First ride of 2011: Knocking the rust off...

"Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of a bike ride." -- John F. Kennedy

I got on the bike this afternoon and took a short shake-down ride out to the Nashua River Rail Trail today. It's been 3 months (just about to the day) since I was last out on the bike, and I have to say it felt really good to be out on the road.   The R40 was in pretty good shape for being neglected for 3 months: just sticky shifter and brake cables.  I was the only thing that was "rusty".

The ride was just a quick 16 mile "out-n-back" to the rail trail.  I'd hoped to ride up the trail a little ways, but I was overly optimistic: there were still large stretches of the rail trail that were covered in snow -- unridable (at least for me).   So, I noodled around the backroads from Ayer back to Littleton, soaking up the afternoon sun and trying to stretch out my legs a little.   Not my biggest ride. Not my fastest ride.  But it was a such a great feeling to be out on the bike with the wind in my face again, I'll count it as a superlative start as my first ride of 2011.

Hopefully I'll be back to biking to work again this next week.

When wishing is not enough...

Round about New Year's Day of this year I decided that 2011 was going to be a great year.   At the time, it was mostly just a sort of "decision" I'd made, based on some sort of inward exuberance... as if I could just will my decision into reality.  Right.  Wishing always works, doesn't it?

As it turns out, this year didn't start off as well as I'd wished:  my grandmother passed away in early January, followed by my dad just a few weeks later.  Dad had been diagnosed with Lupus several years ago, but apparently had also had (for want of a better word) latent lung cancer.  It seems that his cancer symptoms had been masked by conditions attributable to his Lupus, or potential side-effects of the many medications he was on for it.  By the time they detected and diagnosed Dad's lung cancer, it had already metastasized to his bones.  Dad died within a week of the cancer diagnosis.  I don't know if it was the cancer that killed him.   I don't guess it makes much difference.  Nobody could wish it away.

At one time or another, we've all said words to the effect of how we "...wish we'd [done something or other]..." or  "wished that [something or other]  hadn't happened."  It's really just a way we humans have of expressing regret or sympathy.  Inside, we all know that wishing will never change what's past.  And here's the thing: not only does wishing not change the past, wishing alone can never, ever shape our future.  To be clear: for our wishes and dreams to be made real, they also require our action.  So while I wish that my dad was still alive, he's not and there's nothing I can do to change that. However, what I will do is always remember what was best in him and use my actions to carry those things forward into the world.

So I will continue to wish for a world where people don't have to needlessly suffer cancer,  and I will act to make that world real. I will do that just as I have done for the last 8 years: by relentlessly cajoling everyone I know to sponsor me on the Pan Mass Challenge: a 2-day, 192-mile bike ride to raise money for cancer research and treatment.  I will continue to ride in support of cancer survivors, in memory of its victims and to help the researchers and doctors searching for a cure and more effective treatments.

Please join me in making 2011 a truly great year: take action on your wishes.

/doug