2024 will be my 12th consecutive PMC - a wonderful illustration both of how fast time goes and how much happens in a decade. Both a heartbeat and a lifetime ago, I came off my second bout with cancer and resolved to do this ride and support this cause every year from then on out, for as long as I am able to ride the miles. Through all of life's challenges, nothing I do lifts my spirits quite like the PMC.

One of the many cool and moving things about the Pan Mass is that everyone involved--from the riders to the volunteers to the thousands of people who stand all day at the ends of their driveways along the course, screaming their lungs out--has a story. Here is mine.

I am a two-time cancer patient. From round 1 in 2001 to round 2 in 2012 I did not think much about 'The Big C'--not after my first few clear check-ups, and certainly not after my five-year anniversary, at which point my remission pivoted into what I thought was a statistically-unassailable all-clear. Round 2 was more than a little bit.. startling. And it changed my life in a number of positive ways as things turned out--not least by convincing me that there are silver linings to be found in everything.

I registered for my first Pan Mass the day after my second cancer surgery, and rode it end to end three months later. In the process I raised more than $18,000 for Dana Farber--funds that were earmarked for research into the genetic markers for recurrent testicular cancer. The next year I rode again, and also ran the Boston Marathon for Dana Farber--my first distance run. And in 2015 I did the PMC again and my first IronMan. In July of 2018, at Lake Placid, I finished my second, an hour and 45 minutes faster than my first. Not bad as mid-life crises go, and--more important--this kind of thing evens out my cancer recurrence odds considerably.

I know better than most what a remarkable organization DF is, and what it means that every single dollar raised through these events go to research and treatment that benefits patients worldwide. My annnual events will vary, with one constant: I will ride the PMC each and every year, for as long as I am physically able.

I have often been asked a variant of the question: Do you really think that doing a ride (or a walk, or a wearing a bracelet, or name-your-effort) makes a difference? Underlying this is the unspoken sub-question, isn't most of this for show? I have thought a lot about that, mostly in the context of working through how it is that I have the gall year after year to go back to those incredibly generous people in my life to ask them again to consider a contribution. The answer to that question is an unequivocal 'yes,' for two reasons.

On an individual level, my doctors have told me in no uncertain terms that the best way I can mitigate my significantly elevated risk of recurrence is to stay in excellent physical condition. I have never been able to exercise too hard for its own sake. I need goals. And so I do these endurance events and in that way make a difference in very much the micro sense, helping to even out those somewhat-skewed odds for myself and my family. Call it a mid-life crisis, call it a survival mechanism, call it a psychosis--the point is, If round 3 sneaks up on me I'm not going to be left wondering if I did everything I could!

Much more importantly, I have spent a lot of time in waiting rooms with less fortunate cancer patients and their families. Some of those people are helped--and even saved--by the care providers and researchers at Dana Farber, the Brigham, and the countless other institutions that benefit from the cutting edge research that the money raised by the Pan Mass Challenge ($50 million plus last year alone, despite a global pandemic!!). One of the interesting things about going through the same cancer twice with more than a decade of separation is the first-person insight I got into the incredible evolution over that relatively short period of time in how cancer is treated. It is a little bit disconcerting to note how different best practices were in 2012 as compared to 2001. They were better in 2012, and doubtless are even better now, ten years later (much less radiation, for one thing). That is because of the research funded by your contributions.

So yes, events like these and the money that you contribute make a difference. One way or another, cancer impacts almost everyone. At Dana Farber and institutions like it, very smart and dedicated people work all day to lessen and eventually end those impacts. Riding, running, swimming, and asking for your support are the small ways I try to contribute to that--for myself, for my beautiful little girl, and for all of the families who have the scary experience of cancer yet looming down the road somewhere.

For the second time, this year I am riding with the Bad Apples, a group of six great guys who I met doing the Trek Across Maine with the athenahealth team, a year after my second bout and shortly into my riding journey. For a decade we have talked about tackling the PMC together. Last year, we made that a reality - and now they, too, are hooked on the magic that is the Pan Mass Challenge. This year we have an additional motivation: our Pedal Partner, Jackson, is a wonderful, funny, bright, 4 and a half year old boy who is currently undergoing treatment at Dana Farber for pediatric leukemia. Jax, his twin brother, Henry, and his parents are amazing inspirations as we gear up fundraising for this year's PMC. 

Thank you again for considering a contribution.
Best,
Dan

PS: Call me with any questions. I am always up to talk about the Pan Mass. 617-543-0322