When you ride the PMC the tag on your jersey and bike denotes how many times you have ridden and should you wish to share it, if you are living proof. I chose to include this information, my tag read - Year 1, Living Proof. I was caught off guard as I rode out at 5am last August 5th when fellow riders called out things like have a great first ride, glad you are here and you will be back...over and over, throughout two days and nearly 200 miles. The same warm welcome, words of encouragement and the invitation, come back.

I was forewarned by veteran riders that the PMC was physically challenging, I trained and I was prepared. I was told it would be an emotional weekend and to ready myself for all the feelings that may come. I had no idea how emotional the ride would be.

Mile after mile, town after town bystanders come out and cheer riders on. People holding up signs of encouragement and thanks, so many “thank you for riding”, “I am here because of Dana Farber”. Riding into a rest stop and seeing pictures of kids who have been treated at the Jimmy Fund, the tears started rolling. The volunteers, so many people who all come out to make a difference, together- it is powerful. Riding out from Mass Maritime with Team Martignetti before dawn, over the bridge to see the sunrise along the Cape Cod Canal, beautiful and inspiring. I rode past what was referred to as “the hedge” at Cape Cod Sea Camp. This was my sons experience with cancer, he stood here as a little kid and cheered all the PMC riders on. There were a lot of tears on that stretch of 6A.

The last 20 miles, Wellfleet to Provincetown, something shifted. I could not really take in the cheers, the cowbells and the signs held up on the sides of the road. Those last 20 were mine. My time to say thank you, my time be grateful, my time to reflect.

Riding the PMC, raising money for Dana Farber, is my opportunity to give back, I am so fortunate that I can. Yes, they were right, you will be back. I hope you will support me again this year.

Below is my donation letter from 2023, my first ride, I feel it is important to keep it here.

I am Heather and I am nearly 50 years old; I am a mother, sister, wife and friend but I am in the 13%. I am that one in the 1 in 8. In December of 2014 I joined the club you don’t want to be a part of. I was 41 when I got the call that the pathology had come back, it was carcinoma, I had breast cancer. I was shocked and I was scared. I put on a brave face. I welcomed the abundance of love and support from family and friends. I was fortunate to be surrounded by a strong and giving community. Offers of doctor recommendations and the names of the best specialists. Phone numbers of the many other woman who shoes I now walked in. Rides, food, childcare, indeed there were moments I felt smothered in care. Yet with so many people rallying around me, I still felt very much alone and frightened.

The only place I felt understood and not alone was when I walked through the doors of Dana Farber. There was so much to do: genetic counselors, reconstruction consultations, more testing, treatment plans, waiting, surgeries, more waiting, more surgeries and more grueling waiting, more pathology, it seemed never-ending. Throughout my journey, there was someone on my team there to hold my hand and walk beside me. I was never alone at Dana Faber.

I was anxious on my first few visits to meet my team. Yet every time I entered the building, something shifted. I felt safe at Dana Farber. It wasn’t always the doctor in the white coat but maybe the car attendant, the person at the scheduling desk or the employee who simply held the elevator for you. Everyone I met, somehow in some special and unique way, made me feel safe in a time in my life where the safety of my future was unknown.

Then of course, there are the others. Everyone else in the building with the yellow tag clipped to their clothes. The patients with walkers, wheelchairs and IV poles. The patients whose parents stood stoically by their side, the patients whose grown children buoyed and supported them. All of us, team cancer, every single other patient in that building that offered a caring smile or sometimes just a moment of knowing eye contact that says – you are not alone, we are all safe here.

My son Benjamin was 12 when I went through treatment. If you know me, you know that I am a high energy person. I have two speeds fast and faster. During radiation and the weeks following I napped every day. I think this scared my son more than anything, Mom napping! Having grown up spending summers on Cape Cod, Benjamin was very familiar with the Pan Mass Challenge. To assure my son that his Mom would be ok, I told him that someday I would join the ride. It has been eight years; I need to keep my word to my son.

I am here today, and I am healthy because I had a doctor that encouraged me to start my screening at 35 due to family history. I had access to the very best and most current treatments. I am fortunate beyond measure. I ride this year to help every patient feel safe, understood and never alone. I ride to give back and support Dana Farber.