http://www.pelotonia-pat.com
So Pelotonia has come and gone. The ride itself was interesting and challenging... I think it may have been the most physically challenging and enduring thing I've ever taken part in. It was grueling on both body and mind, as it was also a very emotional journey.
Friday - Registration
So Friday evening was registration. This was the only part of Pelotonia that was not as organized as I had hoped. Over an hour standing in line to register in the hot sun the day before you're going to bike 100 miles... Not fun. In their defense though, they were passing out popscicles and ice cream. I may have eaten my weight in deliciously cold products.
It's HOT!
After registering, we were treated to a dinner where we sat next to a young lady whose mouth ran faster than some 4 legged animals that live in Africa... Needless to say, she made it enjoyable for everyone surrounding her by entertaining us with tales of "this day at the spa" or "I think my diamond ring is too small" blah blah. We left, but not before we got to see the presentations.
Messages and Meanings
At first, there was a video presentation for Pelotonia 2010. You can watch the video here, and I really recommend that you do. You'll be amazed at the facts in here.
After the video, Dr. Mike Caligiuri, the Director and CEO at The James, took a few minutes to speak. He was thanking us all for what we were doing, and talking about the great things to come with the money we've raised. It was really nice to see such gratitude. He said a few things that really stuck in my mind...
- One in two men will get cancer.
- One in three women will get cancer.
- It only takes one discovery.
- I want to live in a cancer free world.
"It only takes one discovery." These were the words of hope to me. When you think of cancer, for someone who hasn't been exposed to it, it's pretty easy to generalize it all into one thing - cancer. However, for those of us who have met the demon (personally or through someone we know), we know that the demon has many names -
- Lymphoma
- Breast Cancer
- Skin Cancer
- Thyroid Cancer
- Prostate Cancer
- Colon Cancer
- Kidney Cancer
- Pancreatic Cancer
- Mouth Cancer
- Lung Cancer
Tackling on 200 demons sounds like a nightmarish hell to me. I can't even begin to think about how overwhelmed our doctors and researchers must feel as they deal with these 200+ demons. But Dr. Caligiuri said something that brought me hope - "It only takes on discovery."
Dr. Mike Caligiuri and I
What a line... This may go down with some of the other more memorable lines of our time.
"There can be only one..." - Highlander
"One ring to rule them all..." - Lord of the Rings
"It only takes one discovery..." - Dr. Caligiuri
You see, the demon may have different names... different faces... but it has one thing in common. A weakness. It's only a matter of time until Dr. Caligiuri finds that weakness and slays the beast.
"I want to live in a cancer free world." A message of hope. A goal. Something that, given the above statistics, we should all be striving for. A goal that is reached by research. A goal that is reached by testing. But most importantly, a goal that is reached by funding.
I want to live in a cancer free world.
- I want to live in a world that didn't take my grandfather from me at age 11 due to pancreatic cancer.
- I want to live in a world that didn't put my best friend through chemo at 23 years of age.
- I want to live in a world where my boss's wife doesn't have brain cancer.
- I want to live in a world where the fiance of a close friend of mine didn't have to have Thyroid cancer at a young age.
- I want to live in a world where no one has to have toxic chemicals coursing through their veins to kill something even more toxic in their body.
- I want to live in a world where my friends, relatives, families and others don't have to cry at the loss of a loved one from cancer.
- I want to live in a world where I don't have to worry about my future son or daughter getting cancer.
- But most importantly...
The research conducted by the funding we've provided via Pelotonia is used to not only find cures, but to also find preventative measures and vaccines. This really struck home to be, because the first time I had the chance to speak with Dr. Caligiuri, he told be he was working on a vaccine for transplant patients to prevent them from developing various forms of Lymphoma. Funding makes this all happen. The Ohio State University allocates approx $40 million a year for cancer research. This year, Pelotonia is estimated to bring in $8 million. Because of you and your support, we've raised an additional 20% of the overall funding for cancer research at The James. Absolutely amazing.
Strength and Determination
After Dr. Caliguiri's presentation, Chris Speilman came up to talk. Chris was the husband of Stephanie Speilman, a very well known individual in the Columbus area who promoted Breast Cancer research and awareness. Anyone who has taken part in the Relay for Life in Columbus knows about her. Unfortunately, after a 12 year struggle, Stephanie passed away to Breast Cancer 9 months ago.
Chris, being a stronger person than every single person attending the event combined, went on stage and gave an amazing presentation. He talked about his wife's passion for fighting cancer, and how he promised to carry on her message. He ended with the following video.
Cherie and I left Friday evening before any of the bands began to play. Truth be told, we were hot, tired, and hungry. We were also inspired. We went home, ate some pasta, watched Tron, and went to bed.
Saturday - Getting Ready
About four and a half hours later, I woke up. Let's just say the morning didn't go as smooth as possible for us. We left, leaving inside my B12 and electrolyte packets, along with Cherie's cell phone and house keys. That, however, is another story (spoiler alert: she got home and inside eventually).
Isn't the above picture great? I think Kent nailed it when he said I looked like a wet rat. Thanks, buddy!
Anyways, we got to the race around 5:45. Cherie and I grabbed some food and then went to our designated staging areas. I met up with Bob, my riding partner for the trip, and we got ready. Three months of training was about to pay off.
Bob and I, ready to go!
The First Half - Easy Breezy
We headed out. The first 42 miles were pretty uneventful. Flat terrain. Traffic stopped for us. Bob dropped his water bottle down High Street. Yep, overall, uneventful.
We stopped for lunch at Amanda. I had been snacking on power bars every hour ( 3 - 4 grams of protein / hr) so I wasn't particularly hungry. However we did run into Drew and Tara, as well as Rick Nash and R.J. Umberger.
After our lovely photo shoots, we headed out. The next 15 miles was when the hills began. They were rough, but not horrible. I don't remember much about this stretch of biking, but I do have something permanently engraved forever in my mind's eye...
A Face to the Fundraising
Bob and I had just come up a small hill and around a bend. There was a family outside cheering us on. This was pretty typical of the ride so far. We would smile, wave, strike funny poses, etc... However, this time, there was a lady... I couldn't tell you how old she was. She was sitting in her chair, waving and ringing a cowbell. We waved by as we past. With a huge smile on her face, she removed her cap to reveal her bald head.
It was a symbol... I didn't know what it stood for though. I'm not sure if I still do. What had shocked me so much about this? She was outside with a smile on her face... she wasn't in pain... she wasn't sad... she wasn't angry that life had dealt her a bad card...
She was grateful.
And that's when it hit. Up until now, Pelotonia was about raising money and surviving the bike ride. Now, I met someone who I hoped... no, who I KNEW that I would be making a change in their life. Completing the ride wasn't important anymore. I had already done my part to help with cancer research. However, looking at her, I wished more than anything that I could do more.
Hill After Hill After Hill After...
We finished that 15 mile stage and stopped to rest before we hit the big hill stage. As we approached what I like to refer to "Holy Crap Hill", we were encountered by a photographer who was taking pictures of everyone walking up the hill. Yep, it was that bad. Bob and I made it about halfway up it and decided to walk. Just as we crested the hill and thought it was over, we approached "Holy Crap It Isn't Over Hill." Truth be told, I think we called the hill something else at the time...
I looked at this hill. I stood beside my bike and I stared at it. I thought of my training and how dedicated I was. I thought of the lady who must've recently went through chemo and/or radiation, sitting on the side of the rode with a cap on to protect her bald head from getting sunburned, cheering us on. I thought of Adriane, who never gave up during her struggle with cancer or her Olympic training.. I got on my bike...
And I climbed every hill for the rest of Pelotonia.
This may not seem like a great feat to some of you, however, let me tell you... Those aren't hills so much as they are mini mountain ranges. I may have been in my "Granny Gears" peddling up those hills, but I conquered them. I tried to tell myself that if these patients could survive chemo and radiation, then I could survive some hills. I quickly realized that these hills were nothing compared to the trials and tribulations that cancer patients go through every day...
And I shut my mouth, quit complaining, and kept climbing.
A Rest and a Stop from Mr. Bear
Once at the top of the major hills, a family had created a rest stop for us. Drinks, snacks, fresh cookies, bananas... All bought and setup by this family, completely independent of Pelotonia. It was a welcoming rest at the end of the climb.
I met back up with Bob and we continued on to the rest stop, now about 7 or 8 miles away. I was beginning to get a little slap-happy at this point. Fortunately for us, we ran into a bear who was more than willing to share some of his catch with us. After a quick bite with Mr. Bear, we finished the stage and hit the rest stop.
Man, I love this pic... aside from the goofy pose I'm doing with my legs. You try biking 50+ miles and tackling those hills. Let me know what your legs do. Then come make fun of me.
Rain Rain Go Away
We arrived at the rest stop just as it began to lightly sprinkle. After taking care of refilling our drinks and a quick stretch, the rain came. Not a sprinkle, but a steady, drenching rain. Now, I had toyed with getting rain gear, but decided against it a few days before the ride. Thankfully, my wife thought it would be a lovely present to get me. While I may have totally hated carrying it around for the first half of the day, the rain gear turned out to be a life saver for me.
Fifteen miles in the rain... Rain running down your face, in your mouth... Spraying up from your back tire, up your jersey... Spraying from the person's back tire in front of you in your face. I know some riders thought this was comfortable and a relaxing. Personally, I think these riders are crazy.
Fortunately for us, the duration of this stage was uneventful. We rode in the rain to the next rest stop, where the rain eventually ended.
The Wall
The next stop was great. It was in a park area, complete with tents of food and people cheering us on. Only 15 miles or so to go! And it was all flat! Whoo hoo! Nothing could stop me, or so I thought.
We hit the rail trail. Up until now, we were very fortunate to have police officers at every stop for us, holding up traffic and letting us know we were clear. This turned out to be a mixed blessing. We became very spoiled to this luxury, which turned out to be dangerous. The first crossing we came to on the rail trail had a guard there who waved us on. The next did not. We didn't really think of it, having just spent the past 7 or so hours on a bike with guards at each intersection. We approached it, just in time to see a truck coming from the right.
Well, we had plenty of time to stop, and safely did so. I just remember being there, thinking how stupid it was for Pelotonia to not have a guard at this very busy intersection. While I was daydreaming about this, Bob apparently was unable to remove from his clips, lost his balance, and... well I wouldn't say fell on me, as it was much more of a push. Don't believe me? You can ask him yourself. Thanks, Bob!
We got up. No major damage done. I think Bob may have scraped up his leg a bit. We rode on. As we were riding, I kept looking down at the pedometer... 8 miles to go.... 6 miles to go... About this point, I was struggling. I told Bob to go ahead and I'd meet him at the end. He was doing fine and I didn't want to hold him up. Apparently the hills were catching up to me now.
5 miles to go... And my legs refused to turn. The wall...
I had always heard about this mythical "wall". Mostly, I had heard runners describe it. I always thought it was a lame excuse to say, "I'm just tired." Well, that's not it at all. I wasn't tired... I was exhausted. I was spent. I had nothing left to give. I tried to psych myself up, but it didn't work.
3 miles to go... Not going any faster. I remember being passed by various groups of riders I had past earlier on the stage. I remember being disgusted with myself... I wanted to get off my bike, curl up and cry with shame...
With about 1 mile to go, there was a lady on my left all alone... I saw her, probably 200 yards away. She saw me struggling. She began to ring a cowbell and cheer me on. Not another soul around me... She was cheering for only me. God bless this woman. She gave me the strength to start pedaling again. I started moving my legs, crossed the finish line, and got off my bike. Bob promptly took my bike from my hands. He knew I wasn't doing so good. Thanks, bud.
"I'm Gunna Vomit or Pass-Out"
These were the first words I spoke after crossing the finish line. I walked over to the first-aid tent, muttered these words with what little strength I had left, and promptly fell into a chair.
I was assisted over to a table behind the tent. A couple local paramedics began taking off my shoes and jersey. They took various vitals, asked me questions. I remember answering them clearly and correctly, but I also remember... well it wasn't passing out, but more or less falling asleep for 10 seconds at a time.
Blood pressure - 130/50. Well, I take my BP regularly because of my kidney transplant, and I have never had my lower number that low. I laid there for a few minutes, had some apple sauce and some water. I felt better. I thank the paramedics and staff repeatedly for their help and kindness and took off... but not before Bob snapped this great pic.
Saturday Night Recovery
After the drama ended, Bob and I got a cab to the hotel. After a quick shower, we walked over to Bob Evan's and ate.
Ate may be an understatement here... I had ordered fried chicken, salad, biscuits and gravy, french fries and orange juice. Bob ordered the same, but instead of gravy, he got a Belgian waffle. As I sat there eating, I realized I made a huge mistake that day. I remember reading on a biker blog that you should eat 3 - 4 grams of protein per hour of riding. So, every hour I ate a bite sized power bar. Well this is great and all, but it also tided my appetite over for most of the day. I hadn't eaten any real food for the whole day, aside from half of a sandwich at lunch. Well, this same mistake would not be made again Sunday...
We went back to the hotel after dinner and hit the hot tub and pool. After relaxing a bit, we headed up to the room. Both of us were pretty scared about tomorrow... I think we were half praying for a rainstorm to come in and save us from having to ride the next day. We killed the lights at 9:30 and went to sleep.
Newborns don't sleep as soundly as we did that night...
Tragedy
I remember lying in bed. Bob had gotten up and checked his email on his phone. I remember him saying, "Oh no..." and I knew something wasn't right.
As I'm sure you all have heard by now, Saturday during the ride, a biker, Michelle Kazlausky, was struck and killed by a truck. I'm not going to recap the details of what happened.
I remember lying in bed, thinking "How could this happen? This isn't supposed to happen..." I was sad... I was depressed... I was confused... I was scared...
Bob and I didn't talk much that morning. We both knew what the other was thinking. We gave each other our space, packed up, and got a cab back to the ride.
When we got back to the start line, there were already a lot of people there and ready. You could look at them and read it in their eyes. They were saddened by the lose of a fellow rider. Someone who selflessly wanted to help the community... to help others... killed. No one spoke of it, but you knew it was on everyone's mind.
Bob and I got some breakfast, tried to put the horrible news behind us, and got ready for the challenge ahead.
The Ride Home
For as scared as I was to participate in the ride home, it really turned out to be much easier than I thought. I did a few things differently. At every stop, I made sure I spent at least 10 - 15 minutes there. I made sure I ate a PBJ sandwich, some fruit, drank plenty, and stretched. I wish I had done this day one... I may have never hit the wall. Oh well. We'll chalk that up in the "Lessons Learned" column.
I also learned the amazing power of drafting. I honestly figured this was a bunch of B.S., however it really works. I remember being on a straight-away doing about 16.5MPH. I got behind some people and my speed shot up to 20MPH, and I didn't have to work nearly as hard at it. For the rest of the day, I drafted where I could. Thanks, NASCAR, for teaching me something useful!
Bob and I started out together from each rest stop, but we'd split up during the stage and meet back up at the next stop. The ride home... well, I really don't have too much to say. There were some fast downhills that were very interesting. I remember hitting 43+MPH at one point and totally freaking out. I remember cruising around curves and cliff sides at 35+ MPH and just praying I wouldn't lose control.
The final stage, Bob and I started off together. We biked along and got to the first hill. Bob was in front. I went to shift gears and lost my chain. At this point, Bob was too far up the hill to hear me. He went on, and I would eventually meet him at the finish.
When we got off the main roads on the last stage, we had 2 miles left to go inside a state park. I pulled in alone. Cars were leaving with Pelotonia bikers in them. I thought they must be exhausted, but they had enough energy to stick their heads out and cheer me on. Cars honked, waved, yelled... It was amazing.
I biked... I biked as hard as I could. I biked until there was acid coursing through my veins. It reminded me of Adriane telling me about her first chemo treatment, and that it burned her veins so bad... And I pressed on even harder.
Three Months of Training Pays Off
I crossed the finish line. Cherie was there, taking video of me crossing with my arms extended in the typical victory pose... Was I really victorious? Did I deserve these people cheering me on? I didn't do anything special. Cheer the doctors and researchers on. They're the heroes. I'm just a scrawny Asian who managed to bike 180 miles and raise over $2150 for cancer research. In the grand scheme of things, I'm a nobody... But that didn't make me any less special to the Pelotonia staff. To them, I was a hero... and it felt great.
I got off my bike, got a hug and a kiss from Cherie, and a.... well just a hug from Bob. We had done it.
Crossing the finish line: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WUkkCrvKWsM&feature=mfu_channel
We went over to the food tent and I ate. I ate like I hadn't eaten in a month. After I had properly gorged myself, Cherie drove me home. I grabbed a shower, hit the bed, and fell asleep.
Three-toed tree sloths don't sleep nearly as good as I did for that hour and a half.
Friendship
As I laid in bed, I was awaken to Adriane entering my room. I was half asleep, but happy to see her. Cherie was out front doing something. I remember looking at Adriane and saying, "If Cherie knew you were in our mess of a room, she'd kill us both..."
We talked for a few minutes. She thanked me for my incredible journey. I specifically recall her saying that, because I thought to myself, "This isn't a journey... What you went through, and what you've done with your life... That's a journey." She pulled out some old pictures from high school. I woke up immediately. I was laughing and smiling.... boardline crying. I couldn't believe the memories these pictures were bringing back.
She left, but not before she gave me a letter. It was a letter I had wrote her when I was a freshman in college. I read it. I cried. I couldn't believe she had this still.
The letter was... I'm not sure what it was. I'm not sure why I wrote it either at the time... It had talked of our friendship and how much it meant to me. It mentioned little details, like jet skiing, or sitting outside one night just talking. I told her how important she was to me, and that I hoped college wouldn't get in the way of our friendship. I didn't want to lose her to something like college.
And here we are... Eight years after college graduation... As close as ever. Thank you. Friendship isn't something that will always be there. It must be maintained. It must be worked at. Fortunately for our friendship, it's been little work, and lots of fun.
We went out that evening to dinner. We ate. We laughed. We enjoyed life, as everyone should, every day of their own.
To Adriane -
All this, I did for you. You knew this before the ride... You knew this during the ride... You know this now. I could lose one of my legs tomorrow and I'd still do it next year, just for you.
Adriane, I've know you... Well since 5th grade technically. I think the first time I really met you was at a football game in 7th grade. You and Stacie T. were running around being goofy. Amazing how I remember that.
Adriane and I - 1998
Over our many years of friendship, we've shared many memories together. Some of these have been the happiest memories of my life, while some have been the absolute saddest.
I remember Prom. I don't remember if I actually asked you or if you asked me. I was scared... I was a dork. If you ended up asking me, thanks for taking that burden off my head. That was a great night!
I remember the day after your father passed. I remember walking through the door of your house with Brian and Kent. The three of us were standing there. You ran right to me and cried on my shoulder. I would've given anything in the world to take your pain away, and I still wish I could.
I remember walking into the hospital room the night you found out that you had cancer. I drove that night to Youngstown. I was so frantic I don't even know if I packed clothes. I just remember rushing out the door to be by your side. I was scared... so scared. You were lying in bed, your happy, goofy self. God bless you for always being able to look on the bright side of everything. I'm glad there are some people in this world who can still do that.
I remember coming back to the hospital that night. I had just gotten my head shaved. This was about 1 or 2 months before I was due for my transplant. I looked like Powder. I looked like death. I walked in your room, removed my hood, and you laughed with joy. It was the happiest sound ever.
I remember you standing by my side in the hospital as I was getting my Central IV put in. I remember you being there at the hospital during my transplant. I remember you taking care of Cherie and keeping her sane. Thank you.
I remember you at my wedding. If I could've, you would have been a groomsman, but I know both Cherie and I are so happy that you were a bridesmaid.
I remember you at the North American Cup fencing tournament... The biggest day in my sports career. I'm so glad that I got to share that victory with you.
Why did I do Pelotonia? Because I can't imagine a world without you, Adriane. None of us can. Adriane, Cherie and I look forward to many more memories with you. Thank you for your strength, inspiration, and spirit. You are a true inspiration to all of us.
One Final Comment
I hope that you've enjoyed reading about my ride, my journey, and my friendship with Adriane. I hope that every one of you has a friend like Adriane. Words cannot even begin to describe how awesome she is... How much of an impact she has had on my life... How much of an impact she can have on a complete stranger just by saying "Hello" to them. She is a wonderful, magical person. This world is a better place with her in it.
So I say "Thank You". Thank you, doctors and researchers, for all your efforts and breakthroughs in treatments, so that the world can know and love Adriane.
"Thank You", Pelotonia, for creating such a great fundraiser... For helping to find a way to slay the beast... For helping find ways to prevent the beast from ever attacking.
"Thank You", everyone who made a donation. If you've read my blog, you know how important your donation really is. It wasn't some money thrown my way so I could ride my bike... No, your donation is going to find a cure to cancer. Thank you.
"Thank You", Adriane. You are my strength and inspiration. You are a role model. But above all, you are my friend. Thank you.
I want to live in a cancer free world. I don't want another person to be taken from this horrible beast. I don't want another person to suffer because of this monster. I was fortunate enough to have my friend survive the demon's attack. I also know others who have not been so fortunate. We all must team together to slay the beast... So no one has to suffer again.
Truth be told, me and you... we're not going to find the cure for cancer. But we can do our part. Please, show your support. If you want to live in a cancer free world, make a donation. If you know someone with cancer, make a donation for their recovery. If you know someone who has lost their battle with cancer, make a donation so another may not fall. If you know and care about anyone in the world, make a donation to help prevent them from ever meeting the beast, personally or through someone else.
This isn't a last ditch effort to raise money for my goal. I've already beaten my goal by $150+ dollars. This is an honest request. Show your support. For a freind. For a loved one. For a stranger. For yourself. Together we can end cancer. http://www.pelotonia.org/ride/riders_profile.jsp?MemberID=55449
One goal.
I want to live in a cancer free world.
Do you?
