There are times when you wish time would stand still (like the moment BEFORE you heard the words “sorry, you have _____ cancer”) or when you are at the finish line at the Huntsman Cancer Institute after 140 miles on the bike and surrounded buy friends and family. The top of Sacramento pass is an emotional time shared only with riders and support crew, but at the Huntsman the emotion is shared with the world. This ride has brought many great memories and new friendships made and old ones further solidified. (You have to do the ride to truly know the full impact of those last two sentences.) It was a good day on the bike made even better by all those who joined in either in a support/planning role or to put foot to peddle on the road. Surpassing our goals in terms of both the number of riders and the donations to cancer research means this event is changing lives! It is wonderful when one can look back and say “I was part of that.” I even got a little full of myself when people kept coming up to me to get a photo, that is until I realized it really wasn’t me but “Toad” the Huntsman bear that was mounted on my helmet and road there the last three days they wanted to photograph.
Thanks to Jeff and his vision, to those who peddle all the miles, to all our support people both on the road and at home, to the Huntsman and their staff and all those who have helped see the vision start to take place because I believe this is just the start. This will become a premier cycling event in Utah – watch us grow sounds like a good motto. Or maybe it should be what I found in the fortune cookie I had save to open Saturday morning, “There is no distance too far.”
Anyway the reality of what people with cancer face came crashing down on me Friday when I got a call from a Dr. at the Huntsman wanting to know when he could schedule my surgery. Next year I will be wearing a Survivors shirt and back here on my bike helping to carry out Jeff’s vision. Plan now to be there with me.