeply admire them for it!

So, why not me?

Nerd

One of the things I listened to was the Nerdist podcast. Across the episodes an ongoing theme is “just build your thing”. It’s post-Nike. Instead of just doing it, it’s about building it. Make something real. Make something that reflects you and your ideas.

And I have an idea.

And through all the self-doubt and self-stop, the obstacle-creation and the bury-yourself-under-the-pillow paralytic fear, my idea shone through.

I’m quoting him again (slightly out of context), but Gaiman is irrepressibly quotable:

Ideas will, eventually, win. Because the ideas are invisible, and they linger, and, sometimes, they are even true.

And my idea is this…

Here We Go!

It’s all your fault because you encouraged me.

As I shared more, you responded. And one of the humbling things I kept hearing was that you enjoy my writing—my way of expressing things. I don’t take compliments well, so it took me some time to acknowledge and grow comfortable with it.

But that was nothing compared to private comments from those who shared that I helped them, or their friend, or their sister/brother/son/daughter. Quietly, one of my goals was being achieved—someone out there got something meaningful from my blog.

Wow.

Like Michelangelo’s block of marble (I am, on occasion, dumb as a rock.), there was something within me that always existed and needed to emerge. I’ve never been able to tell a joke. I’m useless at it. But stories?

I’m a storyteller. It’s that simple.

I love storytelling. If you strip all the bits away, what you'll find at the center is a storyteller. As I warm to my career and love it more, I have a sense that storytelling is healing, in many ways. You can reach an audience and heal, and by heal, I mean entertain and provoke. It's a wonderful life.
—Sir Ben Kingsley

I have an idea. I have an identity. Let’s build my thing...

The Cancer Broadcast

CancerBroadcast.com is a platform for the cancer community—patients, survivors, caregivers, supporters—to tell their stories.

Stories have the power to change lives, and The Cancer Broadcast is focused on the stories that move others who are touched by cancer. It will be positive—focusing on inspiration and growth...on coping, healing, and thriving. We’ll laugh, even as we cry. And as a community we’ll nuture the strength we need to grow through the cancer experience.

The Cancer Broadcast will be built around a podcast, hosted my me. Blogging will be a part of it as it grows. As it finds its audience, it will become what it needs to become—it will grow organically.

It’s just getting started. The first podcast episodes are being refined, awaiting release.

For now, I’m reaching out to the cancer community. I'll be riding in Pelotonia again this year with renewed purpose. I have nothing to prove on a bicycle. I have a thing to build. I'm going to use my 14 hours of saddle time to meet and talk and listen and receive.

Most importantly, I'm going to connect with my cancer community. I'm going to gather information that will help me refine and build.

Together, we'll build something wonderful.

It's going to be awesome!

What will be will be what will be.

I’ve got this.

Pelotonia 2014...I'm In

I made the decision. I'm in. I had reason to doubt. I cannot justify NOT doing it.

I will ride 180 miles for cancer research.

Please. Donate. Now. 

• Each dollar raised goes directly to research—there is no overhead
• Each dollar will be matched, generously by Limited Brands

I will ride with the cancer community. Mindfully. Purposefully. With attitude.

This post is a shot across the bows. Broadsides to come.

- - -

Here's my rider profile:

That was then...

I'm a cancer survivor.

I ride with the scars from previous cancer battles.

I'm a five-time Pelotonia veteran.

I rode 180 miles last year.

Three weeks later I was diagnosed with a late-relapse tumor.

I'm recovering from a long winter's battle; yet the seeds of new cancers are inside me.

- - -

Then, that was then...

Cancer came back.

It does that.

It's insidious.

- - -

Yet...

Cancer breeds hope, just as it nurtures death.

Cancer inspires; the good become great.

Cancer brings light, and love, and beauty, though it is a challenge to see it.

- - -

I live it.

This is now. Let's do this.
"If not us, who? If not now, when?"

I've lived it.

- - -

I've been weighed and measured; I've been found wanting.

I'm making up for lost time.

Let's do this...together.

Why We Ride Pelotonia

When this post appear on the glorious Internet, I will be on the road.

Somewhere in Ohio, I will be with more than 6,000 others.

We're riding to end cancer.

Together, we're taking a stand.

It's all about the money. Every rider is a dollar sign. Every volunteer is an enabler. we're all working to raise the precious funds to defeat the diseases that have defeated so many.

I ride for several reasons:

• Appreciation
• Honor
• Fear
• Anger
• Respect
• Hope

I don't know why the other 6,000 riders ride. I suspect for some of the same reasons. And I know that they ride for reasons too deeply personal to share.

Yet, whatever our motivations, we ride...together.

And it's a beautiful thing.


I hope you will help me to raise money for life-saving cancer research.

We need your support to end cancer. Please consider donating.

Hope: Why I Ride Pelotonia

Please help me raise $2,200
to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands! I will be wearing their colors proudly!

I ride with hope. Hope that we can end cancer.

I'm blessed.

Seven years.

I just celebrated my 7th year cancer free.

I want the same for others.

And I ride with hope.

I hope for treatments, therapies, cures.

I hope for patents, families, friends.

For researchers, doctors, caregivers.

I hope.

I'm not a "glass is half full" guy. But when cancer rates are going down, I'm encouraged.

And when I hear about breakthroughs, it's rewarding...and hopeful.


So, I hope

I hope for Jessica.

I hope for John Looker.

I hope for all the people behind the faces who inspire.

I ride in that hope that my children will live in a cancer-free world.

Hope is simple, it needs little explanation.

I ride because I hope.

The glass is half-full.


I hope you will help me to raise money for life-saving cancer research.

We need your support to end cancer. Please consider donating.

Respect: Why I Ride Pelotonia

Please help me raise $2,200
to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands! I will be wearing their colors proudly!

I ride to respect those who fight.

I'm out. I'm free. The specter is behind me, consigned to history.

I'm lucky! I'm blessed.

Others aren't. I ride to respect them—their battles and their struggles. I ride because I can, and because they inspire me to be more than a survivor. They inspire me to thrive.

Jessica Vs. Cancer

I'm out for a spring ride. It's a cold day; I'm dodging rain. I see a woman ahead of me—definitely not your typical cyclist. She's laboring on the flat, and she's approaching a hill.

I pull up and we chat. And everything changed.

Some people radiate warmth. She's that people. Joyfully, she rode. Smiling, she spoke. When I left her, I no longer felt the wind. The rain? What rain?

Weeks later I saw her again. Riding. Laboring. Smiling. And everyone around her was smiling, too.

Soon I knew her story. Jessica P. lost her liver to an incredibly rare form of cancer: primary hepatic neuroendocrine carcinoma. She received a liver transplant. While it saved her life, it did not stop her fight. She lives daily with the chronic nature of the disease.

And she smiles.

And she radiates warmth.

Part of her healing is hugging. Big hugs. Enthusiastic hugs. Not back-breaking hugs, but hugs that connect.

You know the type. Not many people give them. To give one is to share one's self—to extend, to express a kind of love and need and vulnerability that is as poignant as it is gentle. It's wordless, language-free. It's a gift.

And it's a hard gift to receive. It makes you vulnerable. To receive that gift in the spirit with which it was given means you accept the moment...that precious moment when two people connect, sharing time, space, and spirit.

It's beautiful.

Jessica hugs. She hugs a lot. And she inspires me.

Recently, I saw photos of her in a hospital gown. She was getting tests. She battles on, yet she smiles.

I ride to respect those who fight.

I ride for Jessica and her fight.

I ride because you don't have to save a life to change a life.

Facing Chemo

Robert Houser Photography

I'm facebooking (Yep, it's a verb...). An image appears and stops me dead.

The eyes. Haunting and strong. Vulnerable and loving. Placid.

She's looking at me with wisdom—with secret knowledge. She's peering through me. She has taken my measure, and she has found me...

Facing Chemo is a photographic project that exposes the emotion of those undergoing chemotherapy. While the drugs target cells, the treatments effect people—the persons within and without.

Unadorned, exposed, vulnerable, the subjects share their beauty, strength, fear, resolve.

As it happens, I know the photographer. We went to school together many years ago. He's a good person. I had no idea he became an artist. I'm awestruck.

Robert Houser Photography

Months later, I'm facebooking. An image appears and stops me dead.

These eyes are knowing—direct. Maskless, guileless.

Accepting, content.

Her name is Kim.

She's beautiful.

She lost her battle.






 
I ride to respect those who fight.

I ride to respect those who fight, knowing they may lose.

Respect...


I hope you will help me to raise money for life-saving cancer research.

We need your support to end cancer. Please consider donating.

Anger: Why I Ride Pelotonia

Please help me raise $2,200
to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands! I will be wearing their colors proudly!

I ride because I'm angry.

Howlingly angry.

Cancer pisses me off.

It's allowed. I don't feel guilty. Neither should you. In fact, I encourage it.

Go ahead, be angry.

You have cancer. Your mother has cancer...your father...

Your partner has cancer...your lover...

Your child...

Being angry beats the hell out of feeling hopeless.

Your chemo hurts in ways you never imagined. You're sick of being sick. You're beyond tired, as your body and soul are pushed to the limit...and beyond...and still beyond.

You fear the mirror. You know that what you will see will not be you. That ravaged creature is not you, but you make eye contact and you see...you. And your sunken stomach sinks again and you feel tears and your chest tightens and you gasp and you know it's you but it's not you and you're lost because who is you and where did you go and Gods what has...and why has...and inside you boil and quake and it wells up from places you never knew and never felt before and it's there and it's scary and it's from you and about you and...

You're angry.

Howlingly angry.

It's allowed.

You don't have cancer, yet you visit the hospital, and the treatment center, and the hospice. You're there every step of the way, supporting, loving, helping.

You watch. You listen. Your palms sweat, your bowels churn as you wait for results. You don't have the cancer, but you're savaged by it.

Your mother, your father has cancer. Your partner, your lover has cancer. Your child...

It ravages them; it destroys you.

What can I do? How can I help? Drive, hold hands, cook, dress, hug, cajole, weep, watch, listen, pray, hope, encourage...a million little things that matter. Yet, you sleeplessly wonder what more you can do.

You're angry.

And you're guilty about it.

But you don't need to be. It's allowed.

I ride because I'm angry.

Cancer hurt me. It stole parts of me. My scars run deep. The skin scars, like the one that runs from sternum to pubic bone, are obvious. I can't show you the soul scars...

Cancer surrounds me—my friends and family. Yet, it always feels like there is so little I can do.

And it makes me angry.

But cancer has taught me a few things...about anger.

Impotent anger is destructive. You bleed pain. You melt with fury. And you remain silent. You're fighting an enemy you cannot know. It's right in front of you, but it is invisible, alien. And you try to understand it, but you can't, and that fact makes you even more angry. And you silently seethe. The feelings surge and recede, wave after wave of pain you wrestle to control, lest it control you. You fear the anger, because it's too big, too strong, and you have no way to express it without hurting someone, everyone, yourself. You know that anger destroys.

So you have a drink, take a pill, eat a doughnut, or close yourself in and wait for the tide to ebb and hope it all goes away.

And for a time it does; and you're able to do what you need to do.

And then it comes back...fiercer. And the cycle begins again. And you go deeper, and the gyre sucks you down.

But you're not impotent. You have choices.

Each time you help, you reach out, you touch, and you comfort you are doing something. Each time you hope, you heal. Every time you do what you need to do to be healthy, you overcome.


You're never powerless, no matter how overwhelming it seems. Anger and Fear are so close; and they can be used for good.

Anger is an energy. use it. Channel it to fight the unknowable enemy. Embrace it and transform it and use it.

And heal it. 

Be angry.

It's allowed.

I ride because I'm angry. And I choose to do something with that anger. I choose to use it to help heal; and to fight to end cancer.

I hope you will help me to raise money for life-saving cancer research.

We need your support to end cancer. Please consider donating.

Fear: Why I Ride Pelotonia

Please help me raise $2,200
to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands! I will be wearing their colors proudly!

I ride because I'm scared.

Really scared.

I'm fearful, anxious. Not panicky or terrified. I'm scared.

Cancer is scary.

Most of us feel it. Few of us admit it—even to ourselves. Fewer still will share it.

Admitting it makes us aware—and vulnerable.

Sharing it make it real—and dangerous.

Cancer: it's that-which-shall-not-be-named. It's Voldemort.

Yet, it's always there.

And it's scary.

My mother has a type of non-Hodgkin lymphoma. After some unpleasant treatments, they told her that it was not a question of whether it would re-emerge, but when.

She lives with that knowledge every day.

And it scares me. I know trepidation.

And while I know that others bear the same burden, it fails to comfort me.

My mother is going to die, and cancer is (likely) going to take her from me.

It's why I ride.

My Little Angels are 11 and 7 this year. They blossom. And they have a solid family history of cancer.

That's scary.

The odds are that they will get some form of cancer. I live with that knowledge every day.

I usually don't think about it. Unless I do. And when I do, I'm scared.

I know about the children who fight cancer. The images are burned into my mind's eye. The tubes and wires and baldness and pallor and scrawniness and the smallness—god, they're small! They're young! It shouldn't happen to them!

Yet it does.

And I know about young adults who fight cancer—how their lives are completely re-defined by the experience. How the best years of their lives are smothered. It shouldn't happen to them!

Yet it does.

And we feel powerless.

It's why I ride.

Something happened to me a few years ago. I intuited something long before I understood it. I'm not powerless. I'm not a bystander. I'm not passive.

When I ride against cancer I'm empowered, involved, and active.

I ride because I'm scared; because I choose to do something with that fear.

I hope you will help me to raise money for life-saving cancer research.

We need your support to end cancer. Please consider donating.

Honor: Why I Ride Pelotonia

Please help me raise $2,200
to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands! I will be wearing their colors proudly!

I ride to honor those who have supported me on my cancer odyssey.

Support comes in many forms, from many places.

Money is good. Money is nice. As I have written before, money is necessary. That's not cynicism. Money is real, and I appeal to you to donate.

But support comes in many forms, from many places.

Friends you just met open their homes, fill you with welcome, and embrace you with love.

They support you.

Starched-white uniformed nurses who make you walk, dress your wounds, and give no quarter while helping you heal.

Loved ones who fear for you, nurse you, comfort you, challenge you.

Employers who reduce the pressure and reserve your place.

They support you.

Neighbors who feed your family and mow your lawn.

Friends who make the journey to be there. Just to be there.

Children who inspire you... by just being.

Long-lost friends who give. Then give more.

Doctors who advise with wisdom and share their talent.

They support you.

Patients who fight.
Families who suffer.
Those who endure.

Survivors.
Victims.

They support you.

I ride to honor those who have supported me on my cancer odyssey.

For what they did.
For what they did not do.

I honor them.

We need your support to end cancer. Please consider donating.

Appreciation: Why I Ride Pelotonia

Please help me raise $2,200
to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands! I will be wearing their colors proudly!

I ride because I'm here.

I appreciate that.

I ride because others aren't here.

That makes me appreciate being here even more.

I'm a survivor.

I take survivorship seriously.

I've written about it before, writing about "Stage T". I defined it thusly:

Stage T cancer is when you are living with purpose—mindfully, consciously. It is when you are making real the promise of your renewed life.

I've had a brutal year. BCB is no longer in my life. I'm on another odyssey as I write this. It's...challenging. My heart has been broken; but my spirit is intact.

I have my Little Angels.

And I appreciate every day I have with them.

And every hour.

And each minute.

Honestly, no one lives that way. I'm not that mindful. But I am conscious.

I watch them grow. I see the light in their eyes. I hear them laugh, and cry, and argue, and sing. I catch the scent of their hair. I touch their cheeks. I kiss them goodnight.

And I appreciate that I can.

I look in the mirror. I see the scars. I glimpse the grey. The crow's feet deepen around my eyes. I see it.

And I appreciate that I can.

I sometimes don't want to ride my bike. I'm tired. Power is weak. Recovery is harder. My knees ache. My shoulder throbs. Yet, I do ride.

And I appreciate that I can.

It's August; it's Pelotonia. It's time to raise money.

And I appreciate that I can.

I ride because I'm here.

I appreciate that.

And I hope you will help me to raise money for life-saving cancer research.

A Fundraising Idea...

It's simple.

It costs little-to-nothing to host (as long as you already have the right pieces).

So, here's the idea...

Viewing Parties + Indoor Training

I like to watch...

You know someone with a spacious family room or garage. Or, you know a bike shop with TVs. Or a coffee shop. The "where" doesn't really matter.

Host viewing parties for Flanders (April 1) and Roubaix (April 8).

All you need is a place to set up trainers, a large tv, and loud sound. (You need to compensate for the spinning, grunting, and trash talking).

Charge a small fee to participate ($15-$20). Proceeds to your favorite charity.

Don't need much more than a place to gather, watch, and sweat.

Just think of the possibilities!

• You could bake and sell cobble cakes.
  
• You could sell themed coffee.
  
• You could treat the training like a drinking game. (You know, every time Phil, Bob, or Paul mention "Lance Armstrong", you sprint. Or, every time they ignore the race in favor of some preconceived, pre-packaged exposition about someone's great aunt tilly, you sprint. Really, the workout script writes itself.)

An alternative is to simply have a BYOBreakfast viewing party, but that's so...NFL!

It's easy, it's fun, and it's for a good cause.

Share and enjoy!

Nearly Naked Men Are Absolutely Fabulous!

Sometimes someone comes up with an idea that is so brilliant that the only appropriate reaction is to doff one's cap and salute it.

THIS is such an idea.

I spotted Mr. Testicle in Taylor Rojek's posting for Bicycling.com's "The Hub."

Here's malecancer.org's self-description:

We are a young and innovative charity committed to raising awareness of Male Cancers through our champions - Mr. Testicles, James Bum 002 and Near Naked Man. We aim to educate men and their partners the importance of early detection and we hope to build a culture where embarrassment does not prevent them from addressing problems with intimate parts of their bodies.

I laughed. I cried. I realized this is absolute genius.

Damn those Brits. They think they're so bloody clever.

I want one of those kits, so I can wear it during my training and teaching.

I want to ride as a proud survivor, nearly naked and completely committed.

I'm reaching out to them, hoping to get a nearly naked suit, so that I don't get arrested for nearly naked riding.

On Language

Words matter.

They're thoughts made real.

They're bricks. With them we build structures to collect knowledge and wisdom—poetry, prose.

They're bridges. They connect us to ideas and things...and one another.

They're weapons. With them we attack and wound—far more deeply than with blades. Flesh heals. But what of the soul?

They're medicine. "I'm sorry." And "I love you." Words can heal tongue-lashed wounds.

Consider the power of words. From everyday life:
"To" versus "with"
"I want to talk to you about this."
"I want to talk with you about this."
One is imposing. The other is inviting. It's subtle.

"I", "you" and "we"
"I need you to stop it!"
"We need to stop."
One assigns blame outward. The other is inclusive, taking responsibility while calling for action. It's powerful.

Myriad examples abound. We hear or read them every day—and we're completely unconscious of it. We're affected by the subtle power of words. And the slightest shift can re-define a thought and re-set a mind.

Consider...

"Join me in the fight against cancer."

And...

"Join me in the fight to end cancer."

See it? It's subtle. It's powerful.

In the first I'm asking you to join me in a battle, yet there is no clear goal. And to me, fighting cancer is a private thing.

I fought cancer when I had it. Folks in chemo, taking radiation treatments, and recovering from surgeries are fighting cancer.

I raise money to end cancer. To eliminate it from our reality.

End. Eliminate. Not fight.

End cancer.

Got a Call from My Doctor

"Mr. Wheelsucker, this is Dr. ___'s office. Dr.___ needs to talk with you about your blood test from last Friday."

Ice water rushed down my back.

Bone-chills. Sweaty palms. Heart races.

Spooked, I twitched a glance over my shoulder. Just the dog...unsettled. Does he know something?

The kids burst into the room, joyfully embracing after school freedom on a cool, autumn evening. The circled the kitchen, foraging, and flashed out into the yard like two roman candle bursts—all light and color and energy and...life.

Their shooting-star brilliance filled my world for a moment, burning away my chilled fear—but only for a moment. In their wake I remained—unsteady, shaken, but upright and mindful.

Fear Is the Mind-Killer...

I've been through this before.

I have the confidence of hard-won experience. I've learned. I've grown. It's just a message...it could be anything.

I mused.

I'm blessed with the love of a wonderful woman, whom I hardly deserve. I'm humbled and honored to be the father of two girls who amaze me every day. I'm connected and supported by loving, caring, devoted friends and family.

I'm blessed.

I'm grateful.

It matters.

Reveille

"Good morning, I'm Wheelsucker. I received a message that Dr. ___ needed to talk with me about some test results."

Some test results. So insouciant. What a poseur. I guess if it helps me manage my anxiety...

"Just a moment Mr. Wheelsucker. I'll see if the doctor is available."

Muzak. "Just the Way You Are." Thanks Billy. Not right now. How about some Smiths, please, so I can feel sorry for myself. No, this is more a Nine Inch Nails kind of morning...

"Mr. Wheelsucker?"

"Yes." I knew her voice.

"This is Dr. ___." I know! Get on with it! "I wanted to touch base with you about your blood test results."

Good sweet mother of all that is holy and not-so holy. Tell me! Tellme! TellmeTellmeTellme!

"I understand. I'm all ears." How composed. I impressed myself.

"Well, I want to congratulate you..."

Warmth flowed through me. Somewhere inside the Ode to Joy echoed...just outside my hearing.

"...your numbers are completely normal..."

I hugged myself, eyes welling...

"...across the board. You've done very well. You are in remarkable health for your age. Congratulations!"

I know I thanked her for telling me directly. I expressed real, deep appreciation for the caring and the support. I have no idea if it came out in anything like English. I babbled...

"We just need to send the results..."

And so it went. Details. No problem.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

We'd celebrated prematurely. It haunted me.

We were beholden to a date, but I hadn't taken my test. I'd done my homework—I was fit and living a healthy lifestyle. But we held the graduation party before I took my final.

Why?

Partly logistics—making the time took time that I didn't want to spend.

Partly laziness—everything felt fine! Everything's okay!

Mostly, it was fear.

Yep. I was scared.

"What if..." reigned.

What if the cancer returned? What if I need chemo? What if it's a new cancer? What if...

What If...

How many of us are ruled by What If...?

How much of your life is dominated by fear?

How often are we held back from what we should be...could be...by What If...?

It's a trap. Fear is the mind-killer... It's an elegant, infernal, impersonal, intimate trap.

We're not held back by What If...

We're held back by ourselves.

The challenge is to master it. The task is to overcome doubts and fears and move into a new space.

And it's hard. It's damned hard.

But it's possible.

And it's necessary. If we are to become; if we are to thrive.

Sometimes It's Hard Not to Think

After sitting on my test paperwork for a month, one morning I simply stopped thinking and did it. It was that simple. Okay, so I exaggerate. I needed to fast, so it was per-meditated. But you get the idea.

It's like the day I decided to take my 215-pound fatty, slovenly, grey-skinned carcass to the gym for the first time. I simply did it. I stopped thinking and I did it.

So, yes. It's hard to not think. But sometimes we simply have to get out of and beyond ourselves to stop being a barrier to our selves.

"Sometimes I suspect that we build our traps ourselves, then we back into them, pretending amazement the while."

All limitations are self-imposed.

When we get out of our own way, what might we accomplish? What might we learn? Where might we go? How high might we fly?

Let's find out, shall we?

Why We Rode

I'm back in Maryland. The road trip is complete!

Pelotonia 2011—the event—is in the books!

What remains? Exhaustion, post-Pelotonia blues, re-entry into the daily routine...and 60 more days of fundraising!

I'm working on my post-event musings and ride reports (for the two of you who might read them...). In the meantime, I thought I would share a video. Entitled "I Will", it's a wry St. Crispin's Day speech—a call to arms that balances poignancy and humor nicely.

And it's some pretty damned good film-making.

Once more into the breach, my friends...



Share and enjoy!

Tomorrow we ride.

I was preparing an entry today...but then I re-read some of my posts from last year.

Mistake.

They were good.

And the message is the same.

So I visited my muse, and I pondered, and I had a moment of clarity: I can't improve on last year.

So, here is today's post, on Pelotonia eve. It's the same post as last year's (from Pelotonia eve).

Share and enjoy...

++++++

Bike to Battle, Missouri

The diseases we call cancer are legion. Mobilizing a counterforce to do battle is our challenge. The enemy must be engaged on all fronts: financial, scientific, spiritual.... Such an undertaking requires endless resources and boundless passion.

Are we up to the challenge? Are we prepared to wage total war against this inexhaustible enemy?

Safe & Sound, UAE

The human spirit is able. But have we the will to harness our resources and march forth? Have we the strength to carry ourselves once more into the breach, dear friends? Once more?

Pelotonia is an answer. All who ride have declared themselves. All who support have pledged themselves. All involved have mobilized. We are a force, countering cancer's corruption.

Love Life. Fight Cancer, Netherlands

You play a part. Your neighbors play a part. We are all part of a global struggle. We all fight this battle.

We are the dreamers of dreams...we are the movers and shakers, of the world forever...

We are audacious. We are bold. We draw strength from one other. We are united in our cause: end cancer.

Ride. Roll forth. Show the world that we are making our stand. Here. Now.

Be bold. Be defiant.

Sound your barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world and declare "no more!"

You are among many.

Together, we ride.

Together, we...

Thrive.

For the Ladies

Last week I published a shameless, patronizing post.

I'm ashamed.

But it was for a good cause...

...and allure attracts. Sex sells.

And the good folks at Victoria's Secret know it:

Women make up the majority of the company’s executives—they represent two-thirds of those tuning in to their fashion shows, and they account for a whopping 98% of the company’s customer base. This is their audience, plain and simple. It’s no coincidence that two of the most high-profile Angels in its short history are women other women don’t, as a rule, dislike: Tyra Banks and Heidi Klum. Both are charming and down-to-earth models who aren’t bitchy about their beauty...

...men aren’t entirely disregarded, but according to Ed Razek, Victoria’s Secret doesn’t “do salacious shots that women would not like.”

As I've written before, Ed's a genius.

So, based on this logic, my post...while intended for the guys...was really for the ladies!

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it...

All kidding aside, let's talk about the ladies...

One in Three

Yep. It's better than us guys (1 in 2), but still. That's quite a number.

One of every three women will be affected by cancer.

And the incidence trends are worth noting:

Cancers on the increase in women include leukemia, lung cancer, melanoma, non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, and thyroid cancer, which began to increase sharply during the early 1980s. The increase in thyroid cancer in women is "particularly notable"....

Ovarian cancer began to decline in 1985 and has continued to decline to 2003, and the incidence of breast cancer has shown a "recent stabilization and possible decline"....

"Save the Boobies" indeed...

[A] detailed examination of breast cancer incidence shows stable rates in the most recent time period (2001-2003), preceded by a deceleration in the rate of increase since about 1987.

Even so:

Worldwide, breast cancer comprises 22.9% of all cancers (excluding non-melanoma skin cancers) in women. In 2008, breast cancer caused 458,503 deaths worldwide (13.7% of cancer deaths in women).

So, Why Is This "For the Ladies"?

Please help me raise $4000 to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands! I will be wearing their colors proudly!

You caught me. It's more "about the ladies".

We all know what motivates guys. So I directed a post at them. It was a bit of adolescent fun.

Women are motivated...differently.

To that end, I happily will share this with you: I adore my wife.

I'll repeat that. I ADORE MY WIFE!

BCB is absolutely the light of my days. We're in our 14th year of marriage, and my passion for her has never waned. She completes me, teaching and nurturing and...simply being.

And the thought of her developing cancer crushes me.

She deserves better. She deserves to live a life without that suffering.

Cancer strikes at us all. Let's do something to end it.

Author's Note: It's late, and I'm feeling a bit mushy.
Three songs..special to me, that remind me of my beloved...


This one's about meeting her...



This one describes what she is to me...



This one expresses the way she affects me...

Limited Brands = Cool

Author's Note: This one's for the Limited Brands peloton.

I'm one of you, but I'm not of you

I'm in the peloton, but I'm not a Limited Brands associate.

I'm not married to one of you. I'm neither a vendor nor a consultant. I'm not from Columbus (not even close). I'm not from New York. Heck, I'm not even from Utah!

I do, occasionally (and accidentally) wear BCB's VS underwear But stories about sorting black bikini's in the near-dark at 0500 are, perhaps, better suited to another blog).

All of which contributes to my outsider's perspective on what the Limited Brands is doing for Pelotonia.

And what you are all a part of is, simply, remarkable.

Political Theory 101

When I first visited Columbus, I was struck by the city's small-town feel. The word "community" resonated—in a non-political way.

I grew up in New York, colleged in Miami, lived and travelled overseas for years, and work in Washington—I "get" big cities. All of them have their unique neighborhoods—each contributing to the patchwork that is a city, but not defining it. In these metropolises, "community" is a word used by politicians to denote...something larger than individual self-interest, but something artificial—a construct. It's a word that—from the left or the right--means: "my posse".

That ain't what you've got.

Pelotonia 2009 was a wet slap across the face for this urban observer.

Are YOU in this photo?

I saw a huge participation. I witnessed complete buy-in. It was apolitical. It was unselfish. It was...amazing.

And it felt truly grassroots. Sure, there were sponsors, but the power—the raw energy—came from people, not institutions.

Wonderful!

But limiting.

For Pelotonia to grow—and grow in a meaningful way—where "meaningful" translates as "raises more money"—organizations needed to step in to help buttress the solid, but fragile, structure. Pelotonia's foundation was strong, but growth needs support.

Enter, Limited Brands.

Leadership

You probably know (or know of) the backstory far better than I ever will. In essence, Limited Brands declared itself a leader—without declaring itself to be a leader. In 2010 the organization committed significant funding to support riders, and thus Pelotonia. By offering a corporate match, Limited Brands was following a basic economic principle: people respond to incentives.

The result? Thousands flocked to the peloton, committing themselves to raise money and get in shape to ride against cancer.

The result? Geography became less of a factor, as the peloton attracted riders and supporters from well-outside the Columbus community.

The result? Millions raised—just by the Limited Brands peloton.

Coolness

Andrew Keller observes:

To try to be cool is to not be cool. To chase cool, you're chasing something that already exists, which means you're always going to be on the wrong side of it, you'll always be following.

The King of Cool. He did it...all.
Oh....and cancer killed him.

I love that observation. It appeals to my sense of real.

The struggle to End Cancer is sexy.

The struggle to End Cancer is cool.

Cool is doing the right thing for the right reason in the right way...and with a little style and impeccable timing.

Limited Brands isn't chasing; it's leading. It's showing how to engage a corporation with the community, while breaking down silos and crossing borders. It's doing the right thing (charitable work) for the right reason (cancer affects us all, and we have the power to fight back), in the right way (through corporate matches, internal "friendly" competitions among brands, and through personal, C-level support and commitment), with a little style (VS Angels, rallys and pep events, and absolutely rocking jerseys...in pink!), and with impeccible timing (the communication and activity flow has been coordinated to peak this week, and the execution has been what you would expect from a world-class marketing organization).

That's a long sentence, designed to provide nuance to four simple words:

Limited Brands is cool.

Audacious You

Danton is credited with stating:

Pour les vaincre, messieurs, il nous faut de l'audace, encore de l'audace, et toujours de l'audace...!"

(To defeat them, gentlemen, we need audacity, still more audacity, and audacity forever...!)

Limited Brands is audacious. Its commitment is audacious.

The dead, angry French guy
is on topic!

What's audacious?

• Limited Brands committed $2.5 million over the next five years to support Pelotonia. With corporate matching of donations, it will likely be far more...
• Rick Paul raised more than $100,000, but he cannot ride on the date, so he rode last weekend. “It says on my website that I’m riding to Athens and back. It doesn’t say when."
• A Limited employee working in Dubai plans to start riding there at 3 p.m., which coincides with the 7 a.m. start next weekend in Columbus...
• Your story. Whatever it may be; it's contributing to the audacity of our fight against cancer.

Limited Brands isn't riding shotgun; Limited Brands is on point. Limited Brands is a leader, focused on defeating cancer.

And you play a part.

And I am privileged to be a part, and I am honored to be able to write this.

Chapeau! Limited Brands!

Roll on!

Author's Note: Often, when writing this blog, a song pops into my head, providing the theme music for the subject. Most times I'll place the tune in-line. Somehow, today, that didn't feel appropriate, so here it is, appended to the end of today's post. Share and enjoy!

Reassessing Expectations

This one's also about Pelotonia. But I'm not fundraising. I'm writing as a rider.

First, some history...

Pelotonia 2009

I rode with Lance. I felt great! I was thrilled to be there! As a rider, it was a wonderful experience.

Pelotonia 2010

I never blogged about the ride...for a number of reasons (though I'm not sure which reason was my tipping point...long story...even for me).

The Pelotonia Cycling Team led us out of town,
setting a paces that (eventually) caused a selection.

I rode with the lead group. The Pelotonia Cycling Team led us out of town. Once into farmland, the bunch began to dwindle. Sketchy group riders fell by the wayside. There was one crash I saw—a rider got bumped to the side of the road into a culvert, with a spectacular cartwheel the result.

When we got into the rolling hills, riders were dropped with each passing kilometer. The steady group pace was around 26 mph, and a lot of riders simply couldn't stay with it.

I was fortunate to have hooked up with one of the strongest of the strong, and a leader among the group. My friends, Sloane "I'm Big, I'm Army strong, I'm kinder than you can imagine" Spalding and Robert "I Ride BMC and can suffer like a bastard" Collier connected me to Dave "sure I'm skinny, but I'm stronger than YOU" Chesrow.

Dave particularly helped me to be accepted by a peloton that—at this point—was locals-only.

While local surfers are a floating gang that protects its favorite break, a local peloton is a rolling gang. It has its own character, pecking order, and mores. Make no mistake, I was an outsider. And I knew it.

And this makes sense. A fast-moving peloton demands a level of commitment and trust from its riders that few "normal people" can grok. We're traveling at 26+ mph on the flats and 40+ downhill. We're on twitchy, high-performance vehicles that have less than 3 square inches of road contact. We're drafting within inches of each other's wheels. And we occasionally bump—elbows, knees, hips—as we react to an ever-changing road flow, including debris, holes, animals, and vehicles.

"Neither a borrower no wheelsucker be..."

So, there I am, an out-of-town guy. Am I a strong rider? How am I in a bunch? Will I take my turns on the front? Will I wheelsuck? Can I climb? I had to prove myself, but having a "sponsor" made it a lot easier.

My goal was a sub-five hour time. This translates into a 20 mph average—including any stops along the way. When you consider the liquid necessaries (input AND output), that average speed needs to be even higher.

This group could do it.

I could do it.

Could we do it together?

The short answer is: yes. I came across the line in 4:56. This included necessaries. We were fast and well-supported. In fact, several of the crew had their own SAG support, which made all the difference in the world.

I was one of the first two cancer survivors across the line. I was one of the first three Limited Brands finishers.

But that's not the point of this post. I could write a detailed report, but (really) who cares. This is a post about now. Today. And one week from today.

Pelotonia 2011

Starner Hill. One leg. I'm thinking the lead group will
drop me like...something unpleasant...

I have written before that my goal for 2011 is to finish in the top 10.

Um...Er...Well...

I tore a muscle in my calf last week. I am writing this 11 days after the injury.

It's not healed.

Not even close.

I visited my physical-therapy guru. He was blunt. I need to re-set my expectations.

I went on my team's Wednesday night sufferfest. Sawtooth profile. Oh. My.

Imagine pedaling with one leg. Now add just 75% of the downstroke of the other leg.

The result? A 2.5 mile-per-hour drop in my average speed for that ride.

Wednesday's ride taught me a few things. I learned that at steady-state, I am still strong. What I can't do is surge, handling attacks or the accordion-like behavior of a competitive group. If left on the front, I can pull. But the dynamic aspect of a competitive ride is beyond me.

I learned that I can climb. In the saddle. Even on an 18% grade. I can even get out of the saddle. But I also learned that I can't so it for long.

I also learned that if I'm out of the saddle, I'm down to one and a quarter legs. I cannot pull up with my right, and I can't flex down with any power (driving through my calf).

Oh, did I mention that I'm right-dominant?

Shite.

Reassessing Expectations

I'm not ready to give up on the lead group just yet. I'm stubborn that way.

I need to test it.

The route to Thurmont...60+ miles one way.

Most of me believes that I can stay with the group over Starner Hill. But at what cost? Will I blow myself out on one-and-a-half legs? Will I be able to hang on (for dear life, by my fingernails) the whole 102? Will I tear the fibers more, rendering me useless?

So, Sunday morning I will be on the road at 0530. I will head for Thurmont, in a variation on my Father's Day ride. I will come home. I will ride for as long as necessary to complete the mileage. I won't care a whit about speed.

I'll come home, eat, shower, self-massage, and decide. I will answer the question: what are my expectations of myself for this ride.

And I will let you know on Monday.

It's About the Money

Pelotonia is about ending cancer....but you cannot fight this battle without financing. You can't win it without dollars. You can't kill the beast without cold, hard cash.

That'll Get Your Attention!

And that's why we work so hard to raise money for this cause.

When nearly 1 in 2 men and 1 in 3 women will develop cancer during their lifetime, it's not just my battle. It's yours, too.

It's worth repeating: nearly 1 in 2 men and 1 in 3 women will develop cancer during their lifetime

Some day, in some way, cancer will impact your life.

I'm about to shamelessly steal some copy from a friend of mine. It's good stuff. And he's nailed the thought:

Ok, so this is year 3 of Pelotonia, my third time and my third time going 180 miles. Unfortunately, we still have to ride. The mission of Pelotonia 2011 is One Goal: Cure Cancer. If you've ever been a part of this event, you know how serious they are about that goal and how urgently it's needed....

At the end of the day, this is a fundraising event, and it's about the money. That's the reality. But you have no idea what wings you provide with each bit of support and [your] donations.

If you can't give, please help me to spread the message. Every little bit of support counts!

Ending Cancer is Sexy

Please help me raise $4000 to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands!
  I will be wearing their colors proudly!

Author's Note: This one's for the guys...

So, how do I know that ending cancer is sexy?

Because they told me so (and who am I to argue with...them?


Really, lads, how much would you give to follow a Victoria's Secret paceline? How fast would you ride?

faster...Faster...FASTER!

I need to have a conversation with my VS contacts. We need VS Angels kits...in pink...shorty speed shorts...with wings...for the ladies...

Really, they would be for the ladies...