5,300 PMC riders raised a total of $35 Million in 2008. This brings the total amount raised by the PMC for the Dana Farber Cancer Institute to $239,000,000 since 1980. That is a huge amount of money for cancer care & research. It's nothing to scoff at - thats some serious money.
As you may know, Ken & I are expecting our first child in late April of 2009. You might think that we would take a year off from the PMC, but that's not our plan. We hope to once again do the one-day Wellesley to Wellesley route. However, we will NOT be doing it from our house. 112 miles some 3 months or so after giving birth will be a little over my head, I think. But, I'll need a goal, and a reason to get back on the bike and make it a priority to get back in shape. Training will be tricky, fundraising might be tricky (it's a time consuming process), and we'll have to beg for babysitting help during the event, but we've discussed it & we would really like to make the effort to contribute our PMC comittment.
One thing has become startlingly clear during this pregnancy process - you can't take life & health for granted. Since cancer runs in both of our families, growing a child has reinforced our sense of urgency to find a cure for this disease. We might not make our goals next year, but we have to at least try. You just never know what the future holds, but we can do what we can when we are able.
We hope you all have a happy and healthy holiday season and a wonderful 2009 - we're hoping it'll be a banner year for Team Iwamoto (soon to be 3!)
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
"Official Stats" from PMC Headquarters
This is an email I received just now.... Kind of a nice break down of PMC demographics, for those of you who have not yet dropped dead of statistical boredom. As you can see, I, as a woman who is now, finally, in my "30s" - I am in the minority in this group... 13 years younger than the average, and among the 37% minority.
Sturbridge Start: 2,837
Wellesley Start: 2,096
Sunday Wellesley: 304
Total Riding: 5,237
‘Virtual’ Cancels: 321
Total Registered: 5,558
2-day to P-town: 3,732
2-day to Wellesley: 214
1-day: 997
Sunday Ride: 304
Average age: 43
Male: 63%
Female: 37%
Sturbridge Start: 2,837
Wellesley Start: 2,096
Sunday Wellesley: 304
Total Riding: 5,237
‘Virtual’ Cancels: 321
Total Registered: 5,558
2-day to P-town: 3,732
2-day to Wellesley: 214
1-day: 997
Sunday Ride: 304
Average age: 43
Male: 63%
Female: 37%
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Stats! I forgot the Stats!
Now, I know that the stats are the ONLY reason some of you check this blog - and I completely forgot them. They're the most interesting part!
PMC - related miles for 2008: 940 miles
PMC - related miles for 2008: 940 miles
March: 61.1 miles
April: 115.8 miles
May: 71.6 miles (I had 3 rides in May. What was I doing instead of riding? I can't remember.)
June: 139.65 miles
July: 438.69 miles (more than the entire year put together up to that point)
PMC - related hours in the saddle: 68.05 hours (that's 4083 minutes of 'dear lord that hurts')
Vertical feet climbed in Prep for & including the PMC: 12,171 feet (I started tracking that in mid-April, so it's not all-inclusive). We don't have mountains that high around here. I can't imagine doing that in one day. I did do 509 feet in 18 miles this morning as a recovery ride, though, and it was easy.
PMC - related calories burned: 36,339 calories. Thats roughly 202 tall lattes. And I've stopped drinking lattes.
I also started tracking a new stat this year: Calories per mile. My theory on this is it's a very easy way to tell how efficient my body works, and I'd be able to see a trend over time (hopefully). It appears to be true. My average cal/mile for the months March through July are below:
March: 47 cal/mi
April: 50 cal/mi
May: 45 cal/mi
June: 38 cal/mi
July: 40 cal/mi
That all being said, the stats for our last 70-mile training ride (on The Cod):
4.95 hours; 2,624 calories burned; average speed 14 MPH; 37 calories/mile. Average heart rate was 149 beats per minute.
Stats for our 112 mile PMC ride:
7.17 hours; 2,405 calories burned; 15.65 MPH average speed; and 21 calories/mile. Yes, 21. My average heart rate was 142 beats per minute over the entire 112-mile ride.
Our PMC ride appeared to be easier than our last long ride. Our PMC ride took 2 hours longer, we rode 42 miles further and we went 1.65 MPH faster on average, yet I burned 16 fewer calories per mile. It just wasn't as hard. The question is, why?
I had complained about all the starting and stopping on the rail trail, which is likely one reason why - it takes a lot of energy to get up to "cruising speed", and it seemed like we were starting from dead stops every mile or so on the rail trail. Also, The Cod is a very windy place, which helps explain why wind turbines make so much sense down on The Cod. Both rides were relatively flat, and those are the two big differences that I can think of.
However, at about mile 83 or so during our PMC ride, I started to feel like a robot. I just biked (legs were going up, down, up, down... not in circles anymore), and didn't think about anything other than biking. If someone had been reading my mind it would have gone something like this: "pot hole....car back....branch.....hole left....pedal faster....shift up now...." there was none of the mind wandering I'm usually plagued with, like 'what is that guy DOING?' or 'what do we have for dinner, and is there any chance I can convince Ken to make me some brownies tonight?' I wasn't even day dreaming about getting OFF the bike and grabbing a beer. There wasn't a whole lot going on in there. I don't think we talked much.
If you are by any chance a Deadliest Catch addict, you may recall that Capt. Sig Hansen likes working his crew for days straight until they become robots (quoted on that page linked). There's no whining, no griping at the point - they just turn into these efficient little robots. Or zombies. Depends how you look at it.
So maybe a little after the 80 mile mark, I turned into a little biking robot. I was actually a little nervous of making a dumb mistake because I could feel the usual brain chatter fade away. I was afraid I'd space out and not hear a car coming, or not see an obstacle and nail it at 25 MPH. We took several little rest stops in the last 30 miles, which may have helped keep that from happening.
I am in no way comparing our ride to working on a crabbing boat in the Bering Sea with no sleep for days. Don't get me wrong. I'm just saying that maybe that robot-ability has its place, and perhaps that detached calmness & repetition is the bodies way of conserving energy while doing something that expends a lot of energy. A little like a working meditation. Even when I ran out of gears on the hills on the way home, my heart rate didn't climb above 150 beats per minute, despite the fact that my legs had turned to stone and I was still asking for more from them.
The human body IS an amazing thing.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Fundraising as of PMC weekend
By August 3rd, our 2008 fundraising total for the PMC is just over $4,700. We're still accepting donations until the October 1 deadline. I know some of you have expressed concern because you thought you missed the deadline, but you haven't - we still have almost 2 full months left. There is still time.
Our total over the years is now about $14,700. Not too shabby. Although, obviously, we're eagerly anticipating reaching the $20,000 mark. We'll pick a new goal after that.
Thanks again to all of you who have supported our PMC ride this year and in years past. Each year, our list of sponsors grow and grow. Our families are especially supportive and we literally cannot do the PMC without their help. But as the years go by, our friends, coworkers and neighbors donate (sometimes even unsolicited) on our behalf, and your support is also extremely appreciated - we can't do it without you guys either.
The farthest a donation has travelled to us this year is from Indonesia. In the states, we've had donations from Hawaii, California, Washington, Texas, Virginia, Maryland, Deleware, New York, and of course Massachusetts (our state is well represented with 15 sponsors). There are a few people shouldering much of the weight of our rides: to these supporters we owe a very big thank you. In order to respect their privacy, we wont list them here, but you know who you are. Thanks so much for your generosity.
Of course, the majority of donors who support our ride donate smaller amounts; the sheer number of these donors make up the other half of our fundraising efforts, and for these donations we are also very grateful - we couldn't do this ride without this help. We do, literally need all the help we can get. And luckily, we've been getting plenty. Thanks so much!
In total, we raised $47.46 for each mile we rode. If you were to calculate that number based solely on the number miles on the PMC route we chose, then we'd have an average of $100.97 per PMC mile.
Many thanks again to all of you who have so generously supported our PMC ride, the Jimmy Fund and the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. We're making progress!
Our 2008 PMC
You know, for signing up for a mere 47-mile route, I was on some level surprised that yesterday turned out to be my longest single-day ride ever. I shouldn’t have been, but there you have it. The grand total for our 2008 PMC ride was 112.48 miles. Previously, our longest ride to date was 111 miles, during the first day of last years PMC.
Yesterday went like this: We woke up at 3:45 in the morning, cooked a decent breakfast (egg & cheese sandwiches on bagels) and had the required double-shot of espresso. Perhaps some orange juice, too. We got dressed, got all of our lights on, and headed out the door around 5 am in complete darkness. I was very happy once the birds started chirping, and once the sky started turning grey instead of black. We had our bike headlights on, which kind of, sort of, ALMOST work to illuminate the road – but at least other people could see us. Not that there were other people around. We also had taillights on as well as one of those glow sticks kids use for trick-or-treating pinned to our backs. On Saturday, we had printed up & laminated some photos of Uncle Richard & Papa (in whose memory we rode in this year), and attached them to our jerseys.
To the laminated edges we also attached some stick on reflective stripes to help give us a little more visibility. For making up such a small portion of our ride, we put an awful lot of effort into making sure we were visible for those first 10 miles or so in the dark. We didn’t find much traffic at 5 am on Sunday morning, which was nice, but not surprising. Sane people were still in bed. We did see several trucks towing fishing boats around – but like I said, the sane people were in bed. I had half-expected to get pulled over by the cops in either Bolton or Stow (“are you nuts, riding in the dark? What are you doing? Are you on drugs?) – but alas, no police to be seen.
For the most part, the ride to the start line in Wellesley was great. It was quiet, there was very little traffic, no old men in their front yards staring us down with their hands on their hips (you’d be surprised how often that happens – its creepy. Maybe it’s the spandex.) and even no dogs barking at us. It was just Ken & I. There wasn’t any rain, or any wind, or any sun glare, or anything. A few puddles perhaps. It was very peaceful.
Of course, I got a flat on Rt. 126 in Sudbury (Wayland? Not really sure). We were cruising right along at 22 MPH or so on a nice little stretch, and ‘Ppsshhhhh’ goes my front tire. Big honking piece of glass in there. I took my bike into the shop this morning for a little love & maintenance, and they bike techs were a little surprised by the size hole in that tire. We replaced the tube and lined the tire with a dollar bill to keep it from flatting a second time. Must have worked, because it held. But after going to the shop this morning, I can’t help but think I was very, very lucky for the rest of the day yesterday. I kind of got the impression they couldn’t figure out how I didn’t have a full on blow out at 30 MPH.
We still made it to the start line with a half-hour to spare, which was great. We had a pit stop, got some food, refilled our water bottles, and lined up for the little speech before they let us leave.
The speech was amazing. It was short and to the point. It’s working! We’re helping. It’s projected that in 10 years, cancer will become a chronic disease, not a terminal disease. Think about that for a second. Ten years, on the scale of things, is a short time. In 10 years, all those people who right now are facing a terminal cancer diagnosis wouldn’t have to face the end of their lives so soon. One out of every two men and one out of every three women will face a cancer diagnosis at some point in their lives – in ten years (when I am 40) – that diagnosis wont be a terminal diagnosis. It’ll still be a hard fight. It’ll still be painful, and gut wrenching, but these people who are diagnosed will get more time to live, and perhaps eventually go into remission. This struck me particularly hard: my mother was diagnosed around the age of 40 (she’s been cancer free for about 20 years). By the time I am that age, it’ll be increasingly less likely that cancer will be as threatening as it is now. It’ll be no walk in the park, and there will be exceptions, but still. That is some serious, significant hope. Serious hope.
The start line in Wellesley is completely different than it is at Sturbridge. Wellesley is much more laid back. There are far fewer people (at least on Sunday) and that means far fewer people who have problems clipping in and causing accidents in the beginning. There isn’t as much fanfare, but I’m OK with that. I’m not a fanfare kind of girl. Makes me uneasy. Here's a photo of Ken at the start - i took it mainly because a) he wasn't looking, b) I had to take at least one photo, and c) you can kind of see that there aren't a whole lot of people crowding around him, and we were pretty much right in the middle of "the crowd".
The ride itself was pretty easy. There were few hills, and no real big ones. There was one water stop, where we ate a bunch of food and made glad use of the port-o-johns. We stretched a bit, and then continued on to the end of the ride for 20 miles or so. At one point, I was riding behind a woman from Arlington and I could totally see through her shorts (they were red, and looked like maybe they were a little faded). It was a bit distracting. People: when you wear bike shorts, for the love of god, make sure you can’t see through them. Ask someone you know and trust to check for you.
The end line came surprisingly quick, although I was tired by that point. Actually, I was tired at about mile 60, groaning because I thought I had 40 more miles to go. As it turned out, we had more like 52 miles left to go from that point. The “official” ride ended at 77 miles – there were people cheering you on as you neared the finish line, and one was joking “only a few more miles” (we could see the finish line from there) and I couldn’t resist – I replied… “not for us. We have about 30 left”. I’m a dork, what can I say? At this point, I’ve just gotten used to it.
We hung around the finish line for a while. Apparently, we finished early, as there was only a short line for ordering food by the time we had hung our bikes up and used the facilities. We were going to go back for seconds only to find out the line had quadrupled in length. Oh well. We refilled the water bottles again, visited the medical tent for some muscle rub & ice for the shoulder, and rested for about 15 minutes. Then we stretched a bit, got back on the bike & headed home.
The ride home wasn’t as bad as I had feared it was going to be at mile 60 when I realized I was tired. My quads & hamstrings were shot. I kept running out of gears, but my heart rate was stubbornly low (150 or so going up hills). I was just completely out of gas, apparently. A couple of showers caught us on the way home, but they were short, and actually felt a little good. Not enough rain to cause a safety issue, really.
Overall, our average speed for the ride was 15.65 MPH. The first 30 miles or so, our average was near 17 MPH. For the first 77 miles, cumulative, our average speed was about 16.2 MPH. We really slowed down on that last stretch. All together, the ride took us just over 7 hours of actual riding (time ON the bike). We climbed a total of 413 feet during the ride, which is a very small amount, given the distance (400 feet of climbing is what we'd usually do in 20 mile ride). We left at 5 am and were home by 2:30 pm. I have no idea how long the water stop and lunch took us. I also have no idea whether the ride started “on time” or not. Any way you slice it, it was a long day. But it was WELL worth it.
I sat down yesterday afternoon to map out the ride and start writing this post, but I was incapable of staying awake long enough to get very far. Every time I had to wait for anything to load, I fell soundly asleep, and I eventually gave up out of fear of dropping my computer when I fell asleep. Were went to bed at 7 pm – the dogs were not pleased.
Yesterday went like this: We woke up at 3:45 in the morning, cooked a decent breakfast (egg & cheese sandwiches on bagels) and had the required double-shot of espresso. Perhaps some orange juice, too. We got dressed, got all of our lights on, and headed out the door around 5 am in complete darkness. I was very happy once the birds started chirping, and once the sky started turning grey instead of black. We had our bike headlights on, which kind of, sort of, ALMOST work to illuminate the road – but at least other people could see us. Not that there were other people around. We also had taillights on as well as one of those glow sticks kids use for trick-or-treating pinned to our backs. On Saturday, we had printed up & laminated some photos of Uncle Richard & Papa (in whose memory we rode in this year), and attached them to our jerseys.
To the laminated edges we also attached some stick on reflective stripes to help give us a little more visibility. For making up such a small portion of our ride, we put an awful lot of effort into making sure we were visible for those first 10 miles or so in the dark. We didn’t find much traffic at 5 am on Sunday morning, which was nice, but not surprising. Sane people were still in bed. We did see several trucks towing fishing boats around – but like I said, the sane people were in bed. I had half-expected to get pulled over by the cops in either Bolton or Stow (“are you nuts, riding in the dark? What are you doing? Are you on drugs?) – but alas, no police to be seen.
For the most part, the ride to the start line in Wellesley was great. It was quiet, there was very little traffic, no old men in their front yards staring us down with their hands on their hips (you’d be surprised how often that happens – its creepy. Maybe it’s the spandex.) and even no dogs barking at us. It was just Ken & I. There wasn’t any rain, or any wind, or any sun glare, or anything. A few puddles perhaps. It was very peaceful.
Of course, I got a flat on Rt. 126 in Sudbury (Wayland? Not really sure). We were cruising right along at 22 MPH or so on a nice little stretch, and ‘Ppsshhhhh’ goes my front tire. Big honking piece of glass in there. I took my bike into the shop this morning for a little love & maintenance, and they bike techs were a little surprised by the size hole in that tire. We replaced the tube and lined the tire with a dollar bill to keep it from flatting a second time. Must have worked, because it held. But after going to the shop this morning, I can’t help but think I was very, very lucky for the rest of the day yesterday. I kind of got the impression they couldn’t figure out how I didn’t have a full on blow out at 30 MPH.
We still made it to the start line with a half-hour to spare, which was great. We had a pit stop, got some food, refilled our water bottles, and lined up for the little speech before they let us leave.
The speech was amazing. It was short and to the point. It’s working! We’re helping. It’s projected that in 10 years, cancer will become a chronic disease, not a terminal disease. Think about that for a second. Ten years, on the scale of things, is a short time. In 10 years, all those people who right now are facing a terminal cancer diagnosis wouldn’t have to face the end of their lives so soon. One out of every two men and one out of every three women will face a cancer diagnosis at some point in their lives – in ten years (when I am 40) – that diagnosis wont be a terminal diagnosis. It’ll still be a hard fight. It’ll still be painful, and gut wrenching, but these people who are diagnosed will get more time to live, and perhaps eventually go into remission. This struck me particularly hard: my mother was diagnosed around the age of 40 (she’s been cancer free for about 20 years). By the time I am that age, it’ll be increasingly less likely that cancer will be as threatening as it is now. It’ll be no walk in the park, and there will be exceptions, but still. That is some serious, significant hope. Serious hope.
The start line in Wellesley is completely different than it is at Sturbridge. Wellesley is much more laid back. There are far fewer people (at least on Sunday) and that means far fewer people who have problems clipping in and causing accidents in the beginning. There isn’t as much fanfare, but I’m OK with that. I’m not a fanfare kind of girl. Makes me uneasy. Here's a photo of Ken at the start - i took it mainly because a) he wasn't looking, b) I had to take at least one photo, and c) you can kind of see that there aren't a whole lot of people crowding around him, and we were pretty much right in the middle of "the crowd".
The ride itself was pretty easy. There were few hills, and no real big ones. There was one water stop, where we ate a bunch of food and made glad use of the port-o-johns. We stretched a bit, and then continued on to the end of the ride for 20 miles or so. At one point, I was riding behind a woman from Arlington and I could totally see through her shorts (they were red, and looked like maybe they were a little faded). It was a bit distracting. People: when you wear bike shorts, for the love of god, make sure you can’t see through them. Ask someone you know and trust to check for you.
The end line came surprisingly quick, although I was tired by that point. Actually, I was tired at about mile 60, groaning because I thought I had 40 more miles to go. As it turned out, we had more like 52 miles left to go from that point. The “official” ride ended at 77 miles – there were people cheering you on as you neared the finish line, and one was joking “only a few more miles” (we could see the finish line from there) and I couldn’t resist – I replied… “not for us. We have about 30 left”. I’m a dork, what can I say? At this point, I’ve just gotten used to it.
We hung around the finish line for a while. Apparently, we finished early, as there was only a short line for ordering food by the time we had hung our bikes up and used the facilities. We were going to go back for seconds only to find out the line had quadrupled in length. Oh well. We refilled the water bottles again, visited the medical tent for some muscle rub & ice for the shoulder, and rested for about 15 minutes. Then we stretched a bit, got back on the bike & headed home.
The ride home wasn’t as bad as I had feared it was going to be at mile 60 when I realized I was tired. My quads & hamstrings were shot. I kept running out of gears, but my heart rate was stubbornly low (150 or so going up hills). I was just completely out of gas, apparently. A couple of showers caught us on the way home, but they were short, and actually felt a little good. Not enough rain to cause a safety issue, really.
Overall, our average speed for the ride was 15.65 MPH. The first 30 miles or so, our average was near 17 MPH. For the first 77 miles, cumulative, our average speed was about 16.2 MPH. We really slowed down on that last stretch. All together, the ride took us just over 7 hours of actual riding (time ON the bike). We climbed a total of 413 feet during the ride, which is a very small amount, given the distance (400 feet of climbing is what we'd usually do in 20 mile ride). We left at 5 am and were home by 2:30 pm. I have no idea how long the water stop and lunch took us. I also have no idea whether the ride started “on time” or not. Any way you slice it, it was a long day. But it was WELL worth it.
I sat down yesterday afternoon to map out the ride and start writing this post, but I was incapable of staying awake long enough to get very far. Every time I had to wait for anything to load, I fell soundly asleep, and I eventually gave up out of fear of dropping my computer when I fell asleep. Were went to bed at 7 pm – the dogs were not pleased.
Friday, August 1, 2008
PMC Weekend is Here!
Opening ceremonies will be broadcast live starting at 8 p.m. on NECN. It MIGHT be broadcast on their website as well, although I don't really know.
Here comes the time when I wish I hadn't been so darn logical in choosing our route this year. It would have been really nice to do the whole 2-day event again, despite the other stuff going on in our lives and our inability to reach the minimum fundraising amount. There's always next year, I suppose. But I still feel left out.
So far this year, we've raised approximately $4,500 - and for the first time we haven't had to donate to our own ride at all. This is progress! Although I'm sure we'll donate anyway when all is said and done (I'm feeling a bit guilty about not doing the 2-day, if you can't tell). In the past 3 years, we've raised approximately $14,000 for the Jimmy Fund & I'm already scheming for ways to double it. And then double it again. I open to ideas, if you have any - send them my way.
We ride this year in memory of George "Joji" "Papa" Tanabe and Uncle Richard Nagano.
It was 3 years ago last weekend that we lost Uncle Richard, and it was 3 years ago this weekend that we were in Hawaii attending his services. Ironically, the PMC weekend will always have a double meaning for us in that regard. Auntie wrote that she still wonders whether there could have been anything done, medically, to prolong Uncle's time with us (it would have been nice to see him one last time, although his pride may not have allowed it after having been sick for so long - we'll never know). This is one of the reasons we ride - perhaps we can not only find a way to prolong a life with treatment, but maybe together, we can find a cure for cancer. I know that we all will eventually pass on, but a long, drawn out painful illness is not how I would like to go, and I don't wish it on even my own worst enemy, let alone those I love.
Papa passed 5 years ago this fall. His illness seemed relatively quick - it wasn't a matter of years, but a matter of months. Papa did have time to get his affairs in order, to some extent. He spent a considerable amount of time with Ken's sister, and I know they had some special outings together, including going back to the house Papa was born in on the former sugar plantation. He moved in with his son, and the hospice care folks took care of him at home. Papa had been asking for Ken to come for some time. We sent Papa a photo album, but couldn't come visit because Ken was in some military training and wasn't allowed to leave - apparently, grandparents weren't considered "immediate family". When we could finally get leave to go visit, we passed word to Papa that we were coming, hoping that he could hang on just a little longer. He couldn't. When his time came, his son was with him, and he said he was ready to go "home". We missed him by a couple of days.
The weather for this weekend looks a bit iffy. I suppose after 2 consecutive years of nice weather, it was bound to happen. Thunderstorms and heavy rain are forecast (up to 1.75" total over the weekend), although the temps will only be in the upper 70s, which isn't bad. We'll make a decision on whether we are going to drive to the ride or ride to the ride on Saturday afternoon. We'd prefer to ride to the ride, but not if it means riding in the dark in the morning (we'd have to leave by 5 am or so - sunrise is at 540) in a blinding downpour along busy roads - its a recipe for disaster. Safety MUST win out over pride and stubbornness. So we'll see.
Monday, July 28, 2008
End of July
Ken & I completed a 70-mile ride down on the cape on Saturday. We've come to the conclusion that riding on the cape, although flat, is much harder than riding in a "normal" place: the traffic on cape roads is generally awful, but the rail trail, while beautiful, is full of starts and stops with road crossings and random kids stopping directly in the middle of the trail - by the time you get up to "cruising speed" you have to stop again. We spent a lot of energy getting up to a nice speed only to have to stop and then crank it up again. We did find some nice roads that were fairly quiet and pleasant, but there weren't really enough of them for a 70-mile ride. It was a bit tedious - we ended up riding the rail trail from Brewster to Dennis, then across to Chatham where we got off the trail to ride a little loop around Chatham Light, then we took some roads back parallel to the rail trail, got back on it, and took the trail up to Orleans or so, got off the trail to ride around Rock Harbor & into Eastham, then back on the trail to the end in Wellfleet. Then we just took the trail back to Brewster.
My total mileage for the month of July thus far is 418 miles; my total for the season to date is 805 miles. I'll likely ride another 40-50 miles by the end of the work week, bringing my total up to 850 or so before the ride on Sunday (where I'll tack on another 100 miles or so).
I've burned 32,978 calories so far this season. That's 183 double-tall whole milk lattes. I've climbed a combined total of 11,222 vertical feet and spent nearly 60 hours on the bike in total.
Fundraising continues to go well. By my calculations, we're up to $3,801 raised for the Jimmy Fund, bringing our cumulative PMC total up to something like $14,000 over the years. The average per person donation this year was $181. Not too shabby.
I'm very excited that we've reached our fundraising goal before the ride. Thanks for all your help!
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Training update
I joined a '300 mile per month' challenge that started on July 1. Yesterday I completed the challenge a full 12 days early. I'm averaging 100 miles or so a week. I had been hoping to get 130 miles or so in this week, but unfortunately reality has gotten in the way, and it looks like I'll be stuck at 88 miles (unless I find some energy later on). Ken ended up having to work all night long last night, and we both got very little sleep (2 or 3 hours, intermittent). As its supposed to rain heavily at some point this afternoon, we're skipping todays ride. I've been feeling a bit fatigued, and it's not worth it to push too hard at this point. We'll ride tomorrow morning instead, and get a good long ride in this next weekend - if we can do 70-75 miles we just might make it on August 3rd. I'm going to try to convince Ken to either leave work early or go in late several times a week between now & the ride to get him some more miles in on his bike. We'll see. A little more time in the saddle right now might save him a lot of suffering later on.
Fundraising Update
Well, we've made our goal. Thanks again to all of you who have helped us along way. Your generosity is commendable. We are still asking for donations, however, so if you've been planning to donate but haven't yet gotten around to it, it's not too late. In fact, our fundraising isn't actually due until October. Even though we've reached our goal, we would still like to raise as much money as possible for the Jimmy Fund and the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.
To date, we've raised $3,663 for 2008s PMC ride. We still have some donation requests to send out & I'm still working on getting all those "thank yous" in the mail. The average donation is $193 (although I'll admit that average was brought up significantly by one large donation). We've had donations from Hawaii, Washington State, California, Delaware, Maryland, New York, and a great many from Massachusetts (as one might expect since we live here).
We've only received one request to ride in the memory of a loved one: George Joji "Papa" Tanabe. We'll also be riding in the memory of Uncle Richard Nagano as well as in the honor of my mother. We hope that our efforts to help fund a cure for cancer would have been (or, in the case of my mother, are) a source of pride for these loved ones. We'll continue to keep them in our thoughts along the way.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Ride Route
So I've mapped out the 1 day route that we are riding this year. The elevation profile is showing a measely 207 feet of climbing and a length of 45 miles. According to our ride booklet, there is a breakfast buffet from 6 am until 7:15 am. It's possible we will have 2 big challenges on the day of the ride: 1) getting to that buffet before the ride starts and 2) getting home after the ride. The ride itself should be pretty easy. Unless, of course, the weather rears it's potentially ugly head.
The PMC is not a race. However, I would be curious to see how quickly I could finish a 45-mile, more or less flat, fully supported ride. It is tempting. I think perhaps that of for some reason we are unable to ride to the start line (and thus have to drive), we'll at least know how quickly we can finish the ride. It's tempting, that's for sure. Wrong, but tempting.
The ride from our house to the start at Babson College is 27 miles; on the way TO the ride, it's a nice 311 foot descent. Of course, the reverse is true. What goes up must come down - or, in our case, we still have to get home, and it will be all up hill at the end of the day (well, more likely the middle of the day. Maybe we'll eat and a take a nap or something before we head home).
In total, for our PMC day this year, we're looking at 99 miles and 516 feet of total elevation gain. Not so bad. We can do that.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Training Totals
Well, we're back home now, and I have my handy little spreadsheet that shows my seasonal totals. I've ridden just a hair over 600 miles, burned 25,000 kcals, and spent 45 hours in the saddle. On average, it costs me 40 calories to ride a mile on my bike.
25,000 calories is like eating 581 pounds of lobster meat. Follow that link if you were looking for an excuse to indulge. Apparently, the average person has their fill of lobster after a quarter-pound of cooked meat - which means I've biked enough to consume 2,324 servings of lobster meat. Thats a whole lot of lobster, and doesn't really sound that appetizing.
25,000 calories is like eating 581 pounds of lobster meat. Follow that link if you were looking for an excuse to indulge. Apparently, the average person has their fill of lobster after a quarter-pound of cooked meat - which means I've biked enough to consume 2,324 servings of lobster meat. Thats a whole lot of lobster, and doesn't really sound that appetizing.
We were in the local paper...
Last month we were noted in the local paper, along with the other 10 town residents who are participating in the PMC.
More recently, six town residents who are volunteering their time and skills to the PMC during the ride weekend were also noted.
I was pleased to see that our local paper recognizes both volunteers and riders - we riders can't do anything without the volunteers. Without the riders, there's no event to volunteer for. I'm very happy that our town paper recognizes both groups equally. The volunteers don't get enough recognition (that I see, anyway - we get a lot of "thanks" for doing the ride from our supporters along with a donation). However, during the ride weekend, if you thank a volunteer (as a rider) for volunteering, they simply turn it around on you and thank you for riding. But really, it's the volunteers that make the ride happen - they make it possible, they make it successful, they make it safe and they make it fun. They also make it so that 100% of the money we riders raise goes straight to the Jimmy Fund.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Training on the Cape
Well, I'm borrowing Ken's computer while we watch Le Tour on TV, so I don't have access to my cumulative totals for the season. But yesterday we did a long training ride on the Cape ("the Cod" as my niece used to say). "Long" is a such a relative term - last year, the ride we did yesterday would have been considered "shorter" or maybe "medium length". Funny the difference a year makes.
Yesterday's ride started in Brewster and ended up somewhere in N. Truro. We started in Brewster around noon or so - we had some errands to do in the morning, so we couldn't get an earlier start. Which is too bad, as we were riding around the cape during the hottest part of the day (although not bad) and during the heaviest traffic (Saturday is turn-over day on the cape - most weekly rentals run Saturday to Saturday).
We took the rail trail east toward Orleans and Wellfleet, and we were very pleased to find that the rail trail was as wonderful as we remembered from last year. We cruised along at 25 MPH with a heart rate in the 140s - below my target training zone. It was just wonderful. For miles.
Ocean View Drive in Wellfleet (I think that is Wellfleet, although I'm not sure) was beautiful - the view was incredible, as usual. The roads on this part of the cape are beautiful and undulating. Quite fun. We did have to get on Route 6 for a little while, and we were very saddened to have come across a cyclist headed westbound who had just been hit by a car. His mountain bike was under the front end of an SUV. He was conscious, and some people with first aid training was attending to him, while other passers-by directed traffic around him while waiting for emergency personnel to arrive. One of the first-aid administrators had immobilized the cyclists head, and a second person had his hand on the cyclists chest and was speaking with him. The situation was under control and there was nothing we could do to help in any way, so we just passed slowly & carefully and got out of the way.
Some of you may know that Ken & I took a wilderness first aid class together in March. For some crazy reason, I had always assumed that if the need for those skills came up, we'd be out hiking in the woods somewhere. It didn't even occur to me that as cyclists these skills might come in handy. Perhaps thats called denial. But once again, I'm really happy we took that step to educate ourselves.
The rest of the ride was good, but windy. The wind really wore us down especially on Shore Drive in N. Truro just before the Provincetown line. This stretch of road is sandwiched between dunes & some cottages to the west and a giant pond to the east - in between each structure we past, the wind would buffet our bike and drive us sideways, so we'd correct, and then the wind would be gone as we entered into another wind shadow, and we'd end up not adjusting quickly enough and veering off to the side as if we had over corrected. It took a lot of attention to deal with this with no shoulder on a busy road. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was draining. Eventually, the bike computers read "30 miles" and we just turned around in order to stay within our planned mileage for the day.
The way back was, or course, beautiful. We stayed mostly to the west of route 6 in a hilly, wild-looking area in the south Truro/Wellfleet area. I can't wait to go back and explore these roads a little more. Simply wonderful biking.
Overall, I burned 2604 kcals in just over 4.5 hours of cycling. Our average was pretty good in the beginning, but it dropped once we got up into the hills of Wellfleet and then into the wind of Truro. Ken's cramping got pretty bad for the last third of the ride, and it became a very quiet, very lonely ride. He wont talk to me when he's in difficulty, and it's just very lonely and quiet. I think mostly the cramping was due to a combination of conditioning and not eating enough. We had planned to stop for a sandwich somewhere, but it never happened. We had brought some food, most of which I gave to Ken as he seems to need it more than I do. Ken burned almost a thousand more kcals than I did - and I promise, we were on the same ride. When we were about 10 miles from the being done, Ken ran out of water, and we learned how to pass bottles back and forth. Just as we completed the last hand-off, a rabbit darted off the side of the bike path right in front of my wheel. I screamed, Ken swerved a bit, and the rabbit ran off unharmed. Which is good, if it had hit either one of us, it would have caused us to crash and likely land ON or next to a skunk we passed foraging on the opposite side of the bike path. What's worse than crashing? Crashing and landing on an unsuspecting skunk. We'll be thankful for small miracles.
We made it home, split a quick sandwich, enjoyed the outdoor shower and then proceeding to cook up Frank & Larry - the two lobsters we picked up at the Orleans farmers market that morning. Lobsters, apparently, are pretty damn healthy. Per 100 grams of cooked, edible product, Lobster has 98 kcals, where as Chicken breast has 165, a whole egg has 149 and beef has 216. Lobster has "21" of protein (my little handout does not say 21 what, but whatever); chicken has 31; egg has 12; and beef has 30. Lobster is very lean with 0.6 for fat, as compared with chicken (3.6), egg (10) or beef (9.9); it's also low in cholesterol, with 72 as compared with chicken (85), egg (423) or beef (86). We're not starving too bad today, so it must have been a fairly good meal.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Fundraising update: 7/9/08
We're at about 30% of our fundraising goal - we've raised $895 to date. Thanks so much to those of you who have already contributed! Our average per-person contribution is $81. At this rate, we'll need an additional 25 donors to make our fundraising goal. We officially have until fall to raise the total amount, so I am trying not to panic yet. I think we can do it.
I have to send more letters out here shortly, but on the off chance that anyone would like help support the PMC & the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute before I send them the letter, here is the link to our webpage.
We'll get there, sure enough. We'll just keep plugging away...
I have to send more letters out here shortly, but on the off chance that anyone would like help support the PMC & the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute before I send them the letter, here is the link to our webpage.
We'll get there, sure enough. We'll just keep plugging away...
The 4th of July...
.. has come and gone. Hope everyone had a happy & safe holiday. Ken took last week off - a much needed break from constantly checking his blackberry. It was really nice to walk into a room and not crash into him because he was standing in the doorway reading email. It appeared to have been good for him as well :-)
We did some biking last week - a group ride Wednesday morning at 6 a.m., and we did a 35 mile ride on Thursday (they weren't kidding with air quality alert) and a 40 mile ride on Sunday.
Thursday's ride was hard. It wasn't long, there weren't any big hills, but the air was thick, there was an ozone alert, and it was hot (there was a breeze). We didn't get started until late morning, and it was just draining. We started in Acton, and wove our way through Concord & Carlisle. Almost got killed in Carlisle. I have named that ride on MapMyRide.com as "Carlisle drivers are awful". Please, people, when you pass good cyclists obeying traffic laws, share the road, will you? for the love of god... we have as much of a right to ride single file on the road as the other people who drive on the road. A legal right.
Anyway, after the Thursdays ride, we went out to Lunch at Savory Lane in West Acton. We could have easily eaten, oh, I dunno, the entire menu. But we didn't. We had nice normal sized sandwiches and a lemonade. And then just kind of stared at each other. We were zonked. We ended up just kind of be lazy around the house the rest of the day and going for an early dinner at Olive Garden and ate everything in sight. Felt good enough after that to stay up and watch the town fireworks from our back deck.
Friday we went to Wachusett Mtn. to watch part of the Longsjo Classic stage race- this stage on the 4th was around and then up Wachusett Mtn. I am very happy we went. It was kind of a miserable coll & dreary day, but it was really intense to see the men's elite racers come down mountain road in front of the ski area at some 70 MPH or so. That's what I heard their speed was, anyway - the main field when screaming by at some ridiculous speed & it was incredibly loud. I've decided that on some levels, bike racing is much easier to watch on TV than in person. I got literally dizzy watching all those bikes scream by. The Stage finish was at the top of the auto road up Wachusett - and it was really cool. The women's elite group was decided by a sprint right to the line - conveniently, exactly where I was standing.
Another great thing I noticed at the race was that the women's elite (pro-level) racers came in all shapes & sizes. With men's racing, most of the guys are these skeleton looking super-lean guys - the kind you want to feed before the waste away completely. But the women were normal sized. They weren't super tall or super short or super skinny. Most of them were healthy normal weights - and there was a wide range. If I have a daughter, she's going to have to go watch these types of events just to help reinforce the accurate body image idea. It was really refreshing. Even as an adult, I found this really uplifting.
One bummer about the race: I found out afterward that since the women & men's groups shared the course, the race referees would STOP the women's race. Litteraly STOP them where they were - so that the men's race could pass. Not once, but several times. So anyone lagging behind could potentially catch up with the group. Or, they would be stopped before a big climb and have to climb it from a dead stop, with no momentum. Or someone in difficulty could get a chance to recover a bit. I'm not sure how that can be acceptable, and it really made me mad. Equality in sports my butt.
Anyway - back to our rides... Sunday's ride went much better. We had good legs, weren't sore afterward, and had plenty of energy after our ride. Amazing what a difference a little clean air and a little rest will make. We also had to build in some stretching for me, as my shoulder problem had progressed into a neck problem, and it was becoming a REAL problem (I've now started a new round of chiropractic treatment - I should be "done" around next February or so). It's really hard to manage this shoulder issue of mine without resorting to the muscle relaxants. But I didn't (on the off chance that I could be pregnant). During one of these stretching breaks, we saw a guy pass us on a Harley - with a pair of crutches strapped to the side. That's not something you see everyday.
In total, we road just over 100 miles last week. I'm up to a total of 510 miles on the season, and it should go up rapidly from here. I have a ride planned on Friday morning which will likely be about 25 miles, and then a 60-65 mile ride planned for Saturday (I also road 20 miles on Monday) - so this week should total about a 100 miles as well. That will probably be our average over the coming weeks, although I may increase it a little bit in a couple of weeks. Its a fine line between adequately training and over-training. I'm hoping we'll be in the "adequate" category.
Totals to date:
Hours in the saddle: almost 39 hours. Almost a whole "work week" (yea, right)
Calories burned: 22,005 kcals (equivalent to 60 peanut butter & jelly sandwiches)
Vertical feet climbed: 7,878 feet. (mapmyride has changed their mapping software, and it's not nearly as accurate, so I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep that tally going - any new routes will be off by several hundred feet, which is just annoying).
Nutrition continues to be tricky. I'm trying to closely monitor my caffeine intake - and most of the sport gels & supplements have caffeine in them - I can eat two flavors of Gu, one of which actually tastes ok. It's too hot at the moment to bake anything, so homemade protein bars are out. I'm trying to avoid lunch meat, which makes getting enough protein during the day tricky. I'm seriously considering fishsticks and chicken nuggets for lunch everyday. On Sunday we brought chunks of cooked (microwaved) potatoes with us - lightly salted w/ herbs. They were good (way more potassium than a banana, and much more earth friendly), but a little tricky to eat while breathing hard. I got potato on my shoe at one point. I imagine if I got potato in my drivetrain that could be bad.
We did some biking last week - a group ride Wednesday morning at 6 a.m., and we did a 35 mile ride on Thursday (they weren't kidding with air quality alert) and a 40 mile ride on Sunday.
Thursday's ride was hard. It wasn't long, there weren't any big hills, but the air was thick, there was an ozone alert, and it was hot (there was a breeze). We didn't get started until late morning, and it was just draining. We started in Acton, and wove our way through Concord & Carlisle. Almost got killed in Carlisle. I have named that ride on MapMyRide.com as "Carlisle drivers are awful". Please, people, when you pass good cyclists obeying traffic laws, share the road, will you? for the love of god... we have as much of a right to ride single file on the road as the other people who drive on the road. A legal right.
Anyway, after the Thursdays ride, we went out to Lunch at Savory Lane in West Acton. We could have easily eaten, oh, I dunno, the entire menu. But we didn't. We had nice normal sized sandwiches and a lemonade. And then just kind of stared at each other. We were zonked. We ended up just kind of be lazy around the house the rest of the day and going for an early dinner at Olive Garden and ate everything in sight. Felt good enough after that to stay up and watch the town fireworks from our back deck.
Friday we went to Wachusett Mtn. to watch part of the Longsjo Classic stage race- this stage on the 4th was around and then up Wachusett Mtn. I am very happy we went. It was kind of a miserable coll & dreary day, but it was really intense to see the men's elite racers come down mountain road in front of the ski area at some 70 MPH or so. That's what I heard their speed was, anyway - the main field when screaming by at some ridiculous speed & it was incredibly loud. I've decided that on some levels, bike racing is much easier to watch on TV than in person. I got literally dizzy watching all those bikes scream by. The Stage finish was at the top of the auto road up Wachusett - and it was really cool. The women's elite group was decided by a sprint right to the line - conveniently, exactly where I was standing.
Another great thing I noticed at the race was that the women's elite (pro-level) racers came in all shapes & sizes. With men's racing, most of the guys are these skeleton looking super-lean guys - the kind you want to feed before the waste away completely. But the women were normal sized. They weren't super tall or super short or super skinny. Most of them were healthy normal weights - and there was a wide range. If I have a daughter, she's going to have to go watch these types of events just to help reinforce the accurate body image idea. It was really refreshing. Even as an adult, I found this really uplifting.
One bummer about the race: I found out afterward that since the women & men's groups shared the course, the race referees would STOP the women's race. Litteraly STOP them where they were - so that the men's race could pass. Not once, but several times. So anyone lagging behind could potentially catch up with the group. Or, they would be stopped before a big climb and have to climb it from a dead stop, with no momentum. Or someone in difficulty could get a chance to recover a bit. I'm not sure how that can be acceptable, and it really made me mad. Equality in sports my butt.
Anyway - back to our rides... Sunday's ride went much better. We had good legs, weren't sore afterward, and had plenty of energy after our ride. Amazing what a difference a little clean air and a little rest will make. We also had to build in some stretching for me, as my shoulder problem had progressed into a neck problem, and it was becoming a REAL problem (I've now started a new round of chiropractic treatment - I should be "done" around next February or so). It's really hard to manage this shoulder issue of mine without resorting to the muscle relaxants. But I didn't (on the off chance that I could be pregnant). During one of these stretching breaks, we saw a guy pass us on a Harley - with a pair of crutches strapped to the side. That's not something you see everyday.
In total, we road just over 100 miles last week. I'm up to a total of 510 miles on the season, and it should go up rapidly from here. I have a ride planned on Friday morning which will likely be about 25 miles, and then a 60-65 mile ride planned for Saturday (I also road 20 miles on Monday) - so this week should total about a 100 miles as well. That will probably be our average over the coming weeks, although I may increase it a little bit in a couple of weeks. Its a fine line between adequately training and over-training. I'm hoping we'll be in the "adequate" category.
Totals to date:
Hours in the saddle: almost 39 hours. Almost a whole "work week" (yea, right)
Calories burned: 22,005 kcals (equivalent to 60 peanut butter & jelly sandwiches)
Vertical feet climbed: 7,878 feet. (mapmyride has changed their mapping software, and it's not nearly as accurate, so I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep that tally going - any new routes will be off by several hundred feet, which is just annoying).
Nutrition continues to be tricky. I'm trying to closely monitor my caffeine intake - and most of the sport gels & supplements have caffeine in them - I can eat two flavors of Gu, one of which actually tastes ok. It's too hot at the moment to bake anything, so homemade protein bars are out. I'm trying to avoid lunch meat, which makes getting enough protein during the day tricky. I'm seriously considering fishsticks and chicken nuggets for lunch everyday. On Sunday we brought chunks of cooked (microwaved) potatoes with us - lightly salted w/ herbs. They were good (way more potassium than a banana, and much more earth friendly), but a little tricky to eat while breathing hard. I got potato on my shoe at one point. I imagine if I got potato in my drivetrain that could be bad.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
June wrap-up
Well, June is over. We've had a nice string of thunderstorms nearly every afternoon. For the first time ever, I saw hail in New England. Luckily, I've gotten into the habit of riding in the morning. As a result, I've only had to cancel one ride due to weather conditions thus far.
Fundraising: We've raised $570, which means we're at 19% of our goal. Not too bad, but we still have a long way to go.
Training is going a bit slow. We'll be getting into the grind this month, and wont have time for doing much else besides riding. We're a bit behind on the long rides, but I think we'll be able to get them in. Let's hope for some good weather so we can get it done.
I've ridden 388 miles on the season thus far. I've climbed a total of 6,139 vertical feet and burned some 17,000 kcals. Our training rides have been short - in the 20-30 mile range, but we've been averaging several hundred feet of climbing each ride, and our average speed has been going up. In the past, this has translated into better endurance on the long flat rides, which is what we're more or less expecting for our PMC ride this year. Maybe some gentle rolling hills. I hope to get a long flat ride in later this week and see how the endurance is shaping up in order to test my theory. But it's worked in the past.
Thanks again to all of you who have donated to our 2008 PMC ride. We literally couldn't do it without you.
Fundraising: We've raised $570, which means we're at 19% of our goal. Not too bad, but we still have a long way to go.
Training is going a bit slow. We'll be getting into the grind this month, and wont have time for doing much else besides riding. We're a bit behind on the long rides, but I think we'll be able to get them in. Let's hope for some good weather so we can get it done.
I've ridden 388 miles on the season thus far. I've climbed a total of 6,139 vertical feet and burned some 17,000 kcals. Our training rides have been short - in the 20-30 mile range, but we've been averaging several hundred feet of climbing each ride, and our average speed has been going up. In the past, this has translated into better endurance on the long flat rides, which is what we're more or less expecting for our PMC ride this year. Maybe some gentle rolling hills. I hope to get a long flat ride in later this week and see how the endurance is shaping up in order to test my theory. But it's worked in the past.
Thanks again to all of you who have donated to our 2008 PMC ride. We literally couldn't do it without you.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Why we do the PMC
So after update our PMC profile & history on the PMC website, it occurs to me that we might do well to explain why we particpate in the PMC. It's a lot of work - we wouldn't want to seem crazy.
Karen's mother, Wanda, had cancer when she was in elementary school. As a child, Karen was shielded from the pain & the fear associated with her mother's illness, but looking back, it was a definitive life event, and it was hard on the rest of her family. Wanda continues to livestrong - some 20 years or so in remission, and it is partially in her honor that we ride.
When we first moved back to Massachusetts, we hadn't yet heard of the PMC. As fate would have it, the summer (2005), Ken's uncle Richard lost his battle with cancer at the end of July, and his services were held on the first weekend of August - the PMC weekend. We made the trek back to Hawaii for services that weekend, and would have had to miss the PMC anyway, had we planned to participate.
Ken and Uncle Richard were fairly close. Along with Ken's Aunt, they would take Ken, his sister, and sometimes his cousin on trips in the summer as children, which led to an atypically close relationship - almost like having a second set of parents. Even as an adult it is difficult to realize how quickly things can change and how quickly someone once seemingly invincible can disappear. The last time we had seen Uncle Richard was at Ken's grandfather's funeral, who had passed away from cancer in the fall of 2003. No one can see into the future, but I wish we had had more time to visit with him & Auntie that trip. It never even crossed our mind that he wouldn't still be there when we next went "home".
Ken's grandfather lost his battle with cancer in the fall of 2003. Papa, as he was known, had been asking for Ken to come visit during the last weeks of his life. Due to a military committment, Ken had to delay his trip home longer than anyone would have liked, but we were finally able to make arrangements to fly home to see Papa. We had family members tell Papa we were coming, to give him hope, and a reason to hang on a little longer if he so chose. But he couldn't. The night before we were to fly out, we received word that Papa had passed on. We didn't get to say goodbye. Suddenly our trip to visit had turned into a trip too late. We missed him literally by a matter of a day. It was told to us upon our arrival, that his last few hours were spent in and of hallucinations, and the last thing that Papa said to his son was that he was ready to go home (he was at home, but not the home he was talking about). When we got to Hawaii, at least we were able to help with the funeral preparations. We picked Papa up from the crematorium, and I can still feel the weight of his urn in my hands.
Cancer runs in both of our families. It also has affected a great many of our friends. To this end, we try to live a healthy lifestyle. We eat right, we eat organically when possible. We take care of our environment and limit what exposures to carcinogens we can. We wear sunscreen religiously. We don't smoke. We exercise - and by doing so, we raise money to fund cancer care and research to help others.
There is no way to turn back time and do things differently. But we can learn from our losses. We can also do our part to help avoid these situations in the future for other people. We can help create hope, and the PMC brings a great deal of hope to a great many people. There is nothing like spending a weekend riding with some 5,000 other riders who are all there for the same purpose. The hope that is generated in tremendous. I know the PMC is bittersweet for many, if not most, of it's participants and volunteers. There are a great many tears to be seen, but those tears, more often than not, are accompanied by smiles, and many times, by words or signs of thanks. There is nothing quite like seeing a child stand by a sign cheering & thanking you for helping save his life.
There is a boy named Jack. If you've watched the NECN coverage of this event, you might have seen Jack on TV. Each year since he was two years old, Jack has been at the Nickerson SP waterstop, next to a sign that reads "I'm __ now, thanks to you." Last year, I believe he was 11 years old. It's the little (or big) things like that which really stick with you.
Karen's mother, Wanda, had cancer when she was in elementary school. As a child, Karen was shielded from the pain & the fear associated with her mother's illness, but looking back, it was a definitive life event, and it was hard on the rest of her family. Wanda continues to livestrong - some 20 years or so in remission, and it is partially in her honor that we ride.
When we first moved back to Massachusetts, we hadn't yet heard of the PMC. As fate would have it, the summer (2005), Ken's uncle Richard lost his battle with cancer at the end of July, and his services were held on the first weekend of August - the PMC weekend. We made the trek back to Hawaii for services that weekend, and would have had to miss the PMC anyway, had we planned to participate.
Ken and Uncle Richard were fairly close. Along with Ken's Aunt, they would take Ken, his sister, and sometimes his cousin on trips in the summer as children, which led to an atypically close relationship - almost like having a second set of parents. Even as an adult it is difficult to realize how quickly things can change and how quickly someone once seemingly invincible can disappear. The last time we had seen Uncle Richard was at Ken's grandfather's funeral, who had passed away from cancer in the fall of 2003. No one can see into the future, but I wish we had had more time to visit with him & Auntie that trip. It never even crossed our mind that he wouldn't still be there when we next went "home".
Ken's grandfather lost his battle with cancer in the fall of 2003. Papa, as he was known, had been asking for Ken to come visit during the last weeks of his life. Due to a military committment, Ken had to delay his trip home longer than anyone would have liked, but we were finally able to make arrangements to fly home to see Papa. We had family members tell Papa we were coming, to give him hope, and a reason to hang on a little longer if he so chose. But he couldn't. The night before we were to fly out, we received word that Papa had passed on. We didn't get to say goodbye. Suddenly our trip to visit had turned into a trip too late. We missed him literally by a matter of a day. It was told to us upon our arrival, that his last few hours were spent in and of hallucinations, and the last thing that Papa said to his son was that he was ready to go home (he was at home, but not the home he was talking about). When we got to Hawaii, at least we were able to help with the funeral preparations. We picked Papa up from the crematorium, and I can still feel the weight of his urn in my hands.
Cancer runs in both of our families. It also has affected a great many of our friends. To this end, we try to live a healthy lifestyle. We eat right, we eat organically when possible. We take care of our environment and limit what exposures to carcinogens we can. We wear sunscreen religiously. We don't smoke. We exercise - and by doing so, we raise money to fund cancer care and research to help others.
There is no way to turn back time and do things differently. But we can learn from our losses. We can also do our part to help avoid these situations in the future for other people. We can help create hope, and the PMC brings a great deal of hope to a great many people. There is nothing like spending a weekend riding with some 5,000 other riders who are all there for the same purpose. The hope that is generated in tremendous. I know the PMC is bittersweet for many, if not most, of it's participants and volunteers. There are a great many tears to be seen, but those tears, more often than not, are accompanied by smiles, and many times, by words or signs of thanks. There is nothing quite like seeing a child stand by a sign cheering & thanking you for helping save his life.
There is a boy named Jack. If you've watched the NECN coverage of this event, you might have seen Jack on TV. Each year since he was two years old, Jack has been at the Nickerson SP waterstop, next to a sign that reads "I'm __ now, thanks to you." Last year, I believe he was 11 years old. It's the little (or big) things like that which really stick with you.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Fundraising Update 6/22/08
On Friday, I received an email from a friend - she has sent in a $250 check to our PMC team. Very thoughtful of her, and we so appreciate it. Between this friend and my mom, we'll be up to about 15% of our goal once that check clears. We have a LONG way to go.
Nice Hills!
We had a nice little 26 mile ride yesterday, just Ken & I. It was hotter out than we expected - we later saw a bank sign that stated it was 87 degrees out - but it was still mighty fine out. We started our ride and headed up the first dreaded hill. Dreaded not so much because of it's size, but because we only ever ride up it completely cold - we are never warmed up before climbing the hill. About 30 seconds into the ride, we hear behind us "PMC, PMC" (we were wearing our jerseys), an lo and behold, here's Howie from the Nashoba Valley Pedalers. He tries to give us a card for the club, to which we sheepishly reply "we're already members" (we are - not a lie). And he asks "why aren't you riding with us, then?" Ahhh... peer pressure. Maybe we will someday. But fitting our weekend rides into someone else's schedule takes a little too much effort for us. It also seems silly to drive our bikes to a meeting spot just to ride by our house later in the day, and still have to go pick up the car. Besides, we had volunteer work to do yesterday morning, and we never quite know when we'll get home from that.
The first hill wasn't so bad, actually. Maybe its the new bike. But it was just easy, and Ken seemed to think so too - he caught up fairly quickly on the down hill. After getting into Harvard, we had to stop and stretch. I hate stopping for any reason, even to stretch, but I'm trying to take it easy on the shoulder, as I rather like using my right arm (I think my left arm actually belongs to someone else - or, someone else controls it for me, and they do a poor job). It kind of helped. Down the hill from Harvard center on our way to Littleton, I hit 39.8 MPH on my bike - this is the first time I really "get down" on my bike - into the drops, making as small of wind sail as possible. It was a long enough descent that I could play around with head position and elbow alignments and listen to the changes in the wind going by - the quieter, the more wedge shaped (at least by my figuring, which may be a complete lie). Needless to say, it was quite fun.
We stopped to stretch again in Littleton. At this point, I'm feeling like a complete Ninny for having to stretch all the time, but it was getting hard to turn my head to the left (which is where the traffic is). Back on the bike, back up the hill. It's a longish climb (compartively for this area) out of Littleton back into Harvard. But then again, ANY route into Harvard involves a climb. At any rate, when we stopped in Littleton, we were at 241 feet above sea level. When we were "up" in Harvard, we were at about 612 feet or so. It wasn't steep, but it goes on awhile.
We did, however, enjoy a lovely long down hill for what seemed like miles at Mile 16 (Stow Rd). The speed limit on this road is 25 MPH. I was going 28/29 MPH for a good long time (mentally yelling "Wheeeee!" the whole time). The beginning of this downhill is a 10% grade, then it levels off to 2% or 3% after a half-mile. Over all, the descent lasts about 2.5 miles. Not bad for these parts. I did, however, get passed by an inpatient SUV driver while I was going 5 MPH over the speed limit. So if I was speeding, how fast must that woman have been going to pass me on that narrow, winding road? I do believe I yelled "dumbass" at her. She deserved it.
It was a good ride, and the rest of it was more or less uneventful. Eventually I gave up on stretching, and just wanted to get home as fast as possible. So we picked it up after the final 2 hills. Every time I find a 25 MPH speed limit, it seems like a personal challenge (I hate rules). I did finally figure out how to comfortably sprint in the drops - a new skill for me - when Ken blew my doors off on a town line sprint (I didn't SEE it, and thus didn't know we were sprinting for it). I almost caught him - at 30MPH on a flat. Sprinting. In the drops. I'm sure there is a style rule against that. But hey- it seemed to work well.
1094 kcals burned in 1.75 hours. Not bad. I think Ken burned some 1500 kcals.
The first hill wasn't so bad, actually. Maybe its the new bike. But it was just easy, and Ken seemed to think so too - he caught up fairly quickly on the down hill. After getting into Harvard, we had to stop and stretch. I hate stopping for any reason, even to stretch, but I'm trying to take it easy on the shoulder, as I rather like using my right arm (I think my left arm actually belongs to someone else - or, someone else controls it for me, and they do a poor job). It kind of helped. Down the hill from Harvard center on our way to Littleton, I hit 39.8 MPH on my bike - this is the first time I really "get down" on my bike - into the drops, making as small of wind sail as possible. It was a long enough descent that I could play around with head position and elbow alignments and listen to the changes in the wind going by - the quieter, the more wedge shaped (at least by my figuring, which may be a complete lie). Needless to say, it was quite fun.
We stopped to stretch again in Littleton. At this point, I'm feeling like a complete Ninny for having to stretch all the time, but it was getting hard to turn my head to the left (which is where the traffic is). Back on the bike, back up the hill. It's a longish climb (compartively for this area) out of Littleton back into Harvard. But then again, ANY route into Harvard involves a climb. At any rate, when we stopped in Littleton, we were at 241 feet above sea level. When we were "up" in Harvard, we were at about 612 feet or so. It wasn't steep, but it goes on awhile.
We did, however, enjoy a lovely long down hill for what seemed like miles at Mile 16 (Stow Rd). The speed limit on this road is 25 MPH. I was going 28/29 MPH for a good long time (mentally yelling "Wheeeee!" the whole time). The beginning of this downhill is a 10% grade, then it levels off to 2% or 3% after a half-mile. Over all, the descent lasts about 2.5 miles. Not bad for these parts. I did, however, get passed by an inpatient SUV driver while I was going 5 MPH over the speed limit. So if I was speeding, how fast must that woman have been going to pass me on that narrow, winding road? I do believe I yelled "dumbass" at her. She deserved it.
It was a good ride, and the rest of it was more or less uneventful. Eventually I gave up on stretching, and just wanted to get home as fast as possible. So we picked it up after the final 2 hills. Every time I find a 25 MPH speed limit, it seems like a personal challenge (I hate rules). I did finally figure out how to comfortably sprint in the drops - a new skill for me - when Ken blew my doors off on a town line sprint (I didn't SEE it, and thus didn't know we were sprinting for it). I almost caught him - at 30MPH on a flat. Sprinting. In the drops. I'm sure there is a style rule against that. But hey- it seemed to work well.
1094 kcals burned in 1.75 hours. Not bad. I think Ken burned some 1500 kcals.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Shoulder pain & the "EMG Scan"
I had an EMG scan done today as part of a "checking out a new chiropractor" exam this morning. Part of my continuing "try to stop the pain in my shoulder" quest. This was after a 20 mile ride at 630 this morning (which contained hills at 9% and 11% grade, at times - a good ride).
This is my take from it: A normal, well adjusted, pain free person's scan would like the diagram in the upper Right corner. My scan is in the upper left corner. These two scans show how well the motor nerves are working (the guy held these little sensors to my skin all up and down my back, on either side of my spine). White means the nerves are working well; green means they are working slightly less well; blue is one degree worse than green; red is one degree worse than blue (and two worse than green); black is off the chart. You can see where I am off the chart - coincidentally, thats just below where my shoulder hurts. Just hearing the guy say "yea, your not making it up" - that was a nice vindication - I'm NOT crazy.
We also did the little dance of "on a scale of 1-10, 10 being the worst, how much has your shoulder hurt at its absolute worse?" I said 8. To which he replied - that might be a 10+ for other people. I like it when people realize that pain is a sliding scale. It means they aren't a complete idiot, which is always encouraging. But it also occurred to me - if last July wasn't a 10, then what is? I've done several things which MIGHT have been a 10, but I am convinced that there has to be pain worse than that out there. Maybe after childbirth I'll revisit the pain scale discussion.
The bottom left scan image shows where the muscles are straining the worst (while sitting down) - you can see how my back muscles on my left side are trying really hard to pull my hip back out (or maybe it is out, although I've gotten pretty good at noticing when it goes out). Interestingly, the two little green arrows on my right side are right in the area where the pain is. Then again, there are little green and blue arrows where nothing seems amiss to me at all.
They took some xrays today - it'll be interesting to see what they think of that. My Doc took xrays last summer right after the PMC (when my arm was really not working so well) & she told me I had a muscle strain gave me some pills which do help in extreme instances, but a half a pill knocks me out for a full day after taking it at night. I'd rather be in pain that semi-conscious. Unless, of course, I'm on a transcontinental flight, and then I'd rather be unconscious above all else.
It's funny though. I've noticed this phenomenon before - you never really FEEL the pain until someone else tells you that 'yea, that hurts for a reason.' Its much easier to put something out of your mind before someone else tells you how you should be feeling.
The saga continues...
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