A few months ago my family and I completely geeked out and had a Harry Potterfest in honor of my son William having finished reading the entire Harry Potter series. We pretty much lived in our pajamas for the entire two days and lived on everything from Waffles to Devile Eggs to Ice Cream Sundaes for dinner one night and sushi the next. One of our favorite characters in the entire series never spoke a single word - Dumbledore's phoenix Fawkes. It struck each us how sad it was that at the end Fawkes was left without anyone, after he had spent so much time with Dumbledore he was now without a companion and flew off alone across the lake, after giving us such wonderful moments as this;
And this;
And although he is one of my favorite fantasy literature characters of all time, Dumbledore needed help to kick butt as is shown in this little discourse which pits Dumbledore against my favorite wizard of all time;
And if you want to know how Sir Ian was able to channel all of that Tolkienesque persona into a mere mortal package, you have to listen in on his conversation with Ricky Gervais;
Now when Harry first meets Fawkes he bursts into flames. Harry, never having seen this occur is of course shocked when he tells Dumbledore about it and he responds, "And about time too, he's been looking dreadful for days." Not to compare myself with a truly memorable character, I myself have been looking dreadful for days, uh weeks, okay really since last November.
You see, I somehow managed to either injure myself or exacerbate a previous injury in my back to the point that riding my bicycle had become painful. I couldn't make it for more than five or six miles before the pain would start up. That pretty much has been going on for almost a year. I've had injections, I've had epidural treatments, I've had chiropractic work (thank you again Dr. Scott!) and I've worked on my core. The result is its better (I can ride about 30 miles non stop) but I'm far from back to my 2012 Ride Across America shape. Instead, I've been making excuses not to ride (it's cold, I have things to carry, it will be dark) and I've seen my fitness languish to a level I haven't seen since my ankle surgery. Although I did manage to briefly raise my head from my this self imposed torpor currently feeling like some sort of sun worshipping lizard,
 |
| (Could Someone Put Some Sunscreen Between My Shoulder Blades?) |
Well no more! I'm starting to feel better and I have to stop babying the back. Of course, this is not to confuse the issue with Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Baby Got Back";
Trust me, at this point I got my own big butt! But that's only part of the issue - a big part. I just went today for my Northport Fire Department physical only to find out that although my blood pressure is great (116/76), I am now the heaviest I have ever been in my entire life. I've decided that not only do I need to get my body back, I need to get my passion back - I need to ride!
But as I have been doing since 2007, I don't just ride for me and that's why I feel the most guilty. Since 2007 I've been riding for others, trying to raise money either for research or to make possible a life changing summer for a children (or children) fighting cancer. As I've written many times before, I don't have a lot of money but I feel I need to give something back to the cancer community in gratitude for the fact that I have three sisters and a mother who are all now cancer free. The odds that four people related to you would be struck by cancer in an eighteen month period are astronomical - that ALL of them beat it is a miracle.
And that's why I ride.
To see the faces of young children, many of them either fighting this disease or in remission, having the time of their life for nearly three months is a true gift. To know that I had a hand in helping them feel like just in other kid doing things that other kids sometime take for granted (but my campers never seem to do so) and being able to express themselves in a way they haven't before is a blessing.
And that's why I ride.
When I have to deal with the frustrations of the day and this crazy hectic world pushes down on me and makes me want to curl up in a ball I have an escape, one that I have been neglecting for far too long. It makes me feel alive, reconnects me with the joy of my youth and reminds me that there is beauty in even the flight of a small bird or the bounding of a rabbit running in the grass as you roll along.
And that's why I ride.
So it's January, one of the coldest months of the year. I wake up early in the morning and I allow the excuses to compile and mount until I roll over and refuse to get out of bed. It's time to stop the madness. It's time to get out and ride. It's time to get rid of my big butt before Sir Mix-a-Lot comes after me.
And it's time for me to lose 20 pounds.
So here I am publicly vowing that I will lose 25 pounds in the next three months. By April 15 I will be down to 155 pounds for the first time since I got married. Yes, you read that right I weighed 180 pounds on the scales during my physical - I just hide it well. My plan is to lose 14% of my body weight in the next thee months and I am going to update this blog at least once a week (every Friday) to let you all know how it's going. This will also take care of the doldrum that has infected my blog upkeep in the last year. Well, really since we did the Ride Across America. So my writing will serve dual purposes.
You see I have a plan. This summer I am going to do something else to raise money for pediatric cancer. I'm not sure yet what it is but suffice it to say I will never be able to do it if I don't lose weight and get myself into shape. I am going to once again ride for the kids and for those who are fighting this disease.
And maybe, just maybe, when baby no longer got back, baby's back will hurt no longer!
Stay well my friends and I'll see you on the road!
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