A Renewed Sense of Urgency

Last night, a few Team Saint Mark Cycling teammates and I hosted a fundraiser benefit for our AIDS rides. As with any event like this, you have highs and lows, disappointments and positive shocks. Pulling the event together with my cycling friends was pretty easy - especially when you have it at a great restaurant like Wahoo Grill in Decatur and have absolutely amazing talent for the evening in Steff Mahan. She and the trio played their hearts out and blew us away in terms of enjoyment from the performance. The folks that came seemed to enjoy themselves and it was a great kick-off to Valentine's Week.

Those of you who know me well know that while I will get in front of a group of people and talk - it's not a place I really long to be. I prefer to write my thoughts in the spirit of being an off-the-charts introvert. But I did get on stage with Steff, per her challenge to the group to make some donations, and led the crowd in the one song I know - the Gilligan's Island theme song. Yes, I know all of the stanzas. It was fun and Steff somehow figured out how to play her guitar to my totally off-key solo and get the crowd singing the chorus parts with me. The event was full of my friends and friends of my friends - so with a glass of wine in me and a red boa around my neck and Steff beside me - we celebrated raising about $1000 for my cycling friends Stephen and Todd.

In the midst of the fun and showing videos and hearing testimonies from Stephen and Todd, a new friend quietly told me she was there because she lost her brother to AIDS. I'm embarrassed that I never know what to say when I hear those words. I try to blame my high introversion for my silence but you would think that after all I have written over the past year, I would know what to say. During my training spin class today, I thought about the conversation - or silence - or poor response. I don't know how she feels and always hate it when people respond to others in pain with "I know how you feel because I ...." There is no way to know how someone else feels regardless of your experience because everyone's internal filter is different and no two circumstances are exactly alike. Perhaps I should have just stopped with the first three words I said, which were "I'm so sorry" - because I am. I truly am.

My new friend's brother just missed the drug advancements with a cocktail formula by about a year and those new treatments could have extended his life. I wonder how many others were lost within that window. I wonder how many others will be lost in this current window of having AIDS vaccines in clinical trials but not quite there yet. What can I do that really matters? I'm definitely not a scientist. Heck, I picked the only major at Clemson that I could find which didn't require chemistry. I can cycle, though, even if I'm a bit slow. I can raise awareness. I can raise funding. I can tell a new friend - "let me dedicate a day on the bike to your brother" - and I will be doing that. I can sing the Gilligan's Island theme song before a group of people. I can swing my red feather boa as I sing.

To my new friend - thank you. Thank you for reminding me what this is all about. If we have lost a sense of urgency in finding a vaccine, his story challenges that thinking. His story reminds me - we cannot rest yet, we are not done. On the day I ride for your brother, maybe I'll attach a red boa to my helmet and sing a tune in his honor!