Meet Kelly

Please meet Kelly Westbrook Moore. Kelly is currently going through chemotheraphy,  following recent surgery for colon cancer. Kelly will be a new passenger with me on this year's PMC.

Kelly the teacher.

Kelly and ZuZu

I grew up with Kelly in Hallsville, TX, She's been a teacher for the last 32 years and married to Mark Moore for over 30 years.  She and Mark have 3 beautiful daughters, Brook, Madison and Holly -- and a cute little Shitzu/Dachsund named ZuZu. 

Although her last name is now Moore,  I'll always think of her as Kelly Westbrook. Kelly was 2 years ahead of me in school and a classmate with my sister, Bonnie. I got to know Kelly mostly from our time together in High School Band. 

Kelly's Senior pic from my yearbook.

The very first rock-n-roll band I ever played in practiced at Kelly's house. That's notable  because nobody in her family was actually in our band -- her parents just let 4 kids come into their house and make noise...  (That should be a "tell" that there's a generous streak that runs through Kelly's family...)  My memory of the Westbrook kids is that they were all a very outgoing bunch, full of joie de vivre -- and Kelly is no exception. 

Check out the medals!

I haven't seen Kelly in decades, but I can picture her clear as day. And I can't conjure up a single memory of Kelly where she's not laughing out loud about one thing or another. I went to an old yearbook to look for some pictures and found a few of my favorite "Kelly pics" that I'll just share here...

One of my favorite yearbook pictures of Kelly.

And while all that yearbook trolling was extremely entertaining for me, I have to confess that my new favorite picture of Kelly is the one below, which I found on her Facebook page.

I couldn't find the artist's name, but it's apparently one of Kelly's students. I never really knew what Kelly's super power was until now.  But I'd also be surprised if that were her only super power.

So I am proud and honored to take Kelly -- a bona fide superhero -- along with my other passengers on this year's PMC.

Kelly, when you read this I hope that I haven't written anything here that embarrassed you. And I hope that maybe I even made you laugh a little-- just like I remember. That would make me happy. That'll be your another of your super powers.

Maddy, Miss A and Nicole

I just realized that I always seem to lead off my posts with a quote or an apology.

Sorry about that.

But seriously, I've been really remiss on fund- and awareness-raising for this year's PMC ride. For me, writing comes hard and procrastination is second-nature, so I'll just apologize for not being more communicative and get on with it. Sorry. Really.

Wheels are still turning, both figuratively and literally for this year's PMC... I've been on the bike every day back and forth to work, but only a few 40-mile rides so far this season. I'm anxious to get at 70-miler in this weekend and the weather looks promising. I'm so fortunate to live in a region where there are so many scenic places to bike -- and tons of routes that I can start by riding out my driveway.

Princess Aurora, my passenger on last year's PMC, happened to be here in my basement lair as I was typing this up, so I took a picture of us both.

Me and Miss A

"Miss A" rode along with me last year as a nod to another Princess, Madison Ward.  Right now, Maddy is back for her 2nd trip to St. Judes in Memphis, TN getting another cycle of chemo. Last year, when I first posted about Maddy, she had just turned 5 and it was her first trip to St. Jude's. 

I have watched this brave little girl from afar for almost 2 years now... watched her endure multiple cycles of chemo and radiation treatments. I've seen her lose her hair, grow it back, then lose it again. But I've never seen her quit. And you better believe that Maddy's family hasn't quit. So why would I? How could I not keep doing the PMC?   And how could I leave Princess Aurora behind ? So I'll be riding with Miss A and for Maddy again this year.

Nicole Rasile McPherson is another person I was riding for on last year's PMC. Nicole is  my cousin Dusty's wife and was diagnosed with stage 4 Hodgkins Lymphoma a little over 3 years ago.  Here's a picture of Nicole and Dusty from 2014.

Dusty and Nicole 

I opted to not post the picture of Dusty in the "chemo wig". You're welcome, Dusty.

I will be riding the PMC for Nicole again this year, but this time it will be in celebration!  After multiple rounds of chemo/radiation and 2 stem cell transplants, she's finally got a clean bill of health: no signs of cancer! All clear!

So while I may have been slow on the blog posts this year (and the bike, too, for that matter), and while I may complain to Sandy about my knees, I will not stop. How could I?

Breakthroughs are being made every day, and treatments are getting more humane and effective. With your help, we'll beat this. It's not impossible. And that brings me to a closing quote from a great man.

Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion.
Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare.
Impossible is potential.
Impossible is temporary.
Impossible is nothing.
-- Muhammad Ali

Better Noun Than Verb

"The capacity for hope is the most significant fact of life. It provides human beings with a sense of destination and the energy to get started." 

-- Norman Cousins

I was out on a nice long ride yesterday.  One of the things I enjoy most about biking is the time it gives me to think freely and widely about whatever my random synapses cook up.  Somewhere in that free-associating twisty corn maze of bike reverie, the word "hope" got stuck in my head -- how and why we use this word, and what it means.  I wanted to write it down here before I forgot...

When I think of all the times I've read, heard and used the word hope as a noun, it feels powerful and resonates with me deeply.  When I think of the same word used as a verb, it feels a little... I don't know.. inadequate.

For example:

"Hope" as a noun:

• When you give hope --well then, that's a wonderful thing.
• When you have hope -- now that can be a powerful thing.

"Hope" as a verb:

• When you hope...  well OK. Then what?  

And then it hit me: that is what's kept me doing this whole PMC thing for the last 13 years.  I feel a damn sight better (? empowered ?)  by doing something more than just hoping.   So for me, the act of hoping is vital ingredient -- but it ain't the whole enchilada.

• Cycling to raise money for cancer research and treatment gives me great hope that we will find a cure for cancer -- and soon.  
• When I see actually see thousands of others working and biking with me on the PMC, it magnifies that hope.
• When I meet the people whose lives are being extended and saved by new and improved cancer treatments, my hope grows even more.

See, I do have hope. So much hope.

But it's only through our actions that we grow and spread that hope (noun), not by hoping (verb) alone.

Anyway, that's what was on my mind yesterday morning.   ;-)
/doug

Meet Maddy

This is Madison Burt.  Maddy just turned 5 years old last week.   Maddy will be a special "passenger" for me on this year's Pan Mass Challenge for the Jimmy Fund - "the PMC".

A while back, Maddy was diagnosed with brain cancer: a group 4 desmoplastic medulloblastoma, to be specific. Maddy's been undergoing treatment for her cancer at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital in Tennessee for several weeks now.  She's just now finishing up her 4th round of chemo at St. Judes's and will be headed down to FL to regroup and start radiation treatments.

My sister and nephew live just down the street from Maddy's grandparents and put me in touch with Maddy's mom, Jessica, a little while back. Jessica has been by her little girl's side through every second of this -- and with a lot of support from her friends and family.  Jessica and I exchanged a few messages, but mostly I just follow Maddy's experiences through her mom's Facebook posts.  I confess I do feel like a bit of a Nosey Nellie following Jessica's posts -- a well-intentioned "facebook stalker", I guess.

See, Maddy and I have never met; I've just been watching her story unfold from afar. It's made me laugh, and it's made me well up with tears something fierce from time to time. (Her recent run-in with C-Diff --a GI tract bacterial infection --  during her last round of chemo was just terrifying for me. I cannot imagine how inside-out her family was during that time.)  I respect Jessica so much for having the courage to share so much with me. Sometimes it was hard to read and see some of those pictures of a frail little Maddy. But hard as that can be, sometimes seeing that sort of thing does something to you: it galvanizes you -- makes you act.  Hopefully.

As I write this, I'm recalling that I posted something about "not looking away" here, about a year ago.  <pauses editing to find article.>  Here it is:  http://my-pmc.blogspot.com/2014/06/bill-and-melinda-gates-2014.html

Here's the 'centerpiece' quote from Melinda Gates from last June, in case you don't want to read the post or watch the video:

"In the course of your lives, you'll come to see suffering that will break your heart. When it happens, and it will, don't turn away from it. Turn toward it. That is the moment that change is born."
...
"No matter how much suffering we see -- no matter how bad it is -- we can help people if we don't lose hope, and if we don't look away."

So I have not lost hope. In fact I'm more hopeful now than ever before. But while I am hopeful, I'm also thankful. I'm thankful that I can actually do more than just hope. I've been doing this "PMC thing" for the last 12 years and make no mistake: we are making a difference. The research that's been going on at Dana-Farber has been paid for in large part by the fund-raising that PMC riders have been doing. The immunotherapy research being done at Dana-Farber and elsewhere is now yielding some really promising results. Thanks to the doctors and scientists at Dana-Farber, people (including little boys and girls like Maddy) will soon be able to receive drug therapies targeted to kill cancer, without poisoning the rest of their bodies. I wish that these therapies were available NOW, especially for little Maddy, but they are coming and I have great hope.

I hope I actually get to meet Maddy and her mom in person someday soon.  If I do, I hope it doesn't weird them out.  [I hope I can keep my shit together long enough to not ugly-cry.]  It would mean a lot to tell Maddy, in person, just how privileged I am to meet her and how much I admire her bravery and her mom's generosity of spirit. That will be a Good Day.

If you're still reading this, I only ask that you also would do more than just hope: you can join with us and fight cancer with your generous donation to this year's Pan Mass Challenge. This will be my 12th year to ride and raise money for this cause and I sincerely hope that you will sponsor me with your online donation here: http://www.pmc.org/dm0192   100% of your tax-deductible donation goes directly to Dana-Farber to support their work in cancer research and treatment.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you can help.
/doug

PMC Presents Check for $41M to the Jimmy Fund for 2014

Yesterday at Fenway Park,  we announced the final numbers for PMC 2014 and presented the check to the Jimmy Fund for $41 million -- exceeding our 2014 goal by $1 million.   

First of all, I want to thank everyone who has supported me or any other PMC rider this year, enabling us to make such a great contribution to cancer research and treatment.   I just cannot say that enough: Thank you.  You can see a very nice video online here: http://vimeo.com/111229373.  It's about 4 minutes long, but worth watching.

I didn't attend the check presentation, but I did read the press release, and even saw it on the TV news.  Each year I'm still impressed by the numbers that get thrown out there:  5,500 cyclists, 3000+ volunteers, more than a million miles pedaled that weekend -- all to raise money to fight cancer.   

The problem is big.

The more I read the press releases and news about PMC, one thing hits me:  The numbers I keep seeing are just so big. This disease we call cancer is so diverse, pernicious and multi-headed.   Every once and a while the magnitude of the whole thing swells up in front of me -- and honestly,  I experience a bit of a (for lack of a better phrase) crisis of faith.  ("How much more can we do?  How much longer?  Are we really helping?").

But the answer lies in the small numbers.

Mercifully, when those 'big number worries' begin forming that cloud of self-doubt, it's the tiny number, one, that dissipates it for me every time: One.  Of all the thousands of riders and volunteers, each one has his or her own very personal reason for being part of the PMC's mission against cancer. By the same token, each one of you that's supported a PMC rider with your donations has your own very personal reasons for joining in the fight. So even though the numbers in this fight against cancer look so big,  I believe that we will find the solution in the one.   

Have you ever seen one of those computer-generated photo mosaics? It's one of those things where the main image (usually something singular and immediately-recognizable) is actually composed by piecing together thousands of other uniqe online images as its constituent pixels (or "metapixels")?

That is the way I envision the fight against cancer, the PMC's mission, my role in it -- and yours.   Every single one of us, taken individually, has been touched by this disease in some way.  Each person's passion to fight is fired differently -- but it still burns.   And when we unify each of our unique passions, we can achieve things far greater than we might otherwise imagine.

Getting ready for Round 36...

So even though the numbers and the problems before us are big -- I choose to believe that it's a relatively small, simple thing that will ultimately get us to a win against cancer.   So, whatever your reasons are for supporting the PMC -- as a sponsor, a rider or a volunteer -- I cannot thank you enough.   It's a fight, but when we unite and fight together we will win. This will probably be my last PMC post for 2014, but you will all be hearing from me again next year. 

/doug