PMC 2011 Passenger Profile: Wehlan McPherson, my dad.

I started this "passenger" thing a few years ago for a couple of reasons: 

• it allows me a sort of symbolic way to share that special weekend in August with people who can't be there.
• it helps me stay focused on the fact that even though it's a 2-day bike ride, it's really not about a bike ride at all.  And finally, 
• it gives you (yes, I am talking to you) an opportunity to share your story, too.  

That said, my first "official" passenger for my 2011 PMC ride this year is my dad, Wehlan McPherson.   Daddy died in January of this year.  He struggled with chronic pain from Lupus for years, and was only diagnosed with lung cancer in January after it had already metastasized to his bones.  He died soon after.

Daddy was always "prone to action" -- which may just be a nice way of saying "impulsive".  When Daddy saw something he thought needed doing,  it chafed him if it remained undone... so he would just *do it* -- sometimes with more planning than others.  Results may not have always been perfect, but in the final analysis, things got done.  

There are countless other reasons why I want to remember Daddy and take him as a passenger on this year's PMC.  However, in the interest of brevity  [you're welcome],  I believe the main reason is this: his memory reminds me how vitally important it is for each of us to actually act, as opposed to just wishing that we or someone else would.   I don't know who said it originally, but I've heard that "...the world is changed by those who show up".   Daddy reminds me to keep showing up.  So, thanks for that, Dad.  And welcome aboard.

Call for passengers for this year's PMC...

Listen up!   I'm reprising my call for "passengers" to take along on this year's PMC.    (See my original post from 2009 for background.)    If there's someone you know or love that's a cancer survivor, is currently fighting cancer or that you've lost to cancer, I'd like to help you honor them by taking their picture along with me on this year's ride.

So, please don't be shy.  Send me a picture and a word or two about your special person.   Over the next 3 months I'll be posting "passenger profiles" here on this blog and will also carry them along with me on the bike on PMC weekend as my "passengers". That way, they can enjoy the Big Ride, too.

If you like, you can see my 2010 passengers online here, and my 2009 passengers here.

Hope to hear from you soon!

/doug

First *real* ride of the season! Come on Spring!!

Just back from a FULL out-n-back up the Nashua River Rail Trail.  What a day for a ride!

Believe it or not, north of Groton, there's still patches of snow and ice across the trail.   I actually saw someone wipe out on one of the packed-snow patches... not pretty, but they were OK.

All the fallen trees from the winter have been cleared from the trail, and the peepers (little frogs) were out in fine form (and LOUD) as I rode through the swamp near Groton.   There was still a lot of winter detritus, twigs and junk on most of the trail from Groton up to Pepperell.  In spite of that,  there were an awful lot of roller bladers out on the trail.  That couldn't be very much fun rollerblading with all that junk on the (otherwise smooth) trail.  

Most memorable event from today's ride was the girl's roller derby team I passed (both ways).  There was about a half dozen of them out, in full pads & helmets apparently on a group skate.  They were impressive.  I'll assume the one with the most tattoos was the team captain.  ;-)    They looked like they were having a good time.

So, a nice 36mi ride today; the Red Sox won their season opener at Fenway yesterday.  So things are starting to pick up around here.  Come on, Spring!

/doug

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

Happy Thanksgiving Day

Today is January 1, 2011 and it’s Thanksgiving Day.


At around 11 AM today I was standing in the front doorway of my house, still in my pajama pants, unshaven and maybe just a teensy bit hung-over.  It was sunny and mild with about 8 inches of snow on the ground. I was holding Zack, our orange cat, and reaching for my coffee when it hit me:  I was really happy.   More than just happy, though: I was glad to be where I was -- right here, right now.   No wait.  It was more than that. I felt thankful -- almost literally “full of thanks,” with no room for anything else right then.  That was it: thankful.  It came at me from out of nowhere.


It’s a little weird -- and it may be due to my faulty memory -- but I really don’t recall experiencing that feeling quite so strongly... not even on the last Thursday in November, when we set aside a full day for that express purpose.   Standing there in my PJs and looking out at my neighborhood, I was really and truly glad to be right here, right now.  I know I was “full of thanks” right then because at 48 years old, I decided that I was also thankful for each and every one of the “bad” things I've seen or lived through up to now.  Standing here in my doorway on New Year’s Day, even those things that once seemed so horrible or painful looked a little different with 1, 5 or 25 years behind them...  I was standing here now, feeling happy and healthy, either because of or in spite of all of them.


So, today was really my personal Thanksgiving Day.  Like I said, I can’t recall feeling this way too many times in my life and I didn't want to forget this, so decided I would make myself write this down and put it somewhere so I can remind myself from time to time.  (If you’re reading this, then apparently I actually did.)  I first started to write down the things I was thankful for, but that started to get a little silly so I deleted that and started over.  The one thing I wanted to remember most was how I felt today.   So, hopefully when I read this later, it won’t seem silly or vain and I’ll get to remember and relive that thankful feeling again.  And to anyone else who might read this: it is my sincere New Year's wish that you might also get to have a few extra, unexpected "personal Thanksgiving Days" this year.


Thanks (really).
Me.

It's official: PMC 2010 raised $33 million for the Jimmy Fund

The check was awarded tonight for this year's PMC, and the final amount was $33 million -- 2.6 million more than last year.

Thanks very much to all of those people who supported me or other riders on this year's PMC.

You can read the press release at http://www.pmc.org/  or at WBUR's web site: http://www.wbur.org/2010/11/12/pan-massachusetts-challenge-donates.

You'll all be hearing from me again next year for PMC 2011.

/doug