It's not too late

I read Kathy Martin's story yesterday, and I have to say... it inspired me:

Life can bestow unexpected gifts, and sometime in her late 40s, Martin, a real estate agent living on Long Island, a busy working mother who had never been in a track meet, discovered a glorious secret hidden away in her body. Not only was she a good runner, she was also an outstanding one. In fact, she was one of the most remarkable female distance runners in the world.

This discovery of greatness in her legs came too late for the kind of dreams a younger woman might have: intercollegiate championships, Olympic glory, being the absolute fastest of the fast. As decades pass, maximum heart rate slows, aerobic capacity wanes, muscle mass tends to dwindle.

But Martin has been redefining what is possible for an older body, setting a string of formidable national and world records.

Before I rode in the week long AIDS/LifeCycle five years ago, I'd hardly spent anytime on a bike since high school. And after only putting in the bare minimum amount of training, I wasn't too sure midway through day 2 (my first 100+ mile ride) if I was going to survive the experience. But I got a second wind in the afternoon; by day 5, I was flying. I thought to myself, "This would have been the sport I'd have excelled at had I thought to try it when I was younger."

And now Kathy Martin comes along to remind me that it's not too late.

AIDS/LifeCycle meets California Gurls

This video gives a great picture of how much fun this year's AIDS/LifeCycle was (and hides quite a bit of the challenge of cycling from San Francisco to Los Angeles :-). Here's ALC's version of Katy Perry & Snoop Dogg's "California Gurls." Enjoy!

(Video link)

AIDS/LifeCycle 9 - an amazing experience

Wow! Last week I was on the medical team for the AIDS/LifeCycle. What an amazing experience! I was a rider on ALC6 in 2007 (recap here), but being a roadie was a completely different challenge.

The medical team was made up of doctors, PAs, RNs, and EMTs who had volunteered a week of their time to support the 1900 cyclists and nearly 550 roadies who made the 545 mile journey from San Francisco to Los Angeles. Over $10 million was raised to provide services to those living with HIV/AIDS and to prevent new infections.

Like most of the roadie teams, the medical team worked its collective butt off. The base camp medical tent opened at 6am every morning and shut down at 9pm, closing midday only to relocate to the next town on the route. We also staffed lunch and four rest stops along the way and were open overnight for emergencies. On my night shift I didn't get to bed until after 3am and then rose at 5:30am when the team started to show up for the morning rush.

We handled all of the normal things you'd expect on a ride of this kind--dehydration, road rash, saddle sores--along with all of the medical issues that the 2500 participants showed up with on day one. We also had a nasty stomach virus that made the rounds; a large number of folks needing IV fluids during the course of the week as a consequence.

I'm a new EMT, and I learned so much on the LifeCycle. I can't say enough about the providers, nurses, and other EMTs who never hesitated to help me out. Many of them commented during the week: it's amazing what a group of people can accomplish when they're all working together. For me, the most remarkable thing about us was how quickly we coalesced into an effective team. For that I have to credit our medical director, the medical captains, and the charge nurses and pharmacist who led us.

In addition to all the new friends I made, the best part of the week for me was getting to help so many different people. Given the sometimes difficult conditions we were working under, people were so grateful to have us on the ride. It was nice to feel so needed.

Finally, I have to say a big "thank you" to my bff Tommy. It was his idea for us to join the medical team, and working with him for the first time was awesome, even with our little kitty fight on day 6. :-)

It's day two...

of AIDS/LifeCycle 7. And ooooooh it felt so good to wake up in my own bed today instead of a damp tent at 5:30am! LOL

Today also happens to be the longest day of the ride at around 105 miles.

But don't think I'm not missing all my cycling buddies! :-)

THE LAS VEGAS REVIEW-JOURNAL profiled the couple that runs Las Vegas Cyclery and Escape Adventures today. I'm going to have to check them out... and maybe get on my bike soon for a ride with the Las Vegas Cycling Club. (And I just noticed that they've cancelled the 2008 Vegas Century... which I had been planning on doing. Damn!) We also have new neighbors, and one of them just bought a bike. Too many reasons to let my bikes gather dust in the garage...

AIDS/LifeCycle 7

AIDS/LifeCycle 7 begins this Sunday. Around 3000 cyclists and nearly 1000 volunteers will hit the road on the 545-mile journey from San Francisco to Los Angeles.

I did the ride this year, but my bicycle will be stationary this year. I'm in summer session and can't get away for a week. I will, however, be at the finish line in LA to greet friends as they arrive.

I still have some donations to make. For more information, check out the LifeCycle website. (And if you don't know anyone riding but would like to make a contribution, email me and I can point you at a specific rider.)

And you can always buy one of these for a cyclist. :-)

A RECAP OF MY RIDE LAST YEAR:

The 2007 AIDS LifeCycle is over! This year's 2300 riders set a new record by raising $11 million for HIV/AIDS services and prevention in California.

What an experience... it's hard to explain succinctly. From the first morning I could tell it was going to be one of the craziest trips I've ever had. It was also the most physically challenging thing I've ever taken on.

I rode every one of the 545 miles from San Francisco to Los Angeles, and the biggest mechanical problem I had was needing some minor adjustments to my rear derailleur. No flats! As far as my body, my biggest ache was my butt. A lot of the time I rode as fast as I could, partially to push my limits but largely to maximize my time off the bike seat at the rest stops. Altogether, I spent 31 hours and 20 minutes in the saddle.

The days varied in length from 42 miles (day 5, the day when most participants wear red dresses) to 105 miles (day 2). Some how I thought after that long day 2 that all of the remaining days would be significantly shorter, but there were two more 90+ mile days.

A typical day began at 5am. My alarm would go off before dawn, and my tent mate Justin and I would rise, throw on some clothes, and crawl out of our dew-soaked tent to head to the dining tent. A lot of the mornings were cold with temperatures in the low 40s.

Huddling in our hoodies, we'd snarf down huge breakfasts before heading back to get dressed for the day, pack up our tent and gear, and head to our bikes. We were typically on the road by 7:30am.

On most days there were four to five rest stops plus a lunch. I'm guessing I ate about 6000 calories a day, and I lost four pounds during the week. The rest stops were my favorite part of the ride. Each one had a different theme: the seven deadly sins, Dreamgirls, the DMV, spa treatment, etc. The roadies who hosted the rest stops did an amazing job of feeding, hydrating, and entertaining us, and they did all of the decorations and costumes out of their own pocket. I loved catching up with friends and meeting new people while giving my body a rest.

The people on the ride came from a broad cross-section of society. There were many gay men in great shape, but there were also plenty of people who were overweight, dressed in street clothes, or otherwise appearing to be ill-suited for the challenge of the California hills and Central Valley winds.

This aspect of the ride amazed me more than anything else. The ride was hard for me. Yes, I was definitely pushing myself and enjoying going beyond what I thought I could do. But here was a woman in her 60s making her way up the same hill. Many people were "sagged" each day, catching a ride to the next rest stop or back to camp on a bus. Yet there they were back again the next day, pushing their own limits.

One day at lunch, Justin and I talked about the disconnect between how people appear and what they are physically capable of. To get to the ride, it's a safe bet that every rider had done some level of training. And there we were: people looking like athletes, people looking like couch potatoes. It was humbling to share the road with so many people who were going so far beyond what anyone might guess they were capable of. My guess is that many of the people who looked like the natural athletes were in their own way having as difficult a time as those who were carrying an extra 60 pounds.

What spurred us all on? For me, it was mostly a competitive spirit and a desire to see how far I could push myself. But others on the ride had experienced the loss of loved ones: lovers, sons, daughters, friends who they memorialized with pictures on their bikes. Over ten percent of the riders were HIV positive.

There were many highlights. One unforgettable one was a candlelight vigil on a southern California beach... a moment to remember loved ones lost to AIDS and to renew our faith to press on until there is a cure, a vaccine, or both.

AIDS/LifeCycle recap

And yes, this is months overdue. But in a nutshell: the AIDS/LifeCycle from San Francisco to Los Angeles was amazing. It was probably the most physically challenging thing I've ever taken on, largely due to the fact that I pushed myself to cover the actual 545 miles of the ride as fast as I could so that I could maximize the amount of time when I a) wasn't sitting on that frighteningly painful bicycle seat and b) was socializing at the oh-so-fun rest stops.

I met great people. I enjoyed laughs and tears with old and new friends. I raised over $7000 (and with the other 2800 riders, a total of $11 million!). I swore the first four days that I'd never do it again... then donned a red dress as is traditional on day five and suddenly every mile seemed a lot easier. Stopping for margaritas just a few miles short of the finish line was incredible... the delicious knowledge that we had MADE IT!

Here are a few pics... and if you've never done something like the LifeCycle, do it. I was humbled by so many of my fellow cyclists: men and women 20 years older than me, 100 lbs or more heavier, HIV+, etc. It is truly amazing what people are capable of when they believe in something.

Under an open sky

It's noon, Thursday, May 31st. On Sunday the AIDS LifeCycle begins... 545 miles to L.A.! Right now I'm just conserving my energy (or perhaps recharging, Memorial Day Weekend was a bit busier than I had anticipated :-).

I think I'm ready for the ride. Justin and I did back to back rides last week, and I felt great afterwards.

My current fundraising total is $4,210, but I have a $2500 contribution that hasn't been processed yet. I am so grateful to all of you out there who have stepped up and made pledges. Thank you!!!

I haven't written much since returning from Mexico in April. It's been a strange time. While I had a wonderful adventure in Puerto Vallarta, I came home feeling a bit of melancholy and have been covering it with a hefty dose of extroverted hedonism. And I'm sad today in particular... there was a new man that I recently met for whom I was developing a strong affection, but it doesn't look like he is looking for a relationship right now. Ah, life.

So just a few bits and pieces today.

Last Saturday I volunteered at a fundraiser for the San Francisco Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender Historical Society. It was a great time, and the crowd was young and cute (and clearly in need of some history lessons ;-). Check out their site here.

Also on a historical note, I just read Robert Oppenheimer's 1966 profile of Albert Einstein.

And today there was an interesting New York Times article on Supreme Court Justice Ginsburg's recent dissenting opinions, two of which she read in front of the Court.

Finally, the June Harper's Magazine includes two pieces that have been echoing in my head for a couple of weeks now. The first is Garret Keizer's "Climate, Class, and Claptrap" in which he makes the case that global warming--which he agrees is an issue of great significance--allows the privileged classes of the world to focus their money, energies, and moral capacities on fighting it while continuing to neglect the everyday miseries that so many already endure. He observes that "the bottom line here is, as always, the bottom line," that there are huge sums to be made as the world slowly turns to confront climate change. And this:

It is not enough to acknowledge that global warming exists; we also need to ask what global warming means. Surely one thing it means is that a culture that has as its highest aim the avoidance of anything remotely resembling physical work must change its life. If you want an inconvenient truth, there it is: that the very notion of convenience upon which our civilization rests is a lie that is killing us. And if you want to see how quickly green can turn to yellow, make mention of that abundant, renewable fuel source whose chief emission is human sweat.

The second essay also addresses the environment, or as Edward Hoagland remembers it in "Endgame," conservation:

And Conservation, which used to embrace national parks and forests, wild rivers, and the like, has blurred into a new term, Environmentalism, concerned with petroleum efficiency, groundwater quality, ozone statistics, sea-level maintenance, tradewinds pollution, recycling yardsticks, climate stabilization. People want mobility, yet a hideway "off the grid," and to have the heart muscles of a hunter-gatherer, attained in a gym, though practically living in cyberspace, but still touch the earthly verities through yoga.

Hoagland explores some intriguing ideas on the origins of our sense of beauty and suggests that our appreciation of the natural world is shared with all the other creatures of the earth:

But what did inspire our sense of beauty? My hunch is that, like our intelligence, it's an outgrowth of a gradual refinement of existing rudiments in other creatures.... Do the species that wear the splendid plumage or coats of fur or superb scaly camouflage we admire not feel an equivalent ebullience at the sight of one another, too? Not merely lust or rivalry, in other words, but something of what Emerson expressed in his essay: that "ecstacy is the law and cause of nature...."

The velvety rustle of fine fishing water, the dewy scent of a deer herd's favorite glen, are delights that connect to evolutionary logic. But not all that's delectable to us does: like frost flowers on a windowpane, more delicately shaped than real ones but signifying how the cold outside will bite. And when we present long-stems on Valentine's Day, are we sharing something deep-seated in common with insects? ... As that vixen carried her young about in her mouth, how different were her feelings from a mama crocodile doing the same; or a human mother's protective hug? And when a drought ends in the desert and toothsome rains begin to fall, is just the pick-and-shovel prospector, with perhaps his donkey, happy? Do other living things only process the new conditions mechanistically? Or if antelope, bighorn sheep, cactus wrens, peccaries, and coatimundis experience a surge of gladness, does the chucawalla, the sidewinder, and the desert tortoise also? I'd certainly be sure about my toad, with his radiantly tremulous sweet song, his vocal sac bulging.

Hoagland ends with a warning to humanity as it moves indoors:

Worldwide, the question is room. Is there room for our multiplying leisure activities and longevity; the cruelty of our market economics; our implacable seining of both land and sea, lest anything escape the harvest, but otherwise fabricating a boxed reality of electronic graphics to live within? Nature has been our aquifer, siphoned from, and thus sinking, century upon century, seldom replenished even a little by anyone, not in the tropics, not in the arctic, the first world, the third world, or our mind's eye. The electricity that powered our changes in direction and attention span is derived from fossil fuels, but scalds the present. Robinson Jeffer's 1929 simile of humankind as a vast spreading fungus of slime-threads and spores may be too laggard a blight. Blindly accelerating, we burn through entire galaxies of other life, unimaginably interlinked and unmapped--amputating ourselves from the rest of Creation, whether destroyed or still undestroyed. The risks are unfathomable. And if you don't find this tragic, open your heart.

I'm back!

Yes, I've been away for awhile. :-) Here are some quick updates.

I spent nine amazing days down in Puerto Vallarta. Went with some friends from SF and Seattle and ran into other friends from SF and Portland that I didn't know were going to be there. And by the end of the week, we had made new friends from Houston, Chicago, San Diego, Los Angeles, Dallas... and PV, of course.

What a crazy week! I arrived around 11pm on the Saturday before Easter, met Tommy, Ken, Lynn, and Kevin, and before you could say "peso" we were out for a night of clubbing, some of us returning to the condo at dawn. That became our pattern for the week: dancing most of the night, sleeping until noon, and hitting the beach by 4pm. Perfect!

We met a great group of guys from Houston and had the opportunity to spend some time at the INCREDIBLE villa they had rented on the beach. Two elevators and eight people on staff! What a beautiful house! And such wonderful hosts.

Mid-week Danny and Aaron showed up to complete our group. We had begun to really know our way around and the rhythm of the city, at least La Zona Romantica where our condo and most of the gay scene is located.

I'd share more, but as they say, what happens in PV stays in PV. (Along with a pair of Prada sunglasses, a cell phone, and an ATM card that we managed to lose.)

MY RETURN TO SF WAS A REAL COMEDOWN... I left the club Monday morning leaving myself just enough time to shower and collect my luggage before heading to the airport. The top story that day was the Virginia Tech shooting. Yes, back to America, land of assault weapons.

Upon arriving home, I learned that my dear old friend Robert had a serious bicycling accident in Sydney and was in a coma. We were all on edge for most of the week, but by the following Sunday he had regained consciousness, and his strength and vitality gave us a good feeling that he would recover fully.

Robert is truly a unique man. I've known him for 13 years now. He's brilliant, handsome, quirky, and such an attentive host. Back when we traveled as a pack in the mid-90s, Robert was always quietly working his magic behind the scenes, making things happen: creating a makeshift BBQ out of a flower pot, keeping in touch via walkie-talkie, etc. And such an explorer... he certainly enrolled me in a few "interesting" experiments over the years. He has always followed his own path, successful not only by the common standard but also, I think by his own. He's held on to his integrity all of these years.

We're all pulling for you, Flak!!! Get well soon! xoxoxo

UPDATES

I've collected the minimum $2500 dollars I need to participate in the AIDS LifeCycle and am now halfway to my $5000 fundraising goal. I have to admit to being a little spooked about riding after Robert's accident, but I got back on my bike this week and went on a 40 mile ride with Justin. Still have plenty of training to do! If you'd like to contribute, check out my ride page.

A few updates on the mysterious loss of bee colonies across the country here, here, and here.

And also on the agriculture and food front, an interesting story on how U.S. agricultural policies intersect with the cost of food and the rise of obesity in America.

A couple of food-related news notes

Saw these two stories today...

First, the Food & Drug Administration is considering relaxing the rules around food irradiation and letting irradiated foods be labeled as "pasteurized." Pasteurization currently refers specifically to a process of killing bacteria by heating food to a certain temperature. In my book, changing the term amounts to misleading people. If food is irradiated rather than heated, it should say so.

Secondly, the FDA has also recently decided to allow the sale of cloned animals as food. My biggest concern is not of any specific danger in eating cloned animals. Rather, cloning livestock is another step down the path of industrializing agriculture. The resulting loss of biodiversity increases the risk of some devastating impact to our food supply. Witness the current unexplained loss of bee colonies that has the potential to seriously hinder the pollination of a wide variety of crops.

If you live in Califonia and are concerned about the cloned animal issue, a bill has been introduced requiring that food containing cloned animals is labeled as such. That leaves the choice with the consumer. You can support the bill here.

AIDS LIFECYCLE UPDATE: Yesterday I went on my longest training ride yet, 64 miles from Sausalito to Point Reyes. The last ten miles or so were a bit painful, but overall the day was great. And I was reminded of how fortunate I am to live in an area that has good access to so much open space. Marin County is gorgeous!

Thanks for the invite, James. xoxoxo

LifeCycle update

For those of you who are interested, things are picking up with my training for the AIDS LifeCycle. I did a 25 mile ride to Sausalito yesterday and finished the day feeling pretty good. (Yeah, I know, a short ride, but my first of any distance and it didn't feel bad at all. :-)

My new Yakima rack is on my car as of this morning, so I'm looking forward to some biking adventures.

And I hit $1585 in contributions today! (If you are interested in contributing, just click here.)

Moving in... and heading out! -- AIDS/LifeCycle

Yippee, I'm almost moved in. Sure, the apartment still looks like a disaster, but nearly every box has been emptied. Now it's just a matter of storing it all away and having a great big garage sale. :-)

Last March when I was packing up my house in Portland, I found myself astonished by how much stuff I had accumulated. It was impossible to avoid the question: does one person need all of this?

Now I'm shoehorning the contents of a two-bedroom two-story full-basemented home into a one bedroom apartment (thus, the garage sale :-). This move has forced me to go through every box; there's no option for just storing away those "mystery" boxes for the next move.

Better said: I'm choosing not to explore the other options. I thought about putting some of my furniture in storage, and boxes along with it, but I've had some pieces in storage for three years already. The process of purging feels... liberating. We attach memories and emotions to objects. In their presence we can be drawn back to the past. That's not always a bad thing, but too much of it is a distraction from the here and now.

And so I downsize my personal stash of stuff.

I must say, though, that there have been a few lovely surprises. A couple of years ago I thought Schick was discontinuing the three blade razor that I liked, so I went online and stocked up. When I opened a box last week and found 80--yes, eight zero--razor blades, you would have thought I'd struck gold.

It's been great to get my CDs back. And all of the clothes, shoes, and jackets have made it feel like Christmas around here.

I'm also really excited to have my bike back, though with the rain I haven't ridden yet.

THE BIKE ALSO GIVES ME THE OPPORTUNITY to do something that I've thought about doing for a long time but finally got off my ass and registered for this year: the San Francisco to Los Angeles AIDS/LifeCycle. The ride covers 545 miles in seven days. June 3rd is less than four months away, so I have plenty of training ahead of me.

I'm riding to raise money for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation. HIV and AIDS appeared on the scene just as I was about to come out; I'm sure I stayed in the closet for a few years longer than I would have otherwise. I have countless friends living with HIV; thankfully, I've lost very few to the disease.

HIV/AIDS has many faces. It's a manageable chronic illness here in the U.S. In the developing world, it's a devastating plague that continues to take people in the prime of their lives.

I'm doing the ride. If you'd like to support me, check out my LifeCycle page.