So, why cycling?

There is no succinct answer to this. Alluded to in the preface, while in Hawaii on vacation, I became motivated to take on a new challenge.

I had seen firsthand those raising money for causes they cared about, and work done to not be defined by conditions.

I once again drew on inspiration from my mom, who before her stroke (continued after as well) devoted herself to volunteering. She was constantly giving back to people what she could, which often could only be time, inconveniencing herself to benefit others. This sense of community devotion, from work sponsored events, to school fundraising, even including driving the town field light manager to his appointments was instilled in me and my sister from a very young age.

Missing from the long open was a mention of my grandfather. This man has been through more with his health than medical records can handle. Hospitals he goes to must have separate filing cabinets for him. Melanoma, Prostate, Kidney, and thyroid cancer. Coma, lacerations doing dumb shit in the yard. Some sort of blood clot in his brain. He once took an edible, thought he was having a stroke, and was going to “call the doctor in the morning.” While I might not wait to call the doctor (or forgot I took an edible), an aspect I admire about him is you would never know. The spirit which he continues to engage with life, and rip on Boston sports teams is one you’d expect from someone who hadn’t been knocked down by life a number of times. Point is, he has endured so much, given so much to those he loves while asking nothing in return. While he might not be as warm and fuzzy as our grandmother, he certainly mirrors her grace, pride, and philanthropy for family.

My grandmother has all of the qualities you seek in an admirable person. She would giver the shirt off her back for anyone. There isn’t a malicious fiber in her body, and together, her and my grandfather have instilled a culture of kindness, excellence, and humility. Herself, though, is tough as nails. An image and tongue you might call stereotypical of Dorchester, and an index finger you don’t want wagging in your direction.

The two of them have persevered through life’s toughest challenges, and navigated many a sticky situation. Upon reflecting on all this goodwill around me in my formative years, it became clear that I wanted to give back to the community that I had so unceremoniously joined. The question became, how?

Well, in short order the options for fundraising are centered around walking and running. In Massachusetts, however, there is another option. I had loved biking when I was younger. In middle school up until freshman year of college, until some drunk menace at UMass decided to pry my Trek mountain bike away from me, I had biked quite frequently. I was transportation first off, but secondarily it was excellent exercise for hockey.

I began looking into the Pan-Mass challenge. Frankly, I had an inkling that the PMC was related to Dana Farber Cancer Institute, but I didn’t know the two were joined at the hip. Shoot. I couldn’t raise money for type one diabetes research and ride in the PMC. For a first event as well, it would be quite daunting: nearly 200 miles over two days. I didn’t even own a bike at this time, and i was getting way ahead of myself.

Surely, there must be some diabetic cycling event? Luckily for me there was.

Formerly known as the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, the Breakthrough T1D Ride to Cure diabetes seemed to be exactly what I was looking for. And it was much more modest of an event to sign up for. Lower fundraising minimums, one day, and a community devoted to type one diabetics. If there was a setting that I was going to succeed in this first endeavor it was going to be this.

One question lingered as I flirted with signing up for the event. The distances came in 25, 50, 62, and 100 mile offerings. I really had no idea what it was like to ride 100 miles. Out of all of those distances, I had only done 25 miles, and as far as I could recall once with my dad in Cape Cod. I was drawn to the 100 mile option from the get-go. It felt ambitious, But it also felt attainable.

Before I could overthink myself out of it all together, I signed up for the 100 mile entry, committed to my fundraising goal and began writing about my journey. And with that, I had entered my first biking event, setting the bar quite high for myself, just in the span of a few sunny days. I suppose not working does that to some.

From what I can remember, the next steps happened pretty quickly. The day after I flew home from Hawaii, I went to the local bike shop, which for me was Landry’s on Comm Ave. I walked in, and met what I thought was going to be my sister’s future husband after our time together, Corbin.

I told Corbin that I knew next to nothing about bikes, and what I had signed myself up for. Luckily, it was a slow winter day and he had all the time in the world to give me a crash course on bikes. I rode cheap ones, I rode really expensive ones. I rode gravel bikes and road bikes. I rode a lot of bikes that day. Before going in, being the way that I am, I had done some research on the prices. It is a staggering range. you can get a capable bike for $1000. Or you can unload $12,000 easily. With my budget in mind, I began to zero in on a few models. One Specialized road bike for $1000, or a Trek for $2500. It was mind-numbing to me (oh, just you wait for future blogs to when you meet Steve) to spend a months rent on a bike. After-all I wasn’t really sure if I enjoyed this enlisted hobby. I asked Corbin about what made the Trek worth that much more. I had ridden both, and the Trek was far more comfortable, and absorbed shock much better just in the parking lot. The Specialized hurt my bum just going over asphalt patches in the back of the store. I could fathom what a pothole would do to me. My own psychology was interfering, however. I knew it was the nicer bike, so it couldn’t escape me that I was falling victim to a placebo. Corbin explained to me the scientific rationale for what I was experiencing. And to his credit, he also explained that anything above this level I was going to be acquiring features outside the scope of what you’d want/need in your first serious foray to the sport. Before I left, he offered me $300 off the sticker price, and I said I would think about it.

When I got home, I called Landry’s up, spoke to Corbin, and in short order was the owner of a 2023 Trek Checkpoint ALR 5, which I have affectionately named George. George and I have done 5000+ miles together, indoors and out. Good and bad. But it has been an amazing experience, and I’ve learned so much about cycling, fitness, nutrition, recovery, hydration, fundraising, maintenance, but most importantly: Myself.