After being truly overwhelmed with inspiration by my team, the rest of the PMC riders, volunteers, survivors, and cancer-fighting-warriors during my first ride in 2024, I will be riding again with Team Wolf Pack in 2025.
Riders choose to ride in the PMC for a variety of reasons, most of which are deeply personal. I ride for more time. Time is perhaps our most valuable asset, and for all of us, it is also a finite resource. Therefore, we should all maximize the limited time we have, avoiding things that waste it or force us to spend it in ways that are not fulfilling to us or meaningful to the people in our lives.
Cancer is a thief of time, and it feeds on this most valuable asset, forcing those whom it afflicts to lose at least some of their time fighting for more, and in many cases, taking all one has left. Not a great way to spend time.
This year, it is estimated that the disease will steal away the remaining time of nearly 610,000 individuals in the US. This is time that could be spent with friends and family, traveling the world, reading a new book from a favorite author, or seeing a new, anticipated movie. Time stolen could be spent creating art, advancing in one's career, or, in the most tragic of cases, learning the alphabet.
Cancer stole at least 40 years from my Auntie Sue; time she could have used to travel with the love of her life and spend their hard-earned retirement. Time stolen would have instead been spent laughing with her younger brothers and sisters at a family cookout, and supporting them through their hardest moments, as only the oldest sibling could do.
In her time, Auntie Sue could have met her granddaughter, and, beaming her signature smile, she could have shared with pride the many successes of both of her sons.
If lung cancer hadn't been so greedy, my Papa could have used his stolen time to continue his annual trips to Florida with my Nonnie, and to watch the Red Sox win the World Series three more times. Time snatched from him could have been used to share the wild stories of his life with my partner (second-hand storytelling just doesn't do them justice) over a dirty martini, and to answer clarifying questions I still have about some of those anecdotes.
In his time, Papa would have loved to laugh with my nephew, his great-grandson, watching on in a white T-shirt and dress pants as he splashed in the pool, and as he learned to ride a bike.
I wrote the above about my grandfather and aunt last year, when reflecting on why I was riding in my first PMC, and I hoped to never have to add to it. However, while preparing for my second ride this year, I was reminded again of just how persistently ruthless this disease is when my cousin Stanley lost his battle in June, after several years in remission.
Stanley's stolen time would have been spent with his wife Marianne (Fred), likely at Jack's Bar in Warren, where he made countless friends since purchasing the bar in 1990. As a fixture of the community and an avid supporter of The Jimmy Fund and Dana-Farber himself, he hosted an annual golf tournament which raised thousands for cancer treatment and research over the 34 years since it's founding. No doubt, if cancer hadn't taken his time, he would have spent it continuing this annual tradition, which will now be done in his honor.
While all three spent their time well, I often think about what they could have done with the time that cancer stole.
This is where cancer has touched me the closest, although many others that I have known and loved have been affected in one way or another. A staggering 1 in 5 people are estimated to be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetimes, and therefore the statistics tell us that we will all encounter The Time Thief at some point in our lives.
The PMC is leading a charge to beat cancer and take back the time it steals from countless individuals. 100% of every rider-raised dollar goes directly to support the Jimmy Fund and Dana-Farber Cancer Institute's commitment to finding a cure.
It's fitting to me that my part in the PMC takes little other than time: time to train, time to practice, time to fundraise, and time to ride. This is time that I choose to give to an effort more than worthy of my most valuable asset, and it is not lost on me how grateful I should be to be able to make that choice. I hope that my ride will one day allow someone else the opportunity to choose how to spend their time: whether learning something new, doing something they love, spending time with someone they love, or, really, just doing something better with their time than fighting cancer.
I ride for a future where Papa, Auntie Sue, and Stanley's time wouldn't have been cut short and will share with them some of mine as I carry them with me across the finish line.
I thank all of my supporters for their generosity, and I hope that I can make you all proud again this year. Here's to another year of bringing us closer by the mile to ending cancer for good (and to a little less headwind on the final leg).
