I wasn’t kidding when I called it the Hot and Sticky Party. At the peak of things, we had about 70+ people crammed into the apartment, and things were out of control. Sweat mingled with alcohol, and people were breaking it down on the dance floor. I won’t go into details, but at one point Andy Brockmann was basically having his clothes torn off.
Anyway, I hope everyone had a good time. If any pictures from the party surface, they will be posted here post-haste. Also, feel free to let me and Will (and everyone else) know what you thought of the party! Click reply below…
Carter asked me to put together some reflections on the Ride, so I have taken excerpts from my journal with some elaboration… After the first day, I had a slightly different experience than Carter and Sarah. I kept a journal throughout the Ride, although admittedly, much of what I wrote about the Ride was more in retrospect. This is probably more than anyone would want to know, but this is an account of my experience during June 12th through 16th.
Everyone got an early start on the last day. I guess people wanted to get home because there was so much commotion at 5:15 a.m. that we really could not have slept in much longer.
I took my medication (which turned out to be a double dose of Vioxx), and it really helped. I did not have much pain the first 30 miles. It was cool going through Manassas, knowing exactly where we were. At Pit 2 we made team name signs, but alas, the athletic tape did not want to stay stuck to our butts.
Just after Pit 2 Sarah’s gears started acting up. She couldn’t get out of the 1’s. We waited for 45 minutes for a sweep vehicle, but one never came. Eventually a kind soul rode past who knew how to fix it, and we were back on the road. The hills really began to hurt though. From Oakton on, it was basically non-stop Custis Trail hills, and every single one was a challenge. I ended up having to push through them with only one leg (and with no clips to pull), so it was slow plodding. Carter and Sarah were so encouraging with each hill. I could not have ridden into DC without them. Thanks for believing in me guys!
Anyway, we finished and had lunch. The last mile into Closing Ceremonies was powerful, seeing everyone in their shirts. The last stretch as we rounded the Capitol we saw friends and crew on both sides of the street cheering us on. When the last rider rode in, all riders raised their bikes high over their heads. What a powerful moment! 345 miles, and we had made it. After that there was a lot of cheesy over-the-top Pallotta stuff. They did the Riderless Bike Ceremony again, but this time it was more moving, perhaps because of the emotional culmination from the drugs, the frustration, and the pain.
Sarah was not able to ride the last mile into DC because she had to work. It was Father’s Day, and she had been unable to get anyone to work for her. It was too bad because Closing Ceremonies really helped bring everything together for me.
Will I do it again next year? Probably not. I don’t feel like a different person for doing it, but I am in better shape than I think I have ever been. The Ride required so much of my time, both in fundraising and in training. It took more time to fundraise than I had thought it would take, and it was so hard not to feel ties of self-worth to the fundraising crusade, especially in the times when it did not seem to be going well. In retrospect, I look at the Ride, and I see it as more of a yuppie’s venue to feel self-important. I did not feel like a hero for what I had done. Sure I was proud of many of my accomplishments, but I think heroism involves so much more. We had hot showers, clean towels, lots of food and water, adequate medical care, and massages. We could have done without some of those things to really support the cause.
However, I will admit that Pallotta was successful in one goal, showing us a community that could be. I did feel a sense of let-down when I returned home because I longed for the camaraderie and those random acts of kindness. I suppose the real heroes are those that can take the Pallotta mantra and apply it in their daily lives.
I voluntarily sagged Day 3. It hurt just to walk around or crawl in and out of the tent. The massage may have helped, but having pushed 100+ miles on a bad knee was too much for my body. I really wanted to ride into DC, and the only way I was [maybe] going to be able to do it was to stay off my leg at least another day.
It rained hard that morning. Andy and Alex (our tent neighbors) had already taken down their tent when it started pouring, so they were laughing at the three of us still huddled inside our tent. We were not about to get out.
The other memorable thing about that morning was the guy in black leather chaps who blasted Cher’s “Strong Enough” as everyone was debating whether or not to brave the rain in order to make it out of camp before camp closed.
The sag bus was not leaving for a while, so I volunteered to help pick up trash at camp. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I completely filled a large outdoor trash bag, and I saw at least another 20 people out on the field doing the same thing. I could not believe how much trash there was… everything from candy wrappers to old socks.
The bus ride was again miserably cold. Everyone was wrapped in hypothermia blankets. We stopped at each pit to pick up new saggers. The first couple times I got out to stretch my legs and thaw, but every time people kept asking me how my ride had been. I got so depressed I stopped getting off the bus.
When we got to lunch, they told us that there were so many riders at the pit stop that the sagged riders had to get our lunches and get back on the bus. Back to feeling like a leper. We proceeded to camp, but they told us that once we got to camp, we would not be able to get off the buses because the camp did not officially open until 2:00. They gave us the option to sit on the buses at camp or stop at a strip mall. We decided to go shopping. I went into the Burger King and used a “real bathroom” with running water – it was great! Then I went to CVS and picked up a pair of sunglasses for Sarah. She broke hers on the first day, and she hadn’t gotten a chance to buy new ones.
The camp that night was the best ever. Everyone was in high spirits because camp was dry. We were able to lay out our clothes and sleeping bags and get stuff dry finally. I put up Carter’s and my tents and grabbed all of our gear. After Carter and Sarah got into camp and we had all showered, we went up to cheer the riders coming into camp. I saw a man push a woman up the last hill. He was on foot and she was on a WalMart bike. Apparently, WalMart bikes are really heavy. It was exciting to see the smiles on everyone’s faces when we clapped and cheered for them. Finally some of those warm and fuzzy feelings we were supposed to get from the Ride.
That night I went to the med tent and talked to some of the docs about my knee. I told them I really wanted to be able to ride into DC – “What will it take to get me there?” I asked them if there was anything I could combine with my medication (Piroxicam) to help alleviate the pain. They deliberated for a while about what Piroxicam even was. Finally they determined that it was a mild anti-inflammatory. I would have been better off on ibuprofen. After learning the whole history of the injury, they understood that I was dealing with serious pain – finally, somebody believes me!! They decided to switch me to Vioxx for Day 4.
We went to bed fairly early that last night. I didn’t watch the talent show, and I should have met other people, but I was still too depressed to be outgoing.
I resolved that I was going to ride some back-to-back centuries once my knee healed. I still have to prove to myself that I can do it.
I went back to see the physical therapist first thing in the morning about my knee. I had seen him the night before (just before bed), but he told me to come back in the morning so that he could get a more accurate assessment. He couldn t find anything, so he told me to ride on it. I knew if the pain continued like it had on Day 1, it was going to be a long day. I was kind of hoping they would tell me not to ride so that I could blame them rather than having to make my own judgement call, but no such luck.
Sarah and Carter yelled at me when they saw me in my cycling shorts, but I told them, how can I not ride when there are other people who are hurt worse than me riding, and how can I not ride when a medical professional tells me to ride on it? Sarah told me I had been swerving a lot towards the end of Day 1. I guess I was trying to overcompensate for the pain.
I told them to go on without me for Day 2 because I wanted to be able to take my own pace. I didn t want to feel bad for holding them back. I made it about 3 miles, and the pain was getting really bad. I stopped and stretched, but I knew this was not a good sign. It was worse than the worst points of Day 1. I went another 2 miles, and the pain was only getting worse. I thought more and more about calling for help. No, giving up would have been harder than pushing through the pain.
But then, realistically, there was no way I was even going to make it to the next pit stop without tearing something. I realized that continuing to push through the pain was just a bad idea. What would I be proving? But could I live with myself if I didn t ride every mile? After a final painful jolt that left me screaming out loud, I made up my mind. I pulled off the road, got off, and crossed my arms over my head. That was it.
I cried the entire way to the pit stop. I had let down everyone who had sponsored me, everyone who believed in me. I wasn t physically able to complete every mile of the Ride. But I know if I had not been injured I could have completed it all. I know I was ready. Damn it all! Someone later commented that the AIDSRide makes you aware that there is a fine line between physicality, emotion, and spirituality. That was certainly true for me that day.
At Pit Stop 1 (where the mothers were MADR than MAD – Mothers Against Dehydrated Riders), I went straight to the Med Tent. There I saw a doc. He told me to stay off my knee at least through the rest of the day. His prescription was ice, stretching, and getting a proper bike fit to see if perhaps that could be the cause of the problem.
I waited in a very long line for the bike mechanic, and it appeared my fit was fine, so it was the tendon. He thought switching out the SPD pedals could help. Sometimes the SPD s can cause knee problems if they are off just a little, so he switched my bike to flat pedals. Kevin from Trek Bikes was awesome. He wouldn t take my money until I had a chance to try out the new pedals and decide whether or not I was going to keep them. He also only charged my $5. Sarah later told me her store sold the same ones for $20.
After the bike fitting, I ended up waiting several hours for the bus to transport us to lunch. The waiting that day was awful. I was so depressed, and the waiting didn t help. I had worked so hard for the AIDSRide, and I knew I was not going to do it again. There was no way I was going to go through the frustration of raising that kind of money again. Sure I support helping people with HIV and AIDS, and I support the work of Food & Friends and the Whitman Walker Clinic, but my real motivation for doing the ride was purely selfish I wanted to prove to myself that I could physically handle riding something that long. And now I couldn t ride. I felt like such a slacker, and I was jealous of every single person who could be on a bike. I suppose the way they treated sagged riders only made it worse.
My spirits lifted slightly at lunch. I talked to Rich, an aspiring pilot who was impressed that I knew so much about aviation. Well, having several friends who are pilots and having a friend and landlord who are commercial pilots, I have learned a thing or two about aviation. Rich, I should have gotten your contact info. I was not in the mood to hold any sort of conversation, but you brought me out of my funk and got me thinking about the future. I wish I could tell you now how much that conversation turned around my day. Good luck with flight school
After lunch, I waited another several hours on a freezing cold bus just to leave the lunch pit. We didn t end up rolling into camp until 6:00, the same time many of the riders got in. I still beat Carter and Sarah, so I got to work putting up our tent and grabbing gear. It was raining, so I got a tarp for our tent. The other riders and crew around us were so willing to help out that I finally caught a glimpse of the magical AIDSRide community the promotional brochures described.
I went for a massage that night well, it was really more of a stretching session, but I suppose it helped.
We woke up super early and headed over to the Scope Arena. Luckily, our bikes were still OK. We weren t sure since Dad left it to us to secure them. He didn t want to be held liable in case one of them fell (smart plan). Dad helped us unload everything, but then he took off. I was sad that he was not going to stay to watch Opening Ceremonies and see us off, but he was worried about finding parking with the big trailer on the back.
My father was gracious enough to drive us down to Norfolk. He even picked up the trailer to hook up to the back of his Honda Passport. His hours taking us down were also contributing to the volunteer hours that he used to gain a grant from ExxonMobil. This grant will be part of our contribution to the Washington, DC AIDSRide. Go Dad!
The drive down to Norfolk was kind of crazy. First, Carter could not find his phone, so he drove back to his place to get it. Next, Sarah realized she did not have her bike helmet. She thought she had it in her car (which was in Springfield because she had it towed to the dealership). However, since Sarah had her car towed, she wasn’t exactly sure where the car was. Through a process of elimination, we found the dealership, but alas, no helmet was to be found. Thus, we made stop at Performance Bike Shop to buy a new helmet. After yet some more stops for gas and lunch, we were on the road.
For the bulk of the ride, Carter and Sarah slept, but I had to stay awake and keep Dad company. I was so exhausted. I had worked both jobs on Monday and Tuesday, so I was working on a total of 8 hours of sleep for Monday and Tuesday nights combined.
We reached Norfolk around 3:30 p.m. Unfortunately, we could not do any checking in once we got there. Pallotta required everyone to watch a safety video before they could turn in money, get tent assignments, register, ANYTHING, until we had seen the video. They told us we would have to wait until 4:30 for the next video. Well, 4:30 rolled around, and we were still waiting. Around 4:45 they let us into the room only to tell us that they would not start the next video until 5:00. Even then, the video did not get started until 5:10. What a mess.
Needless to say, we were able to finish up, and all of us took care of all of the wrap-up we needed. Next stop was checking into our hotel and dinner at a fabulous Italian restaurant – excellent food, great service, and a tiramisu to die for!!
Once we got back to our hotel, Dad decided it was entirely too hot, so he got on the phone with the front desk and got us moved to another room. Oh, the drama.
The last couple of weeks I have been working in my spare time along with some people I work with to put together a site to help publicize and collect donations for a charity biking event, The Ride for Craig.
For those of you who don’t know Craig Dalton, he’s a co-worker of mine who I’ve known for three years and works out in our San Fransico office. Recently, Craig was diagnosed with cancer. Patrick, the president of my company and one of Craig’s best friends, decided to put this charity ride together to help raise money for Craig’s medical expenses and bring attention to National Leukemia and Lymphoma Awareness Month.
The ride runs 180 miles along the C&O canal. People can sign up to either ride the entire course, or portions of it. I’ll be riding the last two legs, which covers 60 miles. More info is available on the site.
So, my kickabll team had its first and, sadly, last kickball playoff game yesterday. We were up against We Kick Balls, a team that we had previously beaten handily in the past.
We started the game off well. I was first up and singled. Dave followed me up and blasted a home run to bring us both in. The rest of the game was pretty much downhill. They played deep the rest of the way and nullified our big scorers. Our infielding was horrible, and I single handedly cost us two runs in the bottom of the fifth (and last) inning. The final score was 6-5.
Sad as that ending to the season was, taken as a whole it was an awesome. I’m already thinking about next season, which will be interesting since I’ll be the president of our division. We’ll see what happens.
For everyone on my team: you rock. I hope you has as good a time as I did.
