REAL Hugs

I was watching Entertainment Tonight earlier and a segment about the Best Buddies ride in California caught my attention. Initially, the interview with Maria Shriver made me look up from my computer (the first miracle of the night per Carol). The cyclists on the Pacific Coast Highway brought back wonderful memories from last June and my heart rate jumped up a few notches. The biggest eye-catcher, however, was the scene of the finish line as the cyclists were met with intellectually and developmentally challenged children and adults with open arms.

I know those hugs. I felt them as a volunteer for Special Olympics years ago. Now before you give me accolades for such wonderful volunteer work, let me give you the facts. First of all, I was scared to death of the athletes. They were different and I had never been around anyone like them. Secondly, I was assigned the job of hugging the athletes as they crossed the finish line, walked to the water line, walked towards the award stage or wherever there was an opportunity to hug them. While this might sound like a great job, I was down-right terrified. You see, I didn’t grow up in a “huggy” environment. Love was never a question – but hugs were not a common practice. So there I was – assigned the role of hugging people and feeling the cold sweat of nervousness. Little did I know that these beautiful athletes would teach me how to “really” hug – not the cold, quick, barely touch someone hug – but a real hug. After my first hug, I fell in love with them and realized they weren’t scary at all. After the hundredth or so hug (if you’ve ever been to the Special Olympics, you know what I mean), I had officially mastered how to hug. They taught me two of the most important lessons I’ve learned in my life – just because we’re different doesn’t mean we’re scary and hugs can make you so happy.

On the infamous Day 2 of the 2011 AIDS LifeCycle – yes, the freezing rain day – I was huddled under the 3-foot roof overhang of a park building with a hundred other riders. I couldn’t stop shivering and couldn’t complete a sentence because my mouth wouldn’t work right from my teeth chattering. A guy next to me put his arms around me and said “cuddle up with me and see if that helps.” His big hug warmed me and helped me not shiver so much. I have no idea who he was but I sure love that guy!

As I think about so many of the stories I’ve heard from HIV positive men and women over the last year, way too often I have heard about the darkest side of stigma. The number of hugs that have been withheld are heart-breaking. Perhaps some of this is due to an anxiety similar to mine during my first Special Olympics encounter. If so, I pray the first hug can break through to change the ending of the stories I have heard. For so many, the biographies are still being written, so there is time. Medications can help the body and fight the progression to AIDS, but they can’t do what hugs can do. So if you know an HIV/AIDS friend, partner, acquaintance or family member – give them a hug – a REAL hug. It just might change your life.

More Passion Than Skill

Original posting:  http://aidsvaccine200.wordpress.com/2012/11/21/belva-white/

Never say never. My friend David Hanson, a former AV200 rider, asked me over 5 years ago if I would ride 35 miles in a ride that started at Emory and went to Madison and back.  I told him he was crazy, I didn’t own a bike and even if I did, I would never ride that far.

I haven’t been cycling for long – less than 5 years – and I only did my first century ride in May 2011; all 100 miles of which were ridden in one gear because I didn’t know how to change gears.  It’s hard to believe that in 2012, I pedaled over 1700 miles with 1090 of those dedicated to AIDS. I plan to ride another 1000 in 2013 with the AV200 (200 miles), the AIDS LifeCycle (545 miles) and the Charity Treks (425 miles).

One thing is for sure – I don’t do this because I’m a great cyclist.  I’m very slow and generally take pride in escorting the SAG vehicles into camp.  Hills still make me say bad words and I get to see all of the cool jerseys as other riders pass me.  So for anyone out there who thinks they aren’t good enough to tackle the AV200 challenge – you’ll have to find another excuse as this has nothing to do with being a good cyclist!  It has EVERYTHING to do with passion and wanting to change the future.

During my 14 days of the year pedaling for AIDS, I’m just a rider like everyone else.  No one cares about titles, about politics, about financial status or any of the other unimportant themes we run into during “real life.”  When I first signed up for the AV200, I did so because I learned a friend is HIV positive.  I started a journey of trying to learn more about it and was quickly confronted with the associated stigma.  I asked my AV200 memorial donors last year to tell me about their friend or partner.  The words they shared with me changed my future.  They ignited a fire within me that I cannot really explain but feel called to honor. 

I have been asked why I ride so many miles for HIV/AIDS and there are a number of reasons.  First, I believe that an AIDS vaccine is the only way to truly end this epidemic.  Second, I believe that I am called to care for people currently dealing with the challenges HIV/AIDS and I personally love and know many of them.  Third, I believe that stigma is flat-out wrong.  Fourth, the stories of HIV/AIDS victims move me and I want the world to know how special they are/were.

If you have ever seen a mob of cyclists on the road, you are aware of how they demand your attention.  By riding together in the AV200, we are collectively raising awareness for an AIDS vaccine.  WE are that mob.  WE are noticed.  At rest stops, you might be asked why you are riding and the door is opened for education and perhaps collecting a dollar or two for the cause.  Together, WE make a difference.

The AV200 ride really is for everyone.  The relay rides allow for a fun, less stressful ride for anyone preferring a shorter route.  There are plenty of Couch to Century training guides to get you ready and the support of the AV200 ride leaders is amazing.  They will get you ready and it is NOT a race (I’m proof of that!) but it is a journey and one that will change the way you see the world.

The Day After

So yesterday was World AIDS Day, the day of the year that we are all united in remembering the precious lives lost to AIDS. It's a sobering day and an important one. However, we can't stay there.

Today is the day after. It is time to allow the memories and reflections of yesterday fuel us into the future. It is time to turn our sadness into resolve - into determination - that we will not stop fighting this awful disease. It is time to band together - to get on our bikes - put on our walking shoes - save some extra dollars so we can help provide the funding needed - and make a difference. We all know that eventually we leave this earth, but we also know that everyone deserves to do so with dignity. However, as long as we have AIDS and stigma, the dignity is often not always felt. As we would say where I come from: "that ain't right."

So let's take those candle flames from last night, those memories from yesterday and go forth to keep on making a difference. It doesn't take a lot from any one person to be effective. In fact, it is more effective when everyone does a little. (Yes, $25 is huge when we are all in) We really are all in this together and like it or not, as long as one person has HIV or AIDS, we all do.

It's the day after - time for all of us to be POSITIVE - and make a positive difference. From the song that went through my mind in the last mile of 2012 - Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now. AIDS will lose this fight - as long as we don't stop.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBoQvhzeeCY

In the Tension of Hope and Heartache

Today has been a bittersweet day. Of all of the days of the year that I really want to ride my bike, World AIDS Day, I'm still suffering from the crazy sickness that has nailed me to the bed and slowed me down all week. Carol is struggling with her mother's health and when I asked what I can do to help her the most, she said "just get well - I need you." I've never been one that liked to sit on the sidelines, helpless to play - but today I've had to do that very thing. It really stinks. I've spent time today quietly in bed or in my favorite chair reading the various Facebook posts about World AIDS Day, begging for funding support for my rides, and reading more of "And the Band Played On: Politics, People and the AIDS Epidemic". The pain of loss is so deep for so many and I realize how helpless I feel.

One friend posted a litany from the Phillips Theological Seminary about World AIDS Day. To share a bit of these words: "We gather to honor and remember. We look to history for a legacy of hope. We do not enter into this work alone. Many have come before us. We rely on them to guide our spirits and actions, our words and tasks, as we live in the tension of hope and heartache." I was struck by the words "in the tension of hope and heartache" because that's where I find myself today. If you find yourself in a similar space, perhaps the following litany end will help you as well. It is so important that, on this day, we say their names. They deserve that from us - just a pause, a reflection of their special character, and how we have been changed for good because of each one.

Again from Phillips Theological Seminary: "We remember men, women and children everywhere who are victims of discrimination because of AIDS; those who have fought for justice, equality, and dignity; and all who have gone before us into the everlasting embrace of God. We honor courageous women and men who continue to fight the good fight against AIDS; speak now, name them, proclaim with voice and spirit, others who may not be among us. Their voices have moved us forward.

[[Naming of names]] With inspired hearts, we seek to be…

People who learn from legacy, who inherit strength and bestow it upon others, and live lives of persevering hope. Amen.

To the World, I say on this day: Get well soon.

http://ptstulsa.edu/PrayersandMore?nid=101505

18 Years and Miracles

The following words are from a new and dear friend I met on the Charity Treks ride, an August family that rides for funding and awareness for an AIDS vaccine: 

It’s December 1st and World AIDS Day. I can not help but be thoughtful as I wake up to the posts on Facebook with banners and ribbons. If you know me, you know that just a few weeks ago I traveled to California to watch my youngest daughter, Megan, get married. And in April, she will have my first grandchild, a girl. This makes me also think of them.
 
Megan was barely a year old herself when I got the first test telling me I had HIV. Back then, having HIV was very nearly a death sentence. I can remember holding Megan back then, so small and dependent on her mother and I, so beautiful and perfect, and wondering how long I would get to hold her. Would I see her walk? Is it possible I could live long enough to wait up for her on her first date? See her in a prom dress? Go to her wedding?
 
For nearly eighteen years I have lived with HIV. I have had good years and bad year; been treated with love and support and with fear and anger. I have shared laughter and tears. I have found that a purpose with those who understand the need. I have seen my daughters graduate, one get married and will see my first grandchild, a girl, in April. I have survived and found the most incredible group of people in my August Family of Riders.
 
I have so much to be thankful for, but AIDS is not over.

- More than 34 million people now live with HIV/AIDS.
- 3.3 million of them are under the age of 15.
- In 2011, an estimated 2.5 million people were newly infected with HIV.
- 330,000 were under the age of 15.
- Every day nearly 7,000 people contract HIV—nearly 300 every hour.
- In 2011, 1.7 million people died from AIDS.
- 230,000 of them were under the age of 15.
- Since the beginning of the epidemic, more than 60 million people have contracted HIV and nearly 30 million have died of HIV-related causes.

On this day of remembrance, I ask you to go to charitytreks.org. Register to ride and to crew. Donate to the ride in support of those you love, those you have lost and in support of a cure.
I needed Charity Treks and my August family because I needed hope.  Emory and UCLA need the funding they receive from us to find a vaccine.
 
And it is people like all of you who Ride and Crew and Fundraise for Charity Treks, who have gotten so many of us this far. You rode to raise awareness. In other rides you rode to fund research into treatments and new drugs. You rode because of the people you knew who had HIV and in honor of those you had lost. You rode because you knew you were needed.
 
We need you still.

Search for 1000 Stories

Story Search - OK, I know I'm about to ask for a LOT as this will take a ton of courage from some of you. But I need your help and I need your stories. If you are HIV positive, love/loved an HIV/AIDS victim, cared for an HIV/AIDS patient, have/had a friend with HIV/AIDS, struggled with the topic, etc (you get the picture) and would be willing to anonymously share your story, please send me your story via Facebook email or to belva.white@comcast.net.

What message have you always wanted to share but haven't been able to? Where have you found hope, inspiration, despair or discouragement? If you feel led to help me and others learn more about HIV/AIDS from the view of someone who deals with it daily, it will make a huge difference in addressing the stigma associated with HIV/AIDS.

I will protect your privacy as desired (or write it in third person) and you will change hearts, I promise, in 2013. Sharing your story will make it easier for others to talk about it - a big step in making a real difference. I'll be compiling the stories for sharing in 2013. I know I'm asking for a lot, but we can only beat this together.

 When we have 1,000 stories to support and inspire others to put stigma aside, hopefully this blog will become a book and your words will be exactly what someone else needed to hear.

The HIV Minister

" . . . I say he died from shame and stigma."

Part of the reason we need AIDS walks and AIDS rides is because every conversation we have with those who witness us will chip a little more of the stigma away. Everyone still has to make a decision of which side of stigma they choose to be on - but as walkers, riders and volunteers - we gently say that we choose to be on the side of love. With every pedal turn, we say that no one should die from shame and stigma. No one.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPLslFRaX1w

Are You Human?

It's kind of hard to believe that 30 years ago, I was so into politics. I even considered a political career, which is hard to imagine today. It is very likely that 20 years ago this month, I watched and heard this speech given by Mary Fisher to the Republican Convention - but if so, I had forgotten it. Or - maybe a seed was planted at that time that just recently received the nutrients of love and encouragement needed to really hear it. Whatever the case and irrespective of our political positions, these words need to be heard today.

In the words of Mary Fisher: The AIDS virus "does not care whether you are Democrat or Republican. It does not ask whether you are black or white, male or female, gay or straight, young or old... HIV asks only one thing of those it attacks: Are you human?"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TEPamnaEIjs&feature=related

Why I Ride - A Reminder

Belva,

I would like to thank you for the beautiful song you sent the group this morning. I was very touched and felt well accepted. I want to thank you for so many things, but most of all for hearing a call that is coming from deep down inside of you to help those who are without hope. When you ride, you are a beacon of hope, which lets us know a cure is coming. You know people with HIV/AIDS and there are people you haven't met yet. Regardless, you ride with conviction and it is truly inspiring. You are my hero. All of you that ride are my heroes.

Before I moved to Georgia, I lived in Arizona, and to find assistance for my meds was disheartening. I applied for the ADAP program, which will allow you to receive HIVmeds free, but I was turned down every time I applied. My counts started pl

ummeting, but just like you Belva, I kept showing up. I refused to let people determine that I was a nobody and my life was not worth it. I knew I was worth it, so I kept showing up. I lasted 3 years before they decided I wasn't going anywhere quick, so they gave me meds. When they finally decided to give me the meds, my counts were 10. Thank God, I have never suffered a heart attack or stroke. After the medicine began to work, and my counts started moving up, I moved to Georgia shortly after that, and for me, there was no waiting period. I am happy to say I am way above normal counts and finally living. I have been so inspired by everyone that rides, I have purchased a Fuji Newest 4.0 Road Bike, and I have lost 5 lbs since I have started riding it. My goal is to be 170lbs, or lower, by the time I ride next year in the AV200!

I want to give you a song from my Mexican heritage. We sing this song to each other on our birthdays, but we also use it for anniversaries, funerals, or to congratulate someone on an accomplishment. This song is for you, Belva, and the many others who have ridden their bikes to help us find a cure. You have accomplished a lot this year, and I hope you know how special you are to everyone. Every time we read your blog on where you were on biking, we felt like we were hearing it on the radio in the 1930's. We were anxiously waiting every update, and we celebrated when you crossed the finish line. Y'all are amazing. The song is called " Las Mañanitas" and I found one with the English lyrics on it as well. Thank you for all you do for everyone, Belva. I will write more later.

Ray
http://youtu.be/BL_cDdLwV9c
Ray

Fling the Church Doors Open

One of the sadder parts of my journey has been the realization of how much the Church has hurt so many by creating a perception that some people are outcasts and are not welcome unless they change. I have seen the looks of concern from some as I sported my Saint Mark team jersey. On the days I wear it, I purposefully try to be extra kind, because I realize I have a different role on those days. The link below is a beautiful song - please ignore the article as I don't want politics to get into this site. This site is about love and welcoming - not about politics. This song is for all of the people who have given up on Church. My plea - please don't.

"O, may our hearts and minds be opened,

fling the church doors open wide.
May there be room enough for everyone inside.
For in God there is a welcome,
in God we all belong;
may that welcome be our song."

http://www.advocate.com/politics/religion/2012/08/17/watch-church-sends-message-acceptance-minnesota-through-song

Angels on the Journey

I'm back home in Decatur tonight. I'm tired, sore and filled with mixed emotions. As most of you know, we hit the 1,000 miles for AIDS goal on Thursday as I rode with Charity Treks riders supporting AIDS vaccine research at Emory and UCLA. After I hit the 1,000 mile mark, a few riders asked me if I was going to SAG (basically, ride in a car) the rest of the way to Portland. I said, "No, because we don't have a vaccine yet." But perhaps it is important to pause and reflect on this journey together and where we go next.

The miles have been full of angels. I won't repeat the stories of the AV200 or AIDS LifeCycle since you've already heard those. This last leg from Burlington, Vermont to Portland, Maine was full of angels, too. On Thursday, the day of the 1,000

milestone, 3 riders waited for me to reach the 71+ mile mark and took the picture Stephen posted. At the next rest stop, a large group of riders stood and clapped as I approached. I was overwhelmed. For them to stop their journey to celebrate mine was so touching and I realized - we're all on different but yet the same journey. We're all angels to each other whether we realize it or not. I felt very loved and yet didn't even know some of their names.

In terms of what's next, I will keep pedaling and sharing stories. I hope more of you will give me a story to share as the more we talk about HIV/AIDS, the easier we will make it for others.

It is really important to me that the celebrations of this milestone not lose focus on the true heroes - the caregivers, those with HIV/AIDS, the doctors who care for HIV/AIDS patients, the researchers, and the people you know who aren't afraid to hug a person with HIV/AIDS. So if you'd really like to honor this milestone, send a note or make a phone call to one of those people you know and encourage them. THAT makes every mile worth it to me!

Thanks to my heroes . . . you are so special and you inspire me.

Charity Treks 2012 - Day 2

Today's ride was more challenging with 98 miles and some climbs that made me say bad words. So we are now at 869 miles in this journey. THAT makes me say Woo-Hoo!

We have a couple of mascots with us this week. One is Daisy, who you see in the pic looking through the back window of a crew truck. Daisy has 3 legs and is a sweetheart. Essie is a white lab who is always looking for food. Today at lunch we noticed she was missing. She was happily checking out a greenhouse 20 feet away.

The other picture is from Green Mountain which is where a lot of our riding was today. I doubt the picture gives it justice but maybe you'll get an idea.

Some of you may wonder what in the world I think about while I'm on the bike for all the hours. So here's a few examples:
- I completed my research study on the smell of cow manure in Vermont vs Georgia. I hate to say this, but the Vermont cows have a much more agreeable smell
- After going through a couple of rest-stops without restroom facilities, I came to appreciate the AIDS LifeCycle porta-potties much more. This led to me noticing the many interesting places where porta-potties can be found in Vermont. I'm thinking my next FB page will be a place we can post pictures of porta-potties in odd locations.
- I thought about how interesting some multi-use churches were. A few double as city hall and church.

I also get plenty of time for thing of the reasons for the ride and for my 14 honorees. My discomfort is nothing compared to theirs.

Tomorrow's another day! Hope everyone back home enjoys a good one!

Until a cure . . .

Charity Treks 2012 - Day 1

Day 1 was long but not a killer. Your good vibes must have kept my legs going so send more tomorrow. Today's mileage was 110.4 so that brings us to 770.6 on the journey. I think tomorrow is another 100 miles.

Thanks for your support - it's Advil time!!

Love you all,
Belva

New England Arrival

Day 0 is on! I put Jamie back together but had to make a trip to the bike doctors as she couldn't change gears - the dreaded but common bent derailleur issue. Luckily, the bike shop was able to fix it and she's ready to go.

Our ride jerseys are awesome - on the back it says "Ride Because - Zambia, Zimbabwe, Namibia, Botswana, Lesotho, South Africa and Swaziland". It's a good reminder of the global reach that Team Saint Mark is supporting via an AIDS vaccine.

The other jersey is a Burlington reminder with a cool barn. And check out my new socks!! As my friends know, I always try to find cool socks so the shark and fin fits me perfectly.

The group, like the AV200 and the ALC rides, wants to be part of a family. They call this their August family. I'm glad to be a part of it and hope some of my Saint Mark family will join next year. There's no doubt that this cause is one that really creates an emotional bond and the researchers we are trying to help feel that as well.

Off we go! The odometer starts at 660.2 miles!

Just Show UP

In one more week, I will fly to Burlington, VT to start the last leg of my 2012 journey for AIDS. It's hard to believe it's finally time and I'm looking forward to having a week to cycle through the beautiful New England states. The group will be much smaller than in California - maybe 80 compared to 2,250 riders, but the impact will still be there. I look forward to meeting new friends who share my passion for finding an AIDS vaccine. But the realist in me recognizes that my conditioning is nowhere near where it was when I left for California and I'm going to have to manage that in order to make it 415 miles.

Last week, I wrote about caregivers - those brave and loving souls who take those long journeys through both darkness and light - simply because they truly care an

d love someone. Some of you have been in that role and some of you, like me, may wonder how you'd do if ever faced with that challenge. One priceless piece of advice I have been taught by Carol is to "just show up" and I have grown to realize how important that is.

Last week was a difficult week. On Wednesday morning, I received an email from one of my favorite colleagues saying he was leaving Emory because he has been given 18-20 months to live. I have watched the beautiful witness of Troy Evans take care of his dying and our beloved Saint Mark family member, Carlos Dixon, walk that final hospice journey. On Friday evening, I learned another friend has stage 3 cancer. This week I have gasped for air, felt tears and gotten totally ticked off from witnessing all this.

I'm not ready for any of this. My body is not really ready to ride 415 miles. My heart is not ready to watch 2 friends take the final journey on earth. My head is not willing to accept yet that I have a good friend with stage 3 cancer and now fighting to live. But there's one part of me - my spirit - that I can always count on. In that space, I'm not alone. I am connected to you - who have and will encourage me. I'm connected to my God who loves me no matter what. And from my faith, I'm connected with the "Communion of Saints" of those who have already moved on from earth - Samuel, Clay, Scott, Mike, Ben, Marcus, Rob, Ron, Tim, David, Davin, Marc, Stan, Rod, Gray, Rick, Forrey, Dr Franke. 

So while there's a part of me that would like to run away from all of this, there's a bigger part of me that says "Just show up." And I will. Whatever it is that you may be dealing with today - I hope you will, too.

Off to pack!

Caregivers

Last week, I sent out a panic email to some cycling friends - admitting that I'm really worried that I'm nowhere near ready for the 415 miles from Vermont to Maine. So this morning, Todd Fuller, Stephen Frangis, Leon Morales and I headed to the big hills of Georgia to work on our climbing skills. I have to say this was one of the most enjoyable rides I've done in a while. To cap off the day we enjoyed what I love so much about cycling - the good food, beer and conversations that follow a great day of riding.

One topic that came up today was a question about what I missed about the AIDS LifeCycle ride. It wasn't something I realized during the ride as only time away from the event brought it to life. It was a week of people being nice to each other. The organizers did a

remarkable job of bringing 2200 riders and 400+ volunteers from all over the nation, from all over the world - each with different cultural foundations, religious views, democrat, republican, gay, straight, young, young at heart, and the list goes on and on. Within 2 days, we were a community and we knew it. So what did they do to make this week something I'm counting down the days to go back? They asked us to be nice to each other and care for each other - and we did.

For the last week, I've been thinking a lot about the caregivers of the AIDS victims we have gotten to know since May. They lingered in my mind today as I sucked out the oxygen of North Georgia while I climbed and gasped for more. Oh, the mountains - the relentless challenges - they endured for their loved one.

My three cycling pals today were my caregivers - they gave me a whole day of their weekend, they didn't leave me in the dust (which they could have!) to be sure I was safe and they encouraged me for the final 415 mile venture of 2012. I have enjoyed a wonderful day of kindness and support - making it extraordinary.

To the beautiful caregivers who live behind the stories we have heard - please feel a big Facebook hug. You climbed, you didn't quit and you endured to the end. You were everything to someone and you are extraordinary. So for each of those times I look up from the bottom of an overwhelming climb - I will think of you and be inspired by you.

The Many Faces of HIV/AIDS

I was part of an Art Project called "The Many Faces of HIV / AIDS." It was created for people who feared the disease and those who were positive. The whole idea was to create a plaster face of a person who was positive. Then, during the art show, patrons were asked to feel the masks and read the bios of the faces on the wall. This was to get them used to touching someone with HIV/AIDS. You wouldn't get the disease from touching a plaster face, so if you applied it in real life, it would be the same concept. I feel people in the world need a chance to show their compassion for one another. This project was supposed to travel, but was dropped, and now the masks sit in storage in Arizona. I am looking to start this project again, and making it go. If anyone would like to help me, please contact me.
Always
Ray V.

Like a sumo wrestler on a pogo stick . . .

There are a least a few nuggets of wisdom my parents shared with me when I was younger that continue to influence me today. One nugget for me was “Education is the one and only thing that no one can ever take away from you.” If you walk into my office at Emory today, you won’t be able to look at me without seeing a picture behind me that reads “Millions watched the apple fall, but Newton asked ‘why’.” So, it’s no surprise to me and those who know me best that learning all I can about HIV/AIDS has been a big piece of this journey. Being a life-long Southerner from South Carolina and Georgia - with no deep desire to live elsewhere, I’m especially concerned about how HIV/AIDS seems to be thriving here.

I learned about an interactive HIV/AI

DS map by reading various articles on the Emory website. Showing my own stereotypical tendencies, I expected to see a big concentration in California. Instead, the Bible-belt and my beloved South jumped out like a sumo wrestler on a pogo stick. I continued to drill into this and learned that my home states of Georgia and South Carolina are on the CDC “hot list” due to the rise of new cases. In case you are curious about your area, I’ve posted some docs you can take a look at or the interactive map on-line can be found at http://www.aidsvu.org/map

During my formative college years, we watched the Challenger explode and the AIDS epidemic implode. Later, during my orientation session for the Emory Executive MBA program, we discussed a case study in which decision makers received data and risk points in the midst of pressure to move forward in spite of the data. Not knowing the full story, our class overwhelmingly said we should move forward because the data wasn’t strong enough to outweigh the pressure. Our professor then went to the next slide – showing the Challenger explosion – and said, “Well, you just killed people.” With that lesson, we were ready to learn. Equally, the advances made in managing HIV has a down side as our youth don’t see this as a threat. The result – rates are increasing and history is repeating itself.

Yes, my parents were right – education is the one thing no one can take away from us. The only thing I would add is that it doesn’t do a lot of good if it doesn’t drive action. By participating in the AIDS LifeCycle ride, it really isn’t a surprise that California did not make the top 10 list with us – they are taking this issue head-on and dealing with it.

Please help spread the word and change the map color of the South. We are all human and we are all a part of the future.

Map | AIDSVu.org

www.aidsvu.org

AIDSVu is an interactive online map depicting the HIV epidemic in the U.S.

The Rev. Dr. Robert Franke

This journey has been so touched by stigma - selective ignorance (per Jill below) - opportunities for education - and surprises.

The story I share tonight was surprising to me because it is fairly recent and a reminder of how far we've come - but yet still have to go - in the education area. The Rev. Dr. Robert Franke, a retired Central Michigan University provost and Unitarian-Universalist minister was evicted from an assisted living facility because he had HIV. His lawsuit was settled in September 2010. Yes, this happened just 2 years ago. Dr. Franke was a teacher - and still is, even though he died on December 26, 2011, a little after a year following his fight for other seniors with HIV.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HcdAYL_01Qk

Jarvis

Since I skipped church this morning to ramble down GA400, I figured I best spend a little bit of the time in reflection. Sometimes the topic of the day comes so quickly that I can almost hear God saying "I thought you'd never ask." Today Jarvis filled my heart and mind, as well as his niece - who has had a huge impact on my desire to raise awareness. I'll call his niece "Jill" for the purpose of this sharing.

Jill and I met at Emory and met for lunch so she could share her story with me. She told me about her uncle, who she adored but had not really talked with him about his HIV-positive status. She described Jarvis as someone who has never felt true love but enjoys Luther Vandross and believed God put angels on earth. This 1000 mile journey idea tweaked curiosity within her - and here's where her journey took her, in Jill's words:

"I've started this email a million times since the AIDS awareness program at St. Mark. I was really impressed by the wealth of knowledge at the meeting from both the presenter as well as some audience members. However, what the doctor who was sitting at the back table said (I’m sorry, I didn't get her name) left an indelible impression upon me. She gave a very accurate account of the mis-education, ignorance and the stigmatization that surrounds HIV/AIDS and its many victims in the African American community.

When I left the program that night I called my uncle Jarvis to tell him about it. He was impressed and happy to hear about people who are actively trying to make a difference in the lives of the suffering and in the lives of the ones who are destined to suffer from this disease, and I'm not just speaking about HIV/AIDS. I'm also talking about the disease of selective ignorance. On that night I learned just how much I subscribed to this human failing. I don't mind telling you that I have never felt more saddened and ashamed in my life. My uncle told me things that night that he has never told me and has yet to tell many in our family, although I'm quite sure my grandmother, mother and aunts must have figured out more than the little bit he has told them.

My uncle told me that he was glad that I am actively seeking knowledge about his illness instead of continuing to hide my head in the sand as I had been doing. You see, in my family, even though we knew my uncle was sick we didn't overly dwell on his illness. We pretty much acted as well as treated him as if what he had was a little more than a common cold. To us, it was an illness we knew would never go away. But it was one that, until we were forced to, we really didn't have to "deal with". To us, it was more of a mind over matter kind of thing and we really didn't talk about it too much and we didn't want to know all of the bad things that possibly lay ahead for my uncle (selective ignorance). My uncle knew that this was our way of "coping" so he didn't intrude. He also didn't bother to be totally honest with us and he didn't bother to share himself with us. He kept a lot of things to himself and only told us what he thought we could handle. It broke my heart to hear him tell me this and it devastated me to know that it is true. That night, my uncle said to me"now that you truly want to know and seem to be more concerned about what I'm going through I can be honest with you". He told me that he contracted HIV in 1994 and that he has been living with full-blown AIDS for the last four months. He only told us about it five years ago and led us to believe that that was when he contracted HIV. He said he never told us about what was really going on with him because he knew that we really didn't want to know. As a testament to this statement, he told me that he has been in and out of the hospital with various ailments from renal failure to heart problems and no one besides my grandparents, aunts and mother knew about it. At my uncle's request, they kept it to themselves. He also said they never asked him anything beyond the basics of what was going on with him health wise. He said that they just tell him that "everything is going to be alright and God will pull him through".

I knew that some days he wouldn't be feeling well but I had no idea of just how bad it was. When I would call to talk with him my grandparents would just tell me "today is not one of his good days" and wouldn't give him the phone. I am so sorry but I had no idea. My uncle told me that he is facing his mortality and that he is ready. He told me that he is preparing so that my grandparents will be okay. I absolutely hated having this conversation with my uncle but I hate even more the many conversations I would not allow him to have with me before. This is truly devastating.

I don't know if any of this is what you were looking for in the way of stories of how HIV/AIDS is affecting lives. But I can tell you that my brief interaction with you has changed mine. Thanks for helping to facilitate the open communication I was able to have with my uncle before it was too late. I don't know how much time we have left with him but I thank God that the time will be quality."

To Jill, I would say "Because of you, Jarvis has felt true love now." God bless you both.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xm4wAmsGyN0

One Little Sentence

Today I struggled with all of the logistics for the New England ride, which will begin in 34 days. So, I'm official now with the flight to Burlington and from Portland booked, the pre and post ride hotel reservations booked and the necessary "oh my gosh, I'm out of shape now" anxiety meltdown completed. Then I made a phone call to the ride director today and he told me, "It's hot here in August - usually 80 degrees and sometimes 90!" I cracked up laughing - and suddenly felt ready to get down to the business of training. I can't WAIT to ride in that cool weather after our 100+ days!!

It's amazing how one innocent sentence can change someone's perspective.

At 6am tomorrow, I'll be joining some of my Saint Mark cycling pals on GA400 for the Hospitality Highway ride. It's time to get serious again!

It Takes A Lot!

Many of you have asked what it took to get 2200 cyclists from SF to LA. Well, a lot. Here's a few stats for those who are interested:
Eggs = 44,600
Pounds of pasta = 1,200
Gallons of water = 18,800
Packets of "butt balm" = 18,000

Portable toilets = 1,055 (and I don't miss a single one of them!!)

Participant stats:
Oldest participant = 83
Youngest participant = 18
Number of states represented = 44
Number of countries represented = 16
Average calories burned daily by each participant = 3,410
Funds raised = $13 million
Volunteers = about 600

And I can't wait for next year! (Except for the porta-potties). If any of you want to ride or serve as a volunteer, I can help you get connected - except I can't get you excused from the porta-potties - sorry. I wonder if you can get PTSD from a week of porta-potties?

The Meaning of a Dash

This has been an interesting, rest-filled week of recovery from cycling. For the first time in the last couple of months, I slept until I woke up without an alarm - unless, you count the crash landing Punkey made in the bed as she bounced against me. It was back to the office and a couple of 14 hour days to catch up and realizing I might not ever achieve that. Some of my cycling pals from Saint Mark got together Thursday and humored me with time to share this experience with them. And last night, Carol and I reunited with old friends, Millie and Jean, and went to The Normal Heart at Saint Mark. As I stood reading the names of Saint Mark members we have lost to AIDS, tears streamed down my face and I turned to Carol and said "You have to support me. I HAVE to pedal."

For years - literally years - I have prayed, wrestled with, and with frustration tried to figure out what my purpose is. The only thing I knew for sure is that I don't want to leave this world being remembered as a hard worker and good accountant. I kept asking, what will the dash on my tombstone represent - as the birth year and death year are simply a day in time, but the "dash" represents a life lived. What I didn't know, until now, is that during all those years of questioning, I was being prepared for this journey. Perhaps my first step, over 8 years ago, was landing at both Saint Mark and Emory. Then my close friend and colleague, David Hanson, asked me to ride just 35 miles in the AV200. I told him he was crazy and I didn't even own a bike. Then I joined the Athletic Club Northeast and got into spin class. Then I asked David to take me bike shopping. And now, here I am.

AIDS has robbed my generation of millions. At a time when we are now assuming the leadership reigns of the country and global community, we do so without the creativity, the imagination, the ideas, the solutions, of 38 million people born within 10-15 years of my birth year and many of those are your friends. Their "dash" wasn't nearly long enough. We will never know who different the world might have been if we could have been blessed with their influence. We have all been robbed.

To many, this journey seems crazy. I receive the warnings of burn-out, of the toll on my body and the toll on my time with openness. You are right - this is hard. Sitting on a skinny bike seat for hours, day after day, is not always fun. Training can be lonely and other life commitments don't go away - nor should they. Perhaps that's why God gave me some really important gifts - tons of energy and passion and a good support network around me from friends, to colleagues, to bosses, to doctors, to therapists - and I'm not afraid to call on them or any of you! Your willingness to follow these posts and drop me notes of encouragement is a big fuel source for me. Thank you!

Seeing The Normal Heart last night was so moving. As I mentioned in an earlier post, these wonderful performers took on a tough, personal topic and transformed it to touch our hearts. I cannot imagine how challenging this was for them and it is difficult to relay my level of appreciation to them for taking this on. A friend involved in the play wrote to me and shared this: "One thing strikes each time: though set in the early 80s in the beginning of the AIDS epidemic when no one knew just what this "plague" was, it is still so relevant. The American philosopher Santayana famously said that "those who do not understand the past are condemned to repeat it." And I think how in the U.S. the current greatest increase in infections is among the young. And across the world how many families continue to be devastated by this disease (and children orphaned)."

Yes, I HAVE to pedal. It's the one small thing I can do. Thanks to each of you for pedaling with me - either virtually or actually on the road. There's always room for more.

Ray and Frank

After a week of enjoying the beauty of Yellowstone, my thoughts return to our family and friends we have lost to AIDS. To be honest, it is much easier to sip in the majesty of nature than to contemplate the fight against HIV/AIDS - but we must.

One of my sponsors, who has cared for many HIV patients, shared with me the loss of two friends, who I'll call Ray and Frank. Here's what she shared: "Ray" was a wonderful person and partner and instructor. He danced ballet in NY, San Fran, PHL and Europe. He was funny, expressive and never complained if I gained 5 pounds!! He smoked too much and could not understand why I didn't smoke to help control my weight. "Ray" LOVED dogs, large birds and any animal that crossed his path. I still think of him and tear up-- "Frank" was "Ray's" soul mate!

They taught together,played together, cried together. I still remember when "Frank" developed a "flu-like" illness- " If I am positive I will kill myself!!"" Ray was the one who had the disease initially. He had not been tested for years-then transmitted the HIV to Frank. The next step of course was keeping everything under wraps!! In the late 1980's-- many people felt all homosexuals were pediophiles-- that as you know is not true. Until Ray became seriously ill both of them were able to do what they loved-- teach!! and dance!! For each of them please attack a small piece of dental floss to their ribbons-- Ray taught me to sew my point shoe ribbons with the floss so they did not break--Matter of fact- almost every time I floss my teeth I think of them!!-- Unfortnately I have many patients to remember as time goes on-- but these men were my friends!! The old delta 35.

As I reflect on Frank and Ray and their love for performing arts, I realize it will be six weeks before I hit the road again on my bike. However, Saint Mark has a drama production this weekend that Carol and I are going to on Friday night. It's called "The Normal Heart" and I hear it is a tissue turner. Some things in life are so easy to see - like the majesty of the Grand Tetons. Other things are hard to see - as I'm sure my friend would say about watching Frank and Ray slip away from her. "The Normal Heart" may challenge my tough tear ducts - but I'm thankful we have special drama performers to help all of us remember - this is real.

I hope to see some of you at Saint Mark's "The Normal Heart" . . . I continue to be amazed at everything that keeps popping in my path on this journey. Yes, this is indeed real.

Doris Day

One of the inspiring messages we received during the ride. This was received and shared the evening of the beach candlelight vigil - a night where hundreds of cyclists marched in the darkness with a lit candle and sat quietly on the beach to reflect on why we ride. It was very moving and her message was a boost we all needed. A message from Doris Day (and yes, I remember her!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25SLFLe5upY

Dwayne Carl and My Friend, R

ALC Ride Reflection 1: Every morning and every evening of the ride provided educational stats and stories to stretch our minds. Stigma was a big topic. One story of a fellow rider took my original mission to a deeper level. His name is Dwayne Carl, 48, from Redondo Beach. During his 10 years with HIV, he has also had to deal with discrimination. Many of his friends and family members rejected him. He was fired because of his HIV positive status and had to fight eviction from his apartment. Dwayne went from an 8 T-cell count and neuropathy at the point of his diagnosis to riding along side of me for the long trek from SF to LA. He is also fighting the HIV stigma by self-publishing a book, Out of my Second Closet, about his experience.

Nelson Mandela lost his son to AIDS and encour

ages talking about HIV/AIDS so that "people will stop regarding it as something extraordinary." Interesting way to put it.

If you recall from my first posting, I initially started this because of a friend living with HIV in silence. I tried to think of the perfect day to ride for him. As I rode in the cold rain last Monday, with tiny water beads stinging my face and mud being splashed on me from the big trucks on the route - I knew that was the day for my friend "R". This was the only day I worried about my safety - as I wondered if the raging big rigs next to me could even see me.

If the positive example that each of us can achieve (I've seen it so I know it can) - can allow my friend and others be able to say "I am HIV positive" in a world that WE have made safe for this courage, then we will be opening a lot of second closets and encouraging many to get the help they need. So my ongoing reflection for my future will be something like "How safe is my world for others?". I pray I will recognize when I become a big rig splashing mud and slow down to allow someone to feel safe and cared for in their battle with HIV.

As far as stigma - God help us. No one should have to hide their HIV status, but I realize from a practical sense that, yes, today most still do.

To my Monday honoree, R, I hope you felt the warmth of the garbage bags and mylar in the midst of the cold.

AIDS LifeCycle 2012 - Finish Line!

I made it! So we are 660.2 miles complete on this journey. In mid-August, I'll be back on the AIDS vaccine track with a ride from Burlington, VT to Portland, Maine. This has been an important week in many ways and if you're willing to keep tracking, I'll keep sharing. For tonight, I am simply thankful for good health and will never take this for granted again. I'm also thankful for electricity that refuels my crackberry and a nice soft bed with no spiders and a ceiling that doesn't puff up with every wind. I missed my Saint Mark Cycling friends terribly on the long roads but training with them really got me through these miles. I am thankful for your prayers of safety as not everyone on the ride survived without a broken bone or two. I'm just tired but will bounce back quickly, I'm sure. It will be nice not to sit on a saddle for a few days!

Our work is not done - we are just getting cranked up. But together, we will make a difference.

When I get home, I'll start sharing some of these experiences with hopes they keep us moving for the people who are counting on us. Every day was special as I was able to reflect on the stories you have shared. For those special lives, we can't stop now!!
Peace and thanks to all!

My First Red Dress Day - AIDS LifeCycle

Thanks, everyone, for the warm wishes you've posted as they mean a lot and have really helped me today. I'm pretty beat but will keep pedaling! Today, I am enjoying Red Dress Day. Some of us have been reflecting on how much creativity has been stolen from the world by AIDS. The community we've formed really is a glimpse of how wonderful the world could be - as we have left our social statuses, titles, ethnicities, sexual orientations, and all the other things that seem to drive politics today - they have all been overcome. We are just taking care of each other.

I have some interesting Red Dress Day photos - some of which I will share here later and others on the Cycling Club site :)

My favorite chuckle today came when a team of riders had a group member pull over. The others were asking "what's up?" - expecting to hear flat tire or something. The response: "I spilt Gatorade on my dress!"

So much to share and not nearly enough battery. Please pray for me tomorrow and Saturday. 80+ miles tomorrow on my sore "you know what" is not going to be pleasant. I'm thankful to have your stories and thoughts as well as the knowledge that Carol will be on a Delta flight to meet me at the finish line! 150 miles to LA!

Rod

Ride Day 4 - AIDS Lifecycle - June 4, 2012 - Dedicated to "Rod"

On June 4th, we will be riding from Santa Cruz to King City. This will be a long route day of 109.2 miles. This will be my longest stretch ever and will top the 107 miles on Day 1 of the AV200. I plan to ride for Rod on this day, and his sponsor is a dear friend from Saint Mark.

My friend's introduction to Rod: Rod was a long time neighbor and close friend when I lived in Virginia Highland. He lived for many years with HIV. He was the Personnel Director at an Atlanta hospital. He was probably the most talented person I have ever known. He was truly the Renaissance Man. He could cook, garden, decorate houses, play the piano, sing, arrange flowers, be a father, build things, had excellent taste in everything, host won

derful parties, was a good friend to many people, a good son and brother to his family. He and his partner moved to New York City where he renovated a beautiful home in the Hell's Kitchen neighborhood on West
46th Street. They were gracious hosts when friends and family visited NYC.
He was a soloist in churches and the Atlanta Gay Men's Chorus, he has a beautiful daughter, Rachel, and I'll never forget his Amaretto cheesecake. He was born in January 1950. He was 53, I think, when he died in NYC. He died much too
young. He will always be missed by many people. He would be a friend to you and you would love him as so many did. He lived his life to the fullest. Thanks for honoring him this way.

In all of these stories, it's always the little traits that we think aren't important that are remembered - meaning, of course, that our "little things" are huge. During this route, we will have a chance to stop by the Soledad Mission where we can reflect on The Ride’s purpose and sign their altar cloth. There's also something about a Cookie Lady - perhaps the closest I can get to amaretto cheesecake. Seems like a fitting date to raise a glass in honor of Rod. I hope maybe we all can share a meal with someone we admire on Monday - a community toast to Rod!

G.B.

Ride Day 3 - AIDS LifeCycle - June 3, 2012 - Dedicated to "GB"

Yes, I skipped Day 2 from last weekend and hope to bring you that one soon. Also, yes, I'm not there yet but since I'm not sure how much writing I'll be doing on the road although I will be thinking quite a bit. Next Sunday, we'll head out from the Cow Palace in San Franciso and travel 82.5 miles to Santa Cruz. It's going to be an exciting and fun day - full of sunshine - much like "G".

A close friend and colleague shared the following about GB:

"GB" was very creative. Any type of design, flower-arranging, interior and even art. He would take old wood, doors, planks and then layer paint on them in various designs. He loved cats! Was a great cook, the best chicken and dumplings I have ever had! He was super funny and simply full of life. Super neat and well-organized, I never open my Tupperware cabinet without thinking of him. He was at my house for a dinner and opened that cabinet. Once he saw that my lids were not aligned with the matching container, he dumped it all out and organized it for me. His closets were amazing! Works of art.

He died November 27 and it was not pretty. Three years ago, he moved out of Atlanta for a job that fell through pretty quickly. He stayed in Texas for a year with no health insurance and no meds. He moved back to Atlanta and AID Atlanta provided meds and his numbers improved, but unfortunately, it must have progressed too far for meds to help. It was really hard to watch him progressively disappear.

If G were riding with you or beside you, he would be saying “You Go, Girl!!” and probably singing something Madonna or Britney Spears. When my friend called to tell me that he had passed away, we were traveling on Thanksgiving weekend. I hung up the phone and the first song to come on was Elton John’s “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me”. First line, “I can’t light no more of your darkness”. He was a light, a full blown nut that would always cheer you up, so he would be a great cheerleader, making you laugh and push through.

From a personal note, perhaps G was speaking to all of us through Sir Elton. Since I'm a HUGE Elton fan, I had to pull the video myself to remind me of the words. He goes on to say "I'd allow just a fragment of your life to wander free . . . " and "Losing everything would be like the sun going down on me." This wonderful tribute from G's friend shows that the sun hasn't gone down yet - his torch of life still shines. So next Sunday, in the warmth of the California sun, I'll be "singing" my best version of this song.

We miss you, G . . . this sun's for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQfhQvj724g
Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me - Elton John
www.youtube.com
Don't let the sun go down on me by Elton John and Bernie Taupin

ALC Cheers - from Carol

Hooray for all of those who rode today and for all the volunteers who helped them. They raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for AIDS vaccine research and were remembering the ones who did not get it in time with every stroke of their pedals.

Hooray for those dedicated persons doing the research to find a cure. Their commitment and undaunted perseverence keeps hope alive.

And for those who have lost loved ones, lost their health, or live with fear about this disease, this effort is for you. Be of good courage and take heart.

AIDS Care - from a Chaplain

Tonight I'm missing Belva but so very proud of her and what she is doing. It certainly will be a significant lifetime event for her.

Back in the late 80's and early 90's when I was a hospital chaplain I ministered to a number of people dying from AIDS. One patient (I'll call him Dave) I especially remember at Crawford Long came in one night with a raging case of pneumocystis. He had just returned from a trip to Europe with his mother which both enjoyed immensely. It was immediately apparent that he was in critical condition. Dave had converted from HIV positive to full blown AIDS. In the hospital that night were his mother, younger brother, ex-wife, partner, friends from the hair salon where he worked, and a number of other family members and friends. They were all devastated. Some obviously did not know he was positive, others seemed to be finally grapling with the fact that he was gay. Among those gathered in their common concern some were strangers to each other. But they put aside whatever differences they may have had with each other and wept as they prayed for Dave. He was a young man in the prime of his life. It sounded like he had just begun to live. Dave died a few days later. AIDS deaths in those days were agony. Though I wasn't able to know Dave as I would have liked, I will neve forget him. In the end he was surrounded by love.

Saint Mark Remembers

I was touched to realize that some people have a calling in life that allows or requires (each persons choice of which!) them to be in the heart of the epidemic. One such person that I know is Beth La Rocca Pitts, Senior Pastor at Saint Mark - and the number of names she gave me made, from her life and from her Saint Mark history, me stop in my tracks. To give us a glimpse of these lives, Beth shared:

1 - Scott, my best friend from high school who died in 1991. He was survived by his parents and two siblings and three half siblings. He was 31. 2 - Mike, my high school youth director who died before Scott did but I can't remember the year. Mike was survived by his wife and two children. 3- Ben, the director of the Duke University Chorale wh

en I was in college. 4- Marcus, a friend from high school and church youth group who died sometime in the 80's. He was survived by his parents and sister. He was 30. 5- Rob and Ron, brothers who were friends of mine in high school.
They died in the 80's as well. They were 30 and 33. 6- Tim, a friend of my sister's from med school. 7- David, a friend of Scott's from the Names project staff.
These are the eight I remember from right at the beginning of the epidemic. All of them died for want of the protease inhibitors.

More recently, Tim, Mike, Davin, Marc, and Stan. All of these had AIDS, though Marc technically died of a coronary after a devastating bout of influenza. Davin got exhausted and stopped taking his antivirals. Stan developed liver cancer, Mike secumbed to kidney failure, and Tim had a massive cascade failure of all his systems.

While it is so easy to allow the pain of loss to make us close our hearts, Beth just seems to keep opening it up more. It's so easy to say - this is just too much - let's just focus on something else. But Beth keeps humor, acceptance and the purest form of love flowing. Thanks Beth, for living out my favorite Saint Francis of Assisi theme - Preach the gospel every day and, if you absolutely have to, use words. Beth really doesn't need words (even though she has them!).

Thanks, Saint Mark UMC, for truly having Open Hearts, Open Minds and Open Doors - and challenging me to have the same.

Clay

Ride Day 2 – AV200 - May 20, 2012 - dedicated to “Clay”:
I’ve dedicated this ride day #2 to Clay, who was the partner of a dear friend until he died in 1989. My friend shared the following with me and I now share with you:
“Clay” and I were together over 4 years back in the 80’s. He was 25 when I met him, over 10 years my junior, and one of the sweetest, cutest people around. He was full of fun and loved to laugh. He had boundless energy and played hard, worked hard, and loved hard. He had a hearty laugh that I will never forget along with a smile that would melt my heart. His favorite place in the whole world was Jekyll Island where his parents had a summer home. We used to go down there frequently, laughing, talking & joking the whole way. We would ride bicycles and those small moto

r bikes around the island, whatever was available. We played endless rounds of putt-putt golf. He loved to ride bikes….what a fitting tribute to him that you will be riding, having fun, and thinking of a wonderful person, lost too early in life. God will be looking down on you for what you are doing for humanity! Clay died of complications due to ARC….actually, he got pneumonia and his mother was a Christian Scientist and didn’t believe in doctors. Clay died in 1989 and is buried in a cemetery in Peachtree City, a place he always wanted to live. I was a pallbearer at his funeral, which was one of the hardest things I have ever done.

From a personal note, Clay’s story was painful to hear – not only because of HIV/AIDS but also because of the resistance to medical help. At first, it hit me that an AIDS vaccine, even if developed may not have helped Clay. But as I prayed for Clay and those who loved him during my ride back from Rock Eagle to Emory, I realized that a vaccine can be received a little more quietly – allowing those with HIV to make decisions about their future on their own – before a related illness kicks in. I imagined Clay riding with me on Sunday. There were times that I needed a buddy because I couldn’t keep up with anyone!!

I’m so glad I got to meet Clay through the eyes of someone who loved him so dearly and I wish I could have gone for a bike ride on Jekyll Island with him since, next to on a bike, I feel closest to God on the beach. I chose Ride Day 2 for Clay because I knew there would be a Riderless Bike Ceremony at the end – just for the bikers and just before our mass group ride to the Emory campus. For me on this day, Clay was the rider we were missing. We miss you, Clay – but we will win this battle for you.

Samuel

Ride Day 1 - AV200 - May 19, 2012 - Dedicated to Samuel

As I mentioned earlier, I have 14 days on the bike during this journey and have been honored to be introduced to 14 precious lives that we are all missing out on today. For the first day of the ride, Samuel was my new friend. It seemed appropriate because he was the partner of a close colleague of mine at Emory and his birthday would have been celebrated on May 20th - the following day. Samuel and I are both Taurus in terms of astrological categories if you're into that stuff. So I assume it would be good to have another "bull buddy" with me on the first day. Good thing, too!

Samuel's partner shared the following with me: Samuel passed away on January 15, 1996 from AIDS. He was my partner for nine years. H

e was an incredible giving person and left us too soon. Samuel was from Beirut, Lebanon, he left on vacation to London in the 70s and while he was there, war broke out and his father advised him to not come back. Samuel went on to earn a PhD in Microbiology from the University of Edinburgh and immigrated to the United States and work for CDC as a Scientist until he passed away. Samuel was a best friend to many, he would give you the shirt off his back. He was also a great cook and got great joy from having people over to our house for many great dinners. His mother taught him very well and he was a great cook of middle eastern foods. He was not your typical scientist, he enjoyed music and played the guitar, he was always very fashion forward. A trait of the Middle East, he was quick to give his opinion, even if you did not want to hear, but most times it was what needed to be said. His death was very hard on his mother who came to live with us the last 6 months of his life. I continue to be in contact with his family in Beirut, his mother passed away about two year ago. His sister lives in Beirut and his two nieces currently live in Dubai with their children.

From a personal note, I think we're all missing out. As I rode to Rock Eagle for the first 107 miles of the journey, I realized I was starving around mile 90 and had to imagine that we would have a meal prepared by Samuel when we finally arrived at camp. It gave me a chuckle as well as a realization - no, you won't - he's the reason you're doing this. So we stop missing out on getting to know the Samuel's of the world.

Happy Birthday, Samuel. You're legacy lives on and we will fight this battle for you.

14 Days and 14 Memorials

Journal Entry - May 8, 2012:
The first 200 miles of this journey will begin at Emory's School of Medicine in the AIDS Vaccine 200. I will ride with some new but dear friends with the Saint Mark Cycling Club. Life will be good.

The Emory Vaccine Center is working to find a vaccine for AIDS. I realize the importance of every dollar raised and am so blessed that in this crazy world, I have found wonderful supporters who have contributed almost $5000 to this cause. I have been overwhelmed by the generosity of my ride sponsors.

As I wrote yesterday, I started this journey knowing one HIV positive person. As I rolled through my sponsor list today, I realized that my journey has presented 14 memorial or "in honor of" names - and my rides cover 14 days - Atlanta (2), California (7) and New England (5). I will wear 14 ribbons with the names of each person on my ride. My next quest is to get to know the 14 loved ones - as they will inspire me and join me over the miles. I have asked the sponsors to tell me stories. My prayer now is that they will.

Called to Ride

Journal Entry - May 7, 2012:
When I first decided to ride 1000 miles for AIDS in 2012, I wasn't sure where the thought was coming from. I only knew it was a strong pull - a decisive draw - and one I could not say "no" to. I have always said I have more determination than I have good sense - but it has carried me pretty far in life so far, so I don't complain.

Last fall, I thought I knew one person who was HIV positive - a deep, dark secret carried by a dear friend. As I am one who tells the world when I have a mere cold, the thought of carrying HIV alone simply haunted me. Why? Why do we continue to create a world in which sickness causes scorn? Why - in a country based on religions of love - could we allow others to feel isolated? Why - in a world of diversity - do we fear or hate those

who think or love differently?

My journey began at a place I call home - Saint Mark UMC in Atlanta. In this home, we dare to think differently and to do differently. My second home is Emory. At Emory, we believe in courageous inquiry. We research, we teach, we serve, we strive to make the world at least a little better and healthier than it was when we arrived.

Sometimes it is so dis-heartening to step out of my cozy homes, where we are at ease with diversity and differences of opinion, to a world of angry passion. But it is time to trust that this crazy world can teach me something new while the foundations of home keep me centered on who I desire to be.