As you might know, I rode the 200-mile Pan Mass Challenge last year for the first time. It was mentally and physically challenging. We rode through torrential rains the entire first day of 110 miles. About six miles from the final stop on the first day, another rider hit a puddle and skidded into my bike. I flipped and landed face down on the road. Miraculously, my bike was fine. Unfortunately, I didn’t fare so well. At the time, I thought I had broken a rib. The doctor in the medical tent told me there wasn’t anything they could do for a broken rib, if that is what I had, so I decided to continue the ride the next day. With 85 miles to go and a whole lot of Motrin, I rode to Provincetown.
Some people have asked me why I continued. It’s a good question. Mostly, I kept thinking of the 26 people with cancer and their families for whom I was riding. It came down to this…People with cancer can’t quit, so there was no way I was going to quit either. I knew my injuries would heal. That isn’t true for cancer patients. In some way, finishing the ride was a small victory over cancer.
As it turned out, I had three broken ribs and a partially collapsed lung. I was sidelined for a few months. So, when it came time to sign up for the PMC again in January, I thought about the incessant rain and the crash. My first response was, “Hell no!”
Then, I ran into Leslie.
Leslie (not her real name) and I have been in many fitness classes together at the gym over the past few years. She is a tall, thin, beautiful woman with white hair, striking blue eyes, and an infectious smile. I hadn’t seen Leslie for a while when we ran into each other again. I told her I had missed seeing her and admired her very stylish short haircut. She replied with a smile, “It’s not by choice. I have lymphoma.” In a serene and peaceful voice that I will always remember, she went on to tell me about the ten rounds of chemotherapy that she had endured over several months. She explained how the chemicals cause vomiting and exhaustion, and how she spent many days curled up in a hospital bed. She said the chemotherapy ravages your stomach and intestines, so it is difficult to tolerate food. She laughed and added with a smile, “I eat baby food now because I don’t have any taste buds or stomach lining.” She confided that she had to suffer through all the indignities that come with body systems no longer working as they should. She told me how she lost all her hair and eyebrows. She then smiled again and said, “But I’m so happy to be back here. I used to think Chair Yoga was silly but now I barely get through it and have to go home to take a nap.” She explained that being curled up for so long requires you to teach your muscles to stretch out again.
Most striking of all, Leslie said, “The lymphoma will come back, and when it does there is nothing the doctors can do.” I nearly cried, but Leslie smiled again. She didn’t say any of this with bitterness or sadness or self-pity. She spoke with strength and gratitude. She is grateful that she is alive today. I was inspired and humbled. I thought of so many things I take for granted every day when all Leslie hopes for is just another beautiful day cancer free.
Once again, I was reminded that we cannot stop trying to conquer cancer. I went home from the gym that day and signed up for the PMC…for Leslie; for my brother-in-law Mark who is so dearly missed every day; for my neighbor Dan who was buried last January, leaving behind many family and friends who miss him so much (he's working his magic from heaven for us!). I think of my friend, Donna, every time her two boys come over to hang out with my son. I know she is watching over them. I will ride for Jim and Kirstin who spent the first months of their wedding engagement in a terrible struggle through chemo, and Kirsten is now cancer free. I will also ride for the many others who I rode for last year: Jenny’s husband Vinney who died of colon cancer, Opie and his magical wood carvings, 2-year-old baby Jonah who has a brain tumor, Linda’s Dad, Jack’s cousin JoAnne who is survived by three beautiful daughters; gym owner Mike, who left behind a town who was inspired through him to achieve better health and fitness, and so many more. It seems that no family has gone untouched.
We need to win this battle now. Together, we can. Since its start in 1980, the Pan-Mass Challenge has raised over $650,000,000 for adult and pediatric cancer care and research at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute through the Jimmy Fund. I ride for state-of-the-art research. I ride to raise awareness and to honor all those who have died from cancer and to give a fighting chance to those brave people who are still in the battle. I ride because the PMC is the single most successful charity in the battle against cancer.
Here’s how you can help…
I am raising $10,000
100% of every donation to a rider goes directly to Dana Farber Cancer Institute.
This year again, please join my “200 Lives/200 Miles” campaign. For a donation of any amount, I will add your loved one to my list of people for whom I will be riding. Please select a particular mile number (1-200), and I will think of that person during that specific mile of my ride (email me at trishcoreypmc@gmail.com to send a photo and a mile number).
It’s easy to donate. Please click the link on this page and donate today! Please help me reach my goal of $10,000. Thank you so much for your generosity and for joining me in the fight against cancer. Together, we will make a difference!
With Gratitude,
Trish
