There are a lot of things I want to do this week, but getting on a bike is not one of them. Nor do I want to eat a banana, drink Gatorade, wear a helmet, or discuss the state of my ass. That being said, the Ride to Conquer Cancer was spectacular. I’m so proud of my team, my family, and yes, myself:
It was supposed to be a 200 km ride from Niagara to Toronto, but I know for a fact that, for whatever reason, they snuck in another 10 km or so at the end of the first day. It may have been to avoid traffic and/or construction, but my pal Sara had an odometer, and there was definitely some extra mileage added to the route. Which was ok, because I couldn’t feel anything from the waist down at that point, so what the hell.
The second day was, not surprisingly, harder. Certainly at first. The ride started with a long, glorious downhill, but if I’ve learned anything from cycling, it’s that for every down there is an up. And there was. But it WAS all downhill from there, as the saying goes, and the payoff was spectacular:
(Someone unfamiliar with the Ride asked me along the way how you get one of those yellow flags. Well, first you have to get cancer …)
Anyway. Thank you for all your support and encouragement, financially and emotionally. Nine years ago, I spent the summer getting chemo. I never thought I would be doing this less a decade later. I believe that a cure for cancer can be found in our lifetime. I also believe they snuck in an extra 10 km on Saturday, but that’s ok. Turns out I can handle that too.