One of Our Own

This past Wednesday dawned way too early as we got all the kids up, dressed and fed.  It wasn't the simple fact that it was 5:30 in the morning, nor the fact that I had been on call with the Northport Fire Department last night (one call at 12:00 so that wasn't too bad) and had slept on the couch.

Instead, I think it had much to do with the fact that Amy and I didn't get much sleep over the last two nights as we were waiting for January 30th to roll around.  No, its not an anniversary of any particular event in our lives, rather it was the day that we would be taking our beautiful little boy in to Stonybrook Hospital to have the tumor removed from his shoulder blade.  None of us had really slept well for quite a few nights worried about what might happen.  William would get up a few times a night not really sure why but it was clear he was more anxious than his nine-year-old brain could rationalize.  Amy and I weren't able to sleep for the simple reason that this was OUR little boy.

Those of you who followed our Connor's Army Ride Across America (or CARAAM for short) know that we were riding for the children of Sunrise Day Camp and with the combined efforts of our entire family Connor's Army was able to raise $25,000 for the camp (by the way, if you're reading this its still not to late to donate, all you have to do is click here for more information) and send four kids to a life changing summer experience. 

What many of you may not know is how much my children invested themselves in this mission to help the kids of Sunrise.  It wasn't just giving up their summer to ride in a van and support their insane summer.  Wherever we went they were the embassadors and PR crew par excellence.  All it took was for Amy or I to engage in a conversation with someone about what we were doing for the summer, one of the kids would come up and hand them a CARAAM brochure and talk about it too.  And more often than not it was William who was being the PR rep.

The kids also had a goal this summer of riding along with me and also contributing to the effort to help the kids of Sunrise by doing a small percentage of what daddy was doing.  Sarah's goal was 10% or 400 miles.  The boys on their little 20" bikes were going to have a harder time of it and couldn't really handle steep hills so they could only join me when the going was relatively flat so they made a goal of 100 miles - 1/4 of Sarah's goal.  They would pedal along as fast as they could move their legs and any time the terrain sloped upwards William seemed to feel it the most.  But he was determined that he would get his miles in.  He was the one that was the most raring to go and even now when the weather is 20 degrees outside he wants to go on a bike ride with daddy.  He loves it and that's why he was so devastated when during our day of riding from Mount Vernon to Alexandria on the Mount Vernon Trail he pooped out and couldn't finish.  Amy had to pick him up and take him along and for the next week he would continue to fret about not being able to finish his miles, not being able to get his 100.  So during our layover in Swedesboro we made it a point to go on a ride so he could be even with James. 

My son is a fighter and yet he is one of the most empathic little boys you'll ever meet.  He was so into helping the kids fighting cancer and when we met Elijah Dalton he immediately bonded with him and they began playing as if they were old friends.  He understands that children who are sick are just like he and his brother, it doesn't matter if they have no hair or if they have other physical things going on.  And he just wants then to feel better.  That's why this week has been so hard.

You see, over the summer William, Sarah and James were spending lots of time in the pool.  We always tried to stay places where they could swim so we could make sure they got some exercise.  With all that time shirtless we became aware that William had a lump small lump on his left shoulder blade that didn't match the lump on his right.  We kept an eye on it and it didn't seem to hurt him.  But over the course of the summer we noticed it was getting larger.  It felt hard to the touch so we new it wasn't cartiledge or soft tissue but we had no idea what it was.  We returned to Northport and it still wasn't hurting him so we just kept an eye on it.

In October we noticed it was about three times the size it had been in July so we decided to take him to get it checked out.  His pediatrician suggested we go to a specialist and that would suggested another.  To make a long story short, after a lot of testing (MRI, Xray, and others) they couldn't decide conclusively what it was but the best guess they had was that it was an osteochondroma.   And it looked something like this - PLEASE NOTE, WILLIAMS' WAS NOWHERE NEAR THIS SIZE! It was perhaps 1/4 the size of this one.  I only show this picture because for some stupid reason we never took a picture of William's and this one is roughly in exactly the same place.

However, after all the testing they weren't 100% certain.  They also said that although they were reasonably sure that it was benign, it would continue to grow as he grew and if it did it could end up matasticizing at some point.  It was at that point Amy and I both said "take it out".  If there was to be any chance at all that William's growth could become full-blown cancerous we wanted it gone.  Added to that is the fact that most osteochondromas tend to be found at the end of growth plates on long bones and this one was in a scapula, not in soft tissue so the doctors are completely sure.  All William knew was that he had a tumor and he was going to have an operation which is what I think led to all the sleepless nights.

So on Wednesday Amy took William to Stony Brook Hospital and I dropped James off at intramurals at 7:00 and then I headed off to join them.  We didn't have a lot of time with him before he went in and then it was time to decide who would be with him as he dropped off to sleep from the anesthesia.  Of course mama won out and she sang him one of his favorite lullabies from when he was little;



Finally, a little after 9:00 they came out to tell us that the surgery had begun.  Now it was just the waiting.  We posted on facebook, caught up with e-mails and generally tried to think positive, healing thoughts and direct all our energy towards our brave little boy.  Finally Dr. Kahn met with us and told us that he got it all, it looked clean, he was 98% sure it was benign but that we would have to wait for two weeks until the pathology came in to be certain.

When they finally let us in to see him it was all I could do to keep from bursting into tears.   From all the calls I have gone on with the Northport Fire Department I'm fairly used to seeing folks in hospital beds.  A lot of the time I help put them in there.  But those are full sized adults and they're not my little boy.  As I saw him there on his side with the IV dripping out and surrounded by rolled up blankets to keep him from rolling on to his back I felt so helpless because there was nothing I could do.  Because I know my way around the beds I could adjust them and I knew what the SPO2 meant and how to interpret it.  It made me feel like I was doing something useful.

William was in a lot of pain and it tore me up to not be able to make him feel better at all.  The nurses all fell in love with him and his pink streaked hair (which he explained was for Valentine's Day - see it up top) and he charmed them all.  His nurse kept giving him a small dosage of pain reliever every five minutes but finally she had to give him an oral as that wasn't helping.  Small wonder since the doctor's basically scooped out the bone.  Finally we were able to take him home.

William has spent the last two days at home in his pajamas with mama, watching videos and resting.  He still wakes quite often in the night because of the pain and we have to give him doses of Tylenol with Coddeine which only last about three hours.  But he is healing and he is getting better thanks to all the prayers and thoughts of our family and friends.  But I'm still feeling helpless to do something for our little boy so I have to ride.  After a summer spent riding for the children of Sunrise with my own children its now time to ride for one of my own, my little William.

So when I rolled into Syosset High School this morning, this is what the Weather.com listed as the current conditions.

 

Was I freezing?  Definitely.  Was the wind blowing faster than I could pedal?  Roger that.  But all the pain and cold I felt today was nothing compared to the pain my little boy is feeling in his bones.  So I ducked my head and just kept pedaling.  And if I was hoping for a killer tailwind to help me on the way back that would be a big negatory - I had it right on my beam the entire time.  But it was all for my boy, my brave, truthful and unselfish real boy.

 

So now I need to finish gluing on the weights for the boys' Pinewood Derby cars and get them set for the weigh-in tomorrow.  William is going to get out of the house for the first time in three days and I can't wait to hear all the stories of how his friends are going to appreciate his being back.

 

And now I leave you with the lullaby I always sang for William when he was a little boy, "New Words" by Maury Yeston from the musical In the Beginning as sung by Brian Stokes Mitchell, enjoy.

  



Stay Well Y'all, and I will see you on the road - I'm pedaling for William.



What A Difference A Year Makes

(Now where did I leave that Mallet?)

So a year ago on January 9, 2012 I wrote about the trials and tribulations I had just faced and how I was just beginning to crawl out of one of the lowest points of my personal life.  I entitled the entry "Finding My Sanity" and it primarily detailed how I was finally being able to make sense of my life after being personally attacked by a parent as a result of the casting of Beauty and the Beast all of which I chronicled here. 

Although I waxed rather optimistically in that January 9 posting, the truth was that her vindictive actions caused much more damage to our efforts to raise money for Sunrise Day Camp than I at that time anticipated.  Because of this parent's actions I wasn't able to talk about the Connor's Army Ride Across America to students, parents or even my colleagues at school until the very end.  I wasn't allowed to share this momentous undertaking with those people that I spend the most time of my life with (well aside from my own family) and it really caused a schism between myself and many members of the club.  A schism that I fear still survives in small amounts to this day.  I still get feelings that certain of that young ladie's friends who have yet to graduate are still viewing me with the same distrust, anger and ill will - the seeds of which were sown by this young lady and her mother.  And I have to say, of all the casting decisions I have ever made, this one has made in my life this one has made me the most sad because of the long term effects it had on the club and on the life of innocent children who could have been helped.

This all comes about as a result of the fact that we have recently cast the latest SHS musical and once again there are students whose lives have been affected and who are angry at me because of casting decisions I have made.  I wish I could say that I gotten used to it but I don't think I ever will.  However, a friend of mine who is retired from the High School directing game told me that he used to describe the casting process by using the analogy of putting together a puzzle.  There are many beautiful pieces, each of them completely unique unto itself and many are capable of matching up with other pieces.  However, its only when you get the right combination of pieces in the right spots that you can truly see the beauty of the complete picture.  Keeping that image in my head has helped me to keep my sanity this time.  Even thought I may find myself less patient with the kids now than I used to be, and much more ready to tell them to just shut up and either do it or don't I have learned.  This year has taught me that I need to continue to be true to myself and stop pussyfooting around those who didnt' get cast the way they wanted to be.  I can't rearrange the puzzle just becuase one piece wants to be in a different place.  So the year has made a difference.

Another difference is that the event that was once a dream has actually happened.   Every since I started the Connor's Army organization with the help of my wife Amy one of the main goals in the back of my mind was to ride across America to raise money to help the cancer community.  After working at Sunrise Day Camp three summers ago I knew that my effort to do so would best serve those kids.  The original time frame (Summer 2011) didn't work out because I waited to long to try and get sponsors and to get my logistics together.  After a second summer of working at Sunrise I knew beyond a doubt that my efforts would go to good use at the camp and I vowed that even if I had to do it alone and unsupported, summer 2012 would be the year it happened.

It wasn't easy to plan and to be honest without my wife's superior planning skills it never would have happened.  It was her logistics, her booking skills and her patience that made it possible.  Add to that the complete support of my three children (who also rode along) and we were committed (some would argue we should have been) to the plan.  After 74 days away from home and more than 6,000 miles of round trip travel, we arrived at the grounds of Sunrise on August 24th to the welcome of friends, family, staffers and campers.  We made some amazing memories along the way and I am so grateful to my family for making this possible.  Not only my immediate family but my sisters, brothers-in-law, nephews, nieces, parents, and my ACT family.  Their love  and support (and in some cases sponsorships - thank you Laura) made our journey possible and in the process (when you add in Sarah's coming of age celebration) helped us to raise $25,000 for Sunrise - enough for four campers.  It was only half of our original dream but it will still make a huge difference.

It didn't come without a cost of sorts.  The first thing we learned is sometimes no good deed goes unpunished as we chronicled in a post at the end of August.  It seems our house sitter left us in worse state than we left and it took us a long time (not to mention quite a bit of money) to dig ourselves out of the complications his staying here caused.

The other cost came in the fact I wasn't able to join the Northport Fire Department, at least initially.  I went for the interview last May and it all seemed to be very, very promising.  However, at the end of the interview with all of the chiefs they asked me if I had any questions.  I let them know our plans for the summer, why I was doing it and asked if that would be a problem.  They all agreed that I would lose too much training time and I would end up coming in as the new guy that nobody knew.  I have to admit I was a bit crushed.  Every since we moved to Northport I've seen the ambulance going by our house and I would see the bicycle EMT's at all the parades and village events.  I've always wanted to be a part of that and give back to my community but I had to wait until the kids were older and I had finished my Master's in School District Leadership.  Originally I had hoped to join last December, get my training done and be a certified EMT before we left for the cross country trip.  But alas it was not to be.  I worred and fretted that perhaps I had lost my window of opportunity and wouldn't get the chance to join.

But lo and behold, I called them when we came back and to make a short story short - I was sworn in to the Northport Fire Department on December 6th, 2012!!!!!!

Since then I've been able to go out on about 40 calls and I make it my goal to try to learn a new piece of knowledge or skill set for each call I go out on.  So far I've been successful in that goal and I'm enjoying it so much.  I'm still in the honeymoon stage in that whenever my beeper goes off Amy and the kids still say "Bye Daddy!"  I know that it won't last much longer but for now I'm glad I'm helping my community.  I've already spoken to officers in the department and I'm DEFINITELY going to be part of the bike squad starting this spring as I don't have to be certified to work on the bike squad - I just have to go on calls with someone who is.  Next goal is to become a certified EMT!!!!  All in due time!

So, its been a busy year and I haven't touched on EVERYTHING that's happened in our busy lives but that's the majority of what's been going on with me and the family and Connor's Army.  I have lots of goals this year, and one of them is to reinvent our mission for Connor's Army - any suggestions out there?????  Perhaps I should revisit the idea I had last year to combine two of my passions and create a Connor's Army Bicycle Ballet Troupe;



Stay well (and thirsty) my friends and I'll see you on the road!



How Do I Spell Gratitude?

(Sprinting his way in the opposite direction of the deep fryer)

In NYC today (only a short bicycle jaunt from my hometown of Northport) they are holding the 13th Annual Cranksgiving Ride.  It's an event that I've always wanted to do but we have our annual holiday gathering at Mark and Laura's in Verona, NJ and its an amazing time for us all to be together and appreciate our amazing family.  So we're currently watching the parade on television and then we'll head out in the car for the great trek to the kingdom of New Jersey.  Yes, we do have to deal with the New Jersey traffic but at least this time I'm not doing it on a bicycle!

One of our traditions (which we in the Connor household have been doing on a daily basis for years) is to go around the tables and say one thing that we are grateful for in the last year.  To be honest, there are so many things I am grateful for this year that I can't limit it to just one so I decided to create this little acronym instead;

T - Three thousand, seven-hundred and thirteen miles without major mechanical issues and with only one minor accident.  The only mechanical was really just a flat tire (on one of the most grueling days of the ride) and the only accident was when Sarah ran into me on the way to Floyd, VA.  But there could have been so many instances where things could have gone horribly wrong but they didn't.  And for that I am grateful.
H - Healthy children.  Spending 44 days in the saddle this summer riding for children who are battling cancer made me so much more appreciative of the fact that my children are completely healthy and (I hope) happy.  Even when they annoy me, I am grateful for the fact that I do have them here TO annoy the @#$#@ out of me sometimes!  I am truly grateful that they are in my life.
A - All the people who supported us, sponsored us, followed us, and read this blog.  I truly could not have made it through all of those long difficult days without you.  Knowing you all believed in me and that you were pushing for me was sometimes the only thing that kept me from tossing my bike on the side of the road and calling it a day.
N - New experiences and memories that I have had over the last year with my family.  As difficult as it was to coexist in a small confined space (i.e., minivan, hotel rooms, Kozy Kabins, etc.) I really felt as if I grew closer to my family instead of away.  With them I traveled to places I have wanted to visit since I was a kid (The Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde, Colorado) and now I have these incredible memories of seeing my children and my wife discover the beauty that is this country.
K - Kozy Kabins, Kansans, Krispy Kreme Donuts and all other things that started with "K" that we got to experience this summer.  And yes, I know that I'm dwelling a lot over what happened this summer but it truly was a life changing experience not only for myself but for my children as well.  I think they really got the chance to see what this amazing country is all about and all the diversity that it holds.
S - Sunrises with Sarah, Sunsets with the family.  I think one of the things that I will remember the most about this summer was being with Sarah as she watched her very first sunrise.  We were on our bicycles heading to Pittsburgh, KS at something like 5:45 in the morning and I had the unbridled joy of watching her watch the sunrise from behind.  Her comments and little squeals of joy (in between the occasional puffing and heavy breathing) as she witnessed her first ever sunrise were magical.  And since this followed only about a week or so after the entire family had experienced the sunset over the Western rim of the Grand Canyon, we were in solar display heaven!  Memories like this are ones that I will take with me to my dying day and I hope they are ones the kids will remember forever.
G - Gas in the tank.  One of the hardest things about this summer's journey was the concern about gas prices.  We were very lucky in that we never hit the out-of-control gas prices that were originally forcast for the summer so we always had gas in the tank.  Well, except for that one brief period of time when Amy thought she would run out on the way to Charlottesville.  But more importantly, gas and oil prices have stayed low on Long Island which has been a big help as we are all struggling in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.  We recently started a gas rationing program here on the Island and it has helped alleviate the lines and the craziness.  People are actually beginning to be civil again to one another.  So this grateful is for gas!
I - In the moment.  One of the things that I was able to do this summer is live in the moment - something I've been striving to do for a very long time.  It was so much easier to do it when I was young but as I've grown oldere and have accumulated more responsibilites and cares (sort of like my mental and emotional saddlebags) I've forgotten to just live for the now and enjoy every moment.  This summer my children reminded me to do that.  As I experienced America through their eyes I saw how important it is for me to get back to the idea of just allowing myself to experience the here and now thoroughly.  I hope I can continue this important lesson.
V - Veni, Vidi, Vici  This summer I learned a lot about myself and I learned I CAN survive any challenge that I undertake.  It may not always have the ending that I dream about (*cough, cough* $50,000 raised for Sunrise) but I can do it.  This summer I came to some very desolate and inhospitable places in our country's landscape and I saw the challenges I had to face and yet I conquered them.  I am extremely grateful for the lessons this jounrey taught me.  Not only about myself but about my amazing wife and my incredible children.  I have always appreciated them and how blessed I am to have them in my life but because of what they helped me do and how they gave of themselves to help me reach this goal I appreciate them so much more.  I know that seems impossible but its true.  My greatest wish is to try to keep reminding myself every day of how they support me and love me, even when we make each other nuts.
I - Ice Cream!!!!!!! I know this seems like a silly thing to be grateful for but ice cream has tied our family together over the past year.  From making huge sundaes to celebrate the New Year (or the Connormonster we made when the power went out) to Amy's end of summer birthday party bash, ice cream bonds our family together.  Whether we're making our own or venturing down into Northport to see if they have any new flavors, we always enjoy it together.  And this summer the adventures we shared while looking for the perfect ice cream experience were numerous but to me, any time I could share the ice cream with my incredible family was the perfect ice cream experience.
N - New people who have come into our life and those with whom we've manage to reconnect with this year.  Our friends, old and new, have helped us weather some difficult times this year both emotionally and physically.  I am so incredibly grateful for all of these people who are in our lives and who have helped us maintain our sanity and our optimisim about the good of people in the world.
G - Gas in the tank.  One of the nicest things that has been said about me as a rider happened shortly after I came back from the summer.  I was riding with the AA crew of the Huntington Bicycle Club and I was having a good ride.  I was in shape I was pulling at times but I wasn't the fastest guy out there.  That's when my friend Michael Foresto said one of the nicest things that anyone has ever said about me, "He doesn't have a big engine but he's got a lot of gas in the tank!"  And that pretty much epitomizes my whole life.  I'm not flashy, I'm not the fastest, and I'm not necessarily the best.  But I can AND WILL keep going.  I found that to be true this summer and I think its been true my entire life.  I will keep going no matter what and I can keep going.  There are far too many people that I can help to give up now.

So the journey is done but the battle is not won.  I don't know yet what Connor's Army will do in the future but I know that it will be somehow related to helping the cancer community in any way that I can.  For to me, the best way to show my gratitude for the bounty that has been bestowed on me is to give back - in whatever way I can.

Stay well my friends, and I'll see you on the road!

Riding the (not so) Friendly Roads



(Welcome to Long Island - Now Get the Hell off MY Road!!!!!)

How do they do it?  How are people able to keep up a blog with everything else that goes on in their busy lives?  I guess it becomes a matter of priority and with the craziness that has been going on in the Tri State area I have allowed this blog to become the last thing on my mind.

The first thing of course is Hurricane Sandy which everyone around here has taken to calling "Superstorm Sandy".  My understanding is that the distinguishment (call it semantics) has something to do with insurance and FEMA assistance.  The Connor household was fortunately spared any damage to our home or property but those around us experienced plenty.  Some of my colleagues lost homes and some of my students as of this writing are still living with others or in hotels because they are still without power.  We lost power for about five days, got it back, lost it and then got it back again and we've been doing well every since - even surviving the Nor' Easter.

The second upheaval that has happened and has kept me off the blog trail has been the election.  No one can argue that this was the most contested and contentious election in many years and to tell the truth, when I was on the computer I was too drawn into reading all the articles about what was going on and being terribly afraid for the future of our country.  The election is over and President Obama won reelection (some have already started arguing that it was all because of Sandy - as if he can control the weather) but even that sense of stability will be taken from us as Republicans have already vowed to block him on everything they possibly can.

And the third event that has been keeping me away from these hallowed pages has been the Association of Creative Thespians' production of The 39 Steps which opens tomorrow here at SHS.  Because of the Superstorm, the Nor' Easter and the lack of gas to be had for buses or parents, we lost two weeks of rehearsal during that critical time when we traditionally clean and fix timing, finish the set and generally tech the show.  Last Friday, with less than a week before the opening of the show I put the question up to the cast and crew of the show - Do we continue?  I told them that I was willing to do either but it had to be a majority vote of the combined cast and crew.  If the majority voted to do it then I asked of them two things - 1) that we give it our very best shot and we put ALL of our effort into getting this show in the very best shape we possibly can, even if it means extra rehearsals and 2) that we use this as a fundraiser to help those in our own community and in other communities on Long Island who have been effected by the storms.  It wasn't unanimous, but they overwhelmingly agreed to go through with the show.  And despite all of the lost time, we are going to have an incredible show.  It won't be as clean as it could have been but it will be good - and we will raise funds to help others.  I couldn't be prouder of my kids.  They truly have shown what can happen when you choose to use your art for the good of others.

So with all of the craziness that has been happening in the last three weeks, I find that I haven't been riding, blogging or really doing much of anything.  

In terms of my riding, it's been far too long since I've done any meaningful miles and I have found myself falling into the trap of complacency that I guess all explorers fall into upon their return.  I haven't been riding as much and I haven't been able to get myself back into a disciplined groove.  I find that I just can't get myself as motivated to ride every day as I did over the summer.  Sometimes its just simply I didn't have a good night's sleep and I can't get up in the morning, nor can I force myself to get out of bed.  I'm not sure that I need to go to the extent of testosterone replacement therapy;

 



but I am finding that my get-up-and-go is not going as fast as it used to.  Now part of that may be the slow slouching towards 50 that I guess everyone finds themself doing at this age but I find myself in a state of almost constant mental flagellation (not to be confused with mental flatulation which just renders me stupid) trying to get myself motivated to do what I should be doing. 

So I ultimately feel like I'm letting down my family, my friends, my supporters, and especially the kids of Sunrise - which then starts the spiraling downward arc all over again and I find myself too disheartened to get my fat butt on the road.  Which has all led to the fact that I have gained back about seven pounds of all the weight I had lost over the summer - again, setting me up on a disheartened downward spiral.  I know all I need to do is get back to riding consistently but I just can't find the drive that I once had.

Now I don't know if I'm dealing with a sense of loss from the attainment of a goal.  Some who know me would argue that I've always been like this - never satisfied once I have what I have attained, that I'm constantly in need of a challenge.  Perhaps that's true but it does keep me moving and searching for a new challenge.  I guess that's what drove me to get my Master's in School District/Building Administration.  I'm now looking forward to the challenge of being a volunteer EMT in the Northport Fire Department.  It is my hope that I can eventually be a part of their bicycle EMS team that works all the events in Northport.  How cool would it be to combine my passion for riding with my desire to help my community.

I also believe there is another thing that has been influencing my lack of joy with riding on Long Island.  While I was riding across the country this summer I rode in a number of different scenarios and locales - from crowded highways with almost no shoulder (thank you so much Adventure Cycling Association), to twisting mountain roads in Kentucky alongside loaded coal trucks, to crowded urban roads (Baltimore, Camden, Newark, NYC) with busy traffic.  However, it wasn't until I got back to Long Island that I started feeling as if I were just a two-wheeled mobile target for some sort of traffic mishap game.  If you recall, the day I returned to LI, I almost was "right hooked" by a woman in Manhasset - 20 miles from the end of my journey.  It seems that once I crossed the East River cyclists once again become fair game in a motorists game of hit and run. 

For the longest time this has been bothering me.  As you may recall from previous posts, I actually do talks with the driver's ed classes at SHS about sharing the road with cyclists.  I work hard to make sure these young motorists know that cyclists legally have a right to be on the road and that it's pretty much illegal for us to be riding on the sidewalks (unless you're 12 or younger) as this video starring John Leguizamo so humorously demonstrates;



However, there are a great number of older motorists on Long Island that either don't know this or just don't give a damn.  So as a result they honk at us as they are right behind us, they "buzz" us, or sometimes they try (sometimes successfully as I am living testament to) to run into us to prove their point.

But that's not the worse part.  The worse part is the attitude of my fellow Long Island cyclists.  Now I realize that perhaps .05% of the riders on Long Island might actually be competitive cyclists who compete year round and who really train in a way to be more competitive.  I do occasionally get the chance to ride with some of these gusy in the AA group of the Huntington Bicycle Club.  But the majority of us are what I guess are called "enthusiasts" (which I think is a fancy way to say its our hobby) so we're really not training for the next national event, we're simply doing it to get/stay in shape and because we enjoy it.  I would say that 90% of the cyclists on Long Island probably fall within that category.  I include myself in there so don't think I'm being all high and mighty here.  Yes, I rode my bicycle across America but I am in no way a competetive cyclist.  Yes, I can ride for 12 hours a day at an average speed of 17 mph but again, I am not a competetive cyclist.  So I feel a certain kinship to those of my two wheeled brethren with whom I share these dangerous roads.  I feel their pain (literally in three different cases) and I truly get the focus you need when riding the roads of Long Island.

And yet, why the hell is it too much to ask you to wave back when you pass me on the road?!?!?  If you're not one of those .05% of riders who are training for a major cycling event then at least have the decency to acknowledge the existence of a fellow rider who is waving to you.  Are you really working that hard above your threshold level that you can't spare the wattage to lift your hand?  Really?

I met all sorts of fellow cyclists this summer from the super prepared, streamlined racers in Colorado training for an upcoming event (they left me in the dust but loaded down as I was I hung with them for a few miles), to young kids without helmets just bombing the neighborhood.  Almost without exception they always waved back, even the "enthusiasts" training in Washington, D.C. who seemed as if they were at least contemplating some serious wattage output.

The point is, we're under the same pressure and WE are the minority out here on the God given Island of Long and it would be nice if we could just acknowledge each others' existence.  It's not like we have to high-five as we pass each other (which would cause one of us to swerve into the other lane, thereby proving to motorists we're total jerks) or to even chest bump as we pass (which would be totally impressive since we're both going at 20+ mph in opposite directions - heeeeeeyyyyyy, there's a great math problem, if Gene is traveling north at 23 mph on his bicycle and Fred is traveling south at 22 mph on his bicycle and they both bunny hop in the air and chest bump, who will get the more severe concussion?  Solve for y).  But you know what WOULD be nice my fellow cyclists?  Just a slight raising of your hand or even the passing head nod, just to say, "I'm with you, man".

For those of you readers out there who don't bike commute on the deadly streets of Long Island, you probably don't have any idea what I'm talking about.  So I say to you, come on out, the road is fine!  And if you e-mail me or message me, I'll be glad to ride it with you!  For those of you who do bike commute on these thoroughfares of torment - just give a little wave!

Stay well, and I'll see you on the road!

Now What? Part Three - The Man in the Mirror

I wish I could, I just can't, no mater how hard I try.  Keep up with posting on a daily basis.  As it is I'm still trying to reconstruct blog entries I started while on the open road.  Invariably, after a long day of riding for 10 - 12 hours I would finally sit down to write only to find myself falling asleep at the keyboard after only a few paragraphs.  I would quickly jot down some notes from the day's events before falling into bed with the full intention of coming back a few days later and finish them.  Unfortunately, those days kept piling up more and more with the long days on the road until I have found myself with about fifteen blog entries that I'm trying go back and finish.

That fact, coupled with being back at work and sliding back into the old routine leaves me little time to write the way I want to.  Sooooooo, I end up not blogging for a week or so at a time.  I really don't know how people do it, how do they manage to write pages of blog entries every single day.  I wish I could be like the Bike Snob and either have an intern or a helper monkey named Vito to write down my every thought.  Or even a helper monkey named Steve who has a thought translater;

 

 But alas, its just me with my own thoughts and not enough time to always get them down in a timely fashion.

 

As many of you know (or if not, its new to you) I once was an English Literature major.  Now granted, my concentration was Medieval and Elizabethan English but I did occasionally delve into the more contemporary authors, especially when taking those granola crunchy poetry classes.  A body of work that never appealed to me in college was that of Walt Whitman.  I just didn't get him.  I guess my not being from Long Island stunted my appreciation of this artist much in the same way it has any appreciation at all of Billy Joel (Moving Out the musical notwithstanding, at least it had Twyla Tharp's choreography) - I just don't get where he's coming from.  So there you have it, I'm out of the closet - I DON'T LIKE BILLY JOEL!!!!! 

 

But back to Walt.  There was one of Whitman's poems that did seem to resonate with me and I found myself over the years appreciating more and more, his Song of the Open Road.  As I traversed this great wilderness that is our country I found myself on occasion reflecting on the words of Walt and I would occasionally go to the link above and reread his words.  And the ones that echoed time and again along with the cadence of my pounding pedals (when I wasn't listen to Foo Fighters, Green Day, AC/DC, Snow Patrol and others) was stanza 4;

The earth expanding right hand and left hand,
The picture alive, every part in its best light,
The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted,
The cheerful voice of the public road—the gay fresh sentiment of the road.
O highway I travel! O public road! do you say to me, Do not leave me?
Do you say, Venture not? If you leave me, you are lost?
Do you say, I am already prepared—I am well-beaten and undenied—adhere to me?
O public road! I say back, I am not afraid to leave you—yet I love you;
You express me better than I can express myself;
You shall be more to me than my poem.
I think heroic deeds were all conceiv’d in the open air, and all great poems also;
I think I could stop here myself, and do miracles;
(My judgments, thoughts, I henceforth try by the open air, the road;)
I think whatever I shall meet on the road I shall like, and whoever beholds me shall like me;
I think whoever I see must be happy.

And I had to admit that almost everyone I met on the road I did like.  It was rare that I met anyone along the road that I found obnoxious or ignorant.  Even the most uneducated people had a quiet and dignified wisdom about them and I found when I listened to them I learned much. 

Of the many people I met along the road there was one gentleman that I really became enamored with.  As I've written before, there were certain people that I kept running into along the way and I met many cyclists (mostly going West) that were taking on the cross country challenge for their own reason.  But I came across this one guy who I just thought was amazing.  He was funny, energetic, compassionate, patient, loving to his wife and children, and even though he occasionally lost his temper he had a positive outlook and optimism that was infectious.  He inspired others and shared his joy of cycling with all the cyclists he met on the road.  He stopped on the road in Kentucky to help a man push his car up a hill and stopped to help a woman who ran out of gas in Missouri.  He took time to listen to others, no matter what their story.

If you haven't guessed, that man is me.  I was freed up while on the road by the routine of waking up, riding, eating, blogging (mostly) then sleeping, only to wake up and start again the next day.  The daily dose of endorphines kept me happy and positive but it was more than that.  I found my family and my connection to them.  Every single day I was reminded of how much I love my wife and children and how lucky I was to have a family that loved me so much that they would hear the call of Allons! and join me on this Quixotic journey.  And yes, I rekindled my love of epic literature.

It was a bit disconcerting to hear people praise me and tell me how amazing I was, telling me that I was their hero (I kid you not).  That always left me struggling for words because that's really not why I was doing this.  I'm just a normal guy who has finally realized that I have been so incredibly blessed and it's time to take what I've been given and try to use it to help others.  I'm not a hero, I'm not exceptional.  Far from it, my wife would probably say I'm stubborn and hard headed.  And in my head I often have this song running through it;

 

No, I'm no superman but I am trying to continue to make a difference.  I've been put on this earth for a reason.  I don't think I've really figured out what that reason is yet.  Maybe I never will.  But I do know that I have to keep giving to others because life has been good to me and there are so many who (even on my worst of days) are far worse off than I am.  It's one of the reasons why I'll start EMT training in January - to give back because of the many blessings that have been heaped upon me.  If I'm going to make a difference in this world, I have to start with me.

But the trick is to keep this change in me, to hold on to the optimistic, energetic, loving guy I met on the road and not let him regress into the short tempered, irritable, pessimist that I was turning into.  As with any self help program its an uphill battle but one that I think is worth the battle.  The trick is to be the change that I want to see happen in the world and to be able to look at myself in the mirror every day and see that guy.   I guess the real sentiment has already been expressed extremely eloquently in the past and even though many have covered the song, it still sounds powerful when heard by the original artist;

I don't know if I can keep it but I promised the man in the mirror that I'll try to blog more often - wish me luck.

Stay well my friends and once I get myself back together I promise to see you on the road!


To get another perspective of our journey check out Amy's blog at www.crosscountrymama.blogspot.com
It's not too late to donate! Go to www.connorsarmy.org to find out how!