PMC 2007

How do I recap a perfect day? It started at the dimly lit hour of 5am with the undeniable buzz of my alarm. My body and mind felt energized and ready for this day. We had 50 miles on a bike ahead of us, a challenging feat (though not relative to our previous 86 miles in years past). One note: P strained a leg muscle last week, so with the Chile ski trip coming up, the doc said to give it a rest this weekend and not push it. I wasn't alone though: our dear friends L & H were up from NYC to join us for the big ride.

The Pan-Mass Challenge is not just an athletic endeavor for me. It's an emotional roller coaster -- uplifting in all the amazing ways we and others are supporting and promoting cancer research funding, and reaching out to those still suffering from cancer -- but also sad in remembering all those we have lost from this disease (too many to count now). I think about this ride and I think about all these millions of dollars ($27 million in 2006) that haven't yet funded the research to find a cure that could have let my dad live to see another few years. I am often discouraged, but at the same time I am full of hope for the future. I think about my many friends whose parents are survivors (my mother-in-law and my step-mother included), and I am overjoyed that cancer hasn't taken their lives and they can still be with us.

We drove out to Wellesley for the start -- 7:30 and we're off. We wound down the shady streets, tree-lined and perfectly calming when it was a downhill stretch. I thought, isn't this easy? Life is a breeze! But then a hill would appear in the distance, creeping up on the horizon, at first appearing large, but little by little it evened out and as I adjusted my gears the hill became easier. It was conquerable. And once I hit the summit of this once near impossible hill, it blessed me with a breezy coast back down. Most streets were shady, the sun peeking through the umbrella of trees and offering light and warmth. At 80 degrees, the air was perfect. We stopped at 29 miles for a water break and to power up. With 19 miles to go, we needed it.

The second stretch was tougher. Hill after hill, with plateaus in between, I felt the rhythm of life played out in this four-hour ride. It was seemingly too hard to bear at points, but just when I thought I needed to get off the bike and walk uphill, the incline eased and I realized I had made it all the way up, and then the next thing I knew the wind was blowing in my face and I felt all the exhilaration of a roller coaster, without the nausea. Reaching the end at 11:40, I felt such thankfulness that God had seen me through all those ups and downs, the burning muscles, and the feelings of defeat. So this particular Sunday morning I praised Him -- not in church, but on the hard, sweaty seat of my road bike. I thanked Him for the peaks and the valleys, the giving and taking, and the joy amid the pain.