In between much-needed meals at 4K For Cancer Training Weekend, The Ulman Cancer Fund's CEO Brock Yetso paid us a memorable visit. Every word that came out of his mouth held some serious weight, but one particular sentence that he so effortlessly strung together set the stage for the rest of this adventure. "This journey will not be glamorous", he stated with impressive honesty, "but it will be simple and powerful."
As much as we'll be sleeping on floors and washing our clothes in the shower, tanning in the most ridiculous of patterns and checking our chains instead of our e-mails, we'll be conquering mountains that once seemed impossible, hearing stories that will inspire strength, raising the funds to fight against this monster we call cancer, and changing lives by means of a unique currency: compassion. We're riding and serving each day remembering that Cancer Changes Lives & So Do We.Our jerseys, our directors, the people we'll meet and the stories we'll hear will serve as a constant reminder of this reality.
Training Weekend was tough; maybe not for everyone, but definitely for me. In the back of our minds, we knew that we were in a room full of good and giving people, and while that was comforting, we spent the first few days thinking about the role we'll play on a team with so much to accomplish. I was personally concerned about being the weakest link, holding people back, being so new to cycling and so new to physical challenges that my inabilities would overshadow the things that I am good at. I knew that I would be able to uplift and entertain my teammates. I knew I'd be able to make the ice cream cakes on birthdays, braid their hair before hot and sweaty rides, and doodle fun stuff on the windows of our cancer vans, but I truly did not know if who I was was enough to be integral to this team. I took the advice of some spunky and supportive alumni I had met, purposing to stay open-minded and vulnerable at all costs.
I was the first on my team of 23 to fall off my bike. The first to cause a collision. The first to cry in front of a crowd and the first to learn the awful consequences of dehydration. Where I should've been experiencing my normally overactive amounts of excitement and enthusiasm, I was instead feeling ashamed, embarrassed, and incapable. A piece of me knew that I would not survive this trip if I spent 70 days entertaining self-doubt. I did as I was told - let each day be a new day - and have since made great progress.
I hit my first big obstacle the night before Send Off. After a few hours in Urgent Care and an unfortunate $120 charge, I officially showed up to the 4K diagnosed with bronchitis and a slew of other inconvenient illnesses. Regardless, we woke up at 4:30am, packed our duffles full of bike gear and made our way to the Inner Harbor where all four teams of riders would gather for the ceremonial dipping of our tires in an East Coast body of water.
I was the first on my team of 23 to fall off my bike. The first to cause a collision. The first to cry in front of a crowd and the first to learn the awful consequences of dehydration. Where I should've been experiencing my normally overactive amounts of excitement and enthusiasm, I was instead feeling ashamed, embarrassed, and incapable. A piece of me knew that I would not survive this trip if I spent 70 days entertaining self-doubt. I did as I was told - let each day be a new day - and have since made great progress.
I hit my first big obstacle the night before Send Off. After a few hours in Urgent Care and an unfortunate $120 charge, I officially showed up to the 4K diagnosed with bronchitis and a slew of other inconvenient illnesses. Regardless, we woke up at 4:30am, packed our duffles full of bike gear and made our way to the Inner Harbor where all four teams of riders would gather for the ceremonial dipping of our tires in an East Coast body of water.
The location was calming, the speakers were inspiring, and the support of the community was empowering. It was surely a morning to remember.
Due to the nature of my illness, I spent the first few days in the van. You would think that van-duty would be less stressful than riding your bike 4000 miles across the country, but I assure you, it's not. We have millions of binders and boxes and balls to juggle between side-walk chalking the route for the day, setting up water stops for the team along the way, fielding texts and calls and and real-food withdrawals, and keeping calm when no one has cell service. I'd go as far to say that adrenaline levels while on van-duty are almost equivalent to flying down the steep declines of the Appalachian Mountains. You always have to be on your game and you can never get too comfortable.
Luckily, us van people still get to experience the wonderful views and the exciting element of teamwork. I've been overwhelmingly impressed with the quality of people on my team and the values upon which we've built our team dynamic. People's uniquenesses are thoroughly celebrated and people's ideas are entertained. We care more about passion and progress than we do about performance, and the encouragement never ceases. We really seem to have each other backs and best interest in mind. We really seem to know why we're here. And most importantly, we really seem to care about what it is we're doing and the impact it will have on this world.
So far, my experience has been both simple and powerful, just like Brock said it would be. Day 1, we traveled from Baltimore, MD to York, PA, dodging thunder storms, seeing a surplus of house-trained goats, and keeping our eye on the prize. We enjoyed a beautiful barbecue dinner courtesy of the American Red Cross and crushed dozens of the best banana cupcakes you've ever had. We were so exhausted and anxious for Day 2 that we skipped the Game of Thrones premier and went right to sleep, praying that we'd wake up something less-than-sore and ready for a big Day 2.
So far, my experience has been both simple and powerful, just like Brock said it would be. Day 1, we traveled from Baltimore, MD to York, PA, dodging thunder storms, seeing a surplus of house-trained goats, and keeping our eye on the prize. We enjoyed a beautiful barbecue dinner courtesy of the American Red Cross and crushed dozens of the best banana cupcakes you've ever had. We were so exhausted and anxious for Day 2 that we skipped the Game of Thrones premier and went right to sleep, praying that we'd wake up something less-than-sore and ready for a big Day 2.
Day 2, we made it from York to Shippensburg, overcoming a couple of big hills, a park that smelled like straight dog food, and a lot of sharp turns that were hard to follow. We broke up the day with some good ol' fun and games; playing on the playground, constructing flower crowns to spruce up our helmets, and even making PB&J sandwiches at the crest of the mountain.
We spent a lovely night in Shippensberg at a church with lots of food and a REAL LIFE TOASTER. We'd been eating everything-bagels and honey BBQ flavored Kind Bars for every meal, every day, and were so excited for a change of pace. We were also blessed with some nice hot showers, courtesy of the town university.
We woke up bright and early around 5:15am, blasted the Drake song with the least amount of swear words, and got down to business; packing the vans, getting our calories, and finishing our last minute chores. Day 3 was my first official day off van-duty, so I was stoked to finally be on my bike. Day 3 would take us 93 miles through the Appalachian Mountains from Shippensburg to State College, PA. Alumni warned us it was by far one of the toughest days we'd come across, and they were right. I stopped about 7 miles in after my bronchitis started acting up, and resumed my place in the van, disappointed and unsure of myself. Though it took a bit of personal pep-talking, I made it back on the road for a much longer stretch. The end of the day brought a scenic view and a whole lot to be proud of. In three short days, I've grown to take immense pride in this organization, these people, and the amazing accomplishments that we've already seen and will continue to see.
Everything from our morning Dedication Circles
to the spontaneous strangers birthdays that we celebrate,
from the ways we build friendships, to the crazy things we substitute for spoons...
These are the things that keep us going.
Day 4 brought us a much-needed rest day in State College, PA. We ate at a waffle house, saw some impressive murals, and took dozens of naps. We explored the city, searched high and low for stickers in which to start covering our bikes, and destroyed the many batches of brownies our host was kind enough to bake for us.
So far, life as a 4K-er is equally as challenging as it is empowering. To say the least, I can't get enough of it. This is exactly where I'm supposed to be right now. The next few days will hold some really tough inclines, some clever music videos produced as spin-offs of today's hit songs, and likely a few more additions to the list of absurd things we're trying to get donated to the team. Stayed tuned for Week 2. At this rate, it promises to be better than the first!
Oh - and don't forget to donate!
http://4kforcancer.org/profiles/halle-prentice/
Oh - and don't forget to donate!
http://4kforcancer.org/profiles/halle-prentice/
This post is dedicated to our beloved teammate, Jen. Though you may not be here in body, you're here in spirit. We ride every day for you. #14 in the circle, #1 in our hearts.