Team Nature’s Path Racing Blog

In my first year of participation in the Pan Mass Challenge I crashed twice, had three flat tires and rode through a deluge for 80 miles.  As I crossed that Provincetown finish line eleven years ago, half drowned, blood seeping from my bandaged right elbow, pedaling on a cracked left cleat and with several new scratches on my bicycle, I just knew this was the start of a long-term relationship.

 

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Saturday August 1, the first day of the Pan Mass Challenge, was my first century of 2009.  Last year before this event I had done 12 centuries.  Despite the lower training mileage, I felt strong.  My planned strategic approach called for brief “splash and dash” rest stops.  Less time at the stops reduces cramping in the quads, calves and hamstrings.  Keep moving!

 

I ride for Dad, Dick and Bob.  Dad faced cancers of the colon, prostate, bladder and lung.  My Uncles Dick and Bob also fought colon cancer.  All three endured surgery and terrible chemotherapy.  My lifestyle is different from theirs so perhaps my odds of avoiding colon cancer are good despite heredity.  My brothers and I are on regular scoping programs, but we worry. 

I ride for my Aunt Barbara, who decided to forgo chemotherapy and radiation following her recent lumpectomy.  I ride for Grammy Ann, who suffered a terrible lingering death from stomach cancer, emaciated and in great pain.

I ride for Michele, who battled Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and breast cancer with the strength, determination and courage that people talk about but seldom witness.

My friend Barbara cycled across America five times with her husband Richard, before his death from cancers of the esophagus, stomach and liver. Barbara asked me to think of him during my ride, and I am honored by her request.  I ride for Richard.

I ride for Marie, my friend from high school, who recently underwent surgery for breast cancer.  Creative and cool, Marie tells me she added a tattoo, right there!

 

Banking hard around a curve, I watched my odometer turn past 100 miles.  After draining the remaining water from my front bottle, I reached down and lifted the rear container, noting from the weight that it was nearly full.  Coasting for a moment, I carefully switched the bottles so the full one would be in front and more readily accessible.  I stepped up the pace and hammered past the final rest stop. Cruising past the volunteer trying to wave me in, I waved and said “No thanks.”  Beyond, on a gradual incline in the town of Onset I jacked up the pace to 22 mph, moved to the left and blew past a four-man pace line.  Despite starting to tire, I dug into my reserves and held that pace.

 

I ride for Peggy’s sister Mary who has twice undergone surgery for breast cancer.  I also ride for Peggy’s cousin Susie.  After Susie’s June lumpectomy the doctors found that the margins were not good, so in July she had a mastectomy.

I ride for Freddie, cousin of my friend Steve. Freddie was a decorated Marine, a Viet Nam veteran.  In June he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  He died in July.

I ride for Pam.  After fighting off breast cancer, a period of remission gave reason for cautious optimism.  Eventually the demons reappeared, however, this time in her lumbar vertebrae.  Friendly and cheerful, always upbeat, she saw each individual day of survival as a separate miracle.  She took her final breath while I was riding in the 2004 Pan Mass Challenge.

 

At 106 miles I maintained a steady pace.  To my astonishment, I was decisively passed by a husky guy wearing red sweat pants.  What’s up with that? 

After 112 miles, I crossed the finish line at 12:20pm, shaving 34 minutes from last year’s time.

 

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At 5:00am on Sunday, August 2 Terri and I rode alongside the Cape Cod Canal .  Four years ago, just three weeks before the 2005 Pan Mass Challenge, a cancerous lump was removed from her breast.  Before starting chemotherapy she rode in that event, intending to ride just the 20 miles to the first rest stop.  With minimal training, in a show of strength consistent with her character, she instead rode 70 miles to the lunch stop.  I ride for (and with) Terri.

 

Despite general perceptions, Cape Cod is NOT flat.  Tearing through early morning fog on a series of rolling hills, I thought of John, an anesthesiologist and father of four, who bounced back from two surgeries to excise brain tumors.  I ride for John.

At 39 miles I led a five person pace line over the crest of a hill.  As I pushed hard down the other side, an enormous crowd cheered, yelled, screamed, pounded drums, played bagpipes and blew horns, providing an incredible boost at a time when riders had 151 miles behind them, and 41 ahead.

One mile further I rolled into the rest stop at Nickerson State Park .  In an annual highlight of the Pan Mass Challenge, I had my photo taken with Jack, whose sign this year said “Thanks to you I’m 13!”  I ride for Jack.

Four years ago Carolyn hooked me up with a friend and got me my current job.  She has since moved to a different part of Virginia but we remain in touch.  She is doing well after treatment for breast cancer earlier this year.  I ride for Carolyn.

 

Cape Cod resembles an arm with clenched fist.  With eight miles left we rode along Route 6 on the peninsula’s narrow wrist.  To the right was the Atlantic Ocean, and behind a row of houses to the left, Cape Cod Bay .  This is an extraordinarily windy place, and I don’t mean tailwinds.

I felt focused, steady and strong…..I can’t remember feeling this strong at the end of a long ride.  With four or five other riders in tow, I worked to pull them through the ferocious headwind.  Several miles later where the wrist meets the fist, I jumped from my saddle and climbed the short hill there.  At the crest I glanced at my mirror and realized I was alone. 

The hills through the dunes were just as evil as in previous years, but with only three miles left it was impossible to be discouraged.  After 80 miles I crossed the finish line in Provincetown at 9:34am, 18 minutes earlier than last year.  A volunteer handed me a bottle of cold water, dripping with condensation.  Delicious.

 

It is time to make a commitment.  I am 54 years old.  I will ride in this event every year until I am 70.  Maybe I’ll stop then.  Or maybe not. 

The 2010 Pan Mass Challenge begins in 8,650 hours.