OK...you are all amazing! I set out to raise some money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The minimum amount that I need to participate is $2400. I set my sights a little higher and put $3000 as my goal on the fundraising website. In my heart, I believed that I would raise even more than that, maybe $5000. Fast forward to today...you all have donated over SIX THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS (and with pledges, we are at $7400). How amazing is that!!!
I find myself stunned, proud, humbled, and downright gleeful. All my life, I have wanted to be someone who makes a difference in the world, but somehow have been scared to go out there and do it. I now see that I didn't need to be scared, and I didn't need to do it alone. Together, we are making a difference. Together, we can change the world. I really believe that. If we set our intention and believe in it, the world we desire will come to be. Give yourself a hug, be proud and know that I am so grateful!
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
The Deluge and the Photo Editor
I think that Adam has forgiven me. He's talking to me at least! Last weekend (as our street was flooding from the deluge of rain and he was helping me get my biking stuff together for my weekly ride) he pleaded with me to take photos of the team standing around in the downpour, in our matching jerseys, getting ready for our ride. I think that maybe he wishes that he were a photo journalist. I promised.
When I got to Monterey to start the ride, you could see blue skies in Carmel and not a drop of rain to be felt. I figured that meant I was off the hook. My photo editor disagreed. So...look for photos in the future!
The ride itself was great. Perfect weather (not too hot, not too cold), an occasional blustery breeze to bring me to the present (if I had started daydreaming), a bike path that winds along the Pacific Ocean. We are inching our way towards our 100 mile goal. Our first week, we rode 15 miles in the Santa Cruz hills. This last ride was a rolling 20. The days in between, we are on our own (but expected to train 6 of 7 days- biking and doing strengthening excercises).
Next week, we ride up the coast along Hwy 1 to a sweet little town called Davenport (26 miles, all told). Maybe it will rain and Adam will get his photos!!
When I got to Monterey to start the ride, you could see blue skies in Carmel and not a drop of rain to be felt. I figured that meant I was off the hook. My photo editor disagreed. So...look for photos in the future!
The ride itself was great. Perfect weather (not too hot, not too cold), an occasional blustery breeze to bring me to the present (if I had started daydreaming), a bike path that winds along the Pacific Ocean. We are inching our way towards our 100 mile goal. Our first week, we rode 15 miles in the Santa Cruz hills. This last ride was a rolling 20. The days in between, we are on our own (but expected to train 6 of 7 days- biking and doing strengthening excercises).
Next week, we ride up the coast along Hwy 1 to a sweet little town called Davenport (26 miles, all told). Maybe it will rain and Adam will get his photos!!
Riding for Dad
It’s January. In my dad’s world, that means just one thing….Football. Doesn’t matter that his beloved 49ers have been terrible for the past bunch of years, his weekends will still be all-day football events. With his trusty Pro Football Weekly and clipboard within arms' reach, he watches - sometimes with my brother at his side, sometimes with a miscellany of grandkids at his feet, sometimes alone. So normal and yet…extraordinary.
Extraordinary because he has multiple myeloma – an incurable blood cancer that stealthily invades bones, creating painful tumors and messing with the production of blood and immunoglobulins (important parts of the immune system).
Extraordinary because two years ago, he couldn’t walk, was in excruciating pain and spent 22-23 hours a day sleeping (from pain medication, radiation and an assortment of other drugs to help with nausea, pain and to treat the cancer itself).
Extraordinary because by most counts, he shouldn’t be here; his cancer was found when it had already infiltrated 70% of his bones.
As I reflect on how amazing his recovery has been, I know that I owe a debt of gratitude to every person who has ever written a check to organizations like the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (Dad’s cancer falls within their scope). Simply put, my dad wouldn’t be here but for their generosity. Their contributions (totaling $500 million since 1988) have helped develop the amazing treatments that allow my dad this time to live his wonderful and normal life, surrounded by his family who loves him so much.
I sometimes picture him, like the winning coach at the end of a come-from-behind, nail-biting, edge-of-your-seat game. (Feel free to insert your own hyphenated phrase that implies doing something against all odds or that resonates with the feeling of sitting by and watching helplessly as someone else struggles and wins). He’s held in the air, arms above his headin a sign of victory...supported by the countless people who have helped fund blood cancer research.
And…I realize that it is time for me to join the countless. On June 3, 2007, I will be riding my bike around Lake Tahoe (100 miles in a day) with thousands of other Team in Training participants to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. This one is for my dad and for all of those coping with blood cancer; and in the hopes of someday, finally, finding a cure.
Anyone interested in joining my team, please visit my donation website.
http://www.active.com/donate/tntsvmb/tntsvmbRYarme
Oh, and Go Niners (next season, that is!).
Extraordinary because he has multiple myeloma – an incurable blood cancer that stealthily invades bones, creating painful tumors and messing with the production of blood and immunoglobulins (important parts of the immune system).
Extraordinary because two years ago, he couldn’t walk, was in excruciating pain and spent 22-23 hours a day sleeping (from pain medication, radiation and an assortment of other drugs to help with nausea, pain and to treat the cancer itself).
Extraordinary because by most counts, he shouldn’t be here; his cancer was found when it had already infiltrated 70% of his bones.
As I reflect on how amazing his recovery has been, I know that I owe a debt of gratitude to every person who has ever written a check to organizations like the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (Dad’s cancer falls within their scope). Simply put, my dad wouldn’t be here but for their generosity. Their contributions (totaling $500 million since 1988) have helped develop the amazing treatments that allow my dad this time to live his wonderful and normal life, surrounded by his family who loves him so much.
I sometimes picture him, like the winning coach at the end of a come-from-behind, nail-biting, edge-of-your-seat game. (Feel free to insert your own hyphenated phrase that implies doing something against all odds or that resonates with the feeling of sitting by and watching helplessly as someone else struggles and wins). He’s held in the air, arms above his headin a sign of victory...supported by the countless people who have helped fund blood cancer research.
And…I realize that it is time for me to join the countless. On June 3, 2007, I will be riding my bike around Lake Tahoe (100 miles in a day) with thousands of other Team in Training participants to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. This one is for my dad and for all of those coping with blood cancer; and in the hopes of someday, finally, finding a cure.
Anyone interested in joining my team, please visit my donation website.
http://www.active.com/donate/tntsvmb/tntsvmbRYarme
Oh, and Go Niners (next season, that is!).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)