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!