Cancer affects everyone. My goal is to raise $10,000 to contribute directly toward a cure. All amounts are needed. Please donate as much as you feel you can. Thank you.
In 2022, I'm dedicating my ride to my father.
I never expected to write this, but I have to.
I'm dedicating my 2022 to my father Hank Reposa.
He's currently going through chemotherapy at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.
This is very recent. The advancements made by researchers, scientists, and doctors that staff Dana-Farber have helped make this a treatable diagnosis. Donate.
It's simple math. I ride 192 miles over 2-days, and you donate.
https://profile.pmc.org/JR0481
I suffer in the blistering 90+ heat with little escape from the sun, for 6-8 hours each day. You donate.
https://profile.pmc.org/JR0481
My father is the one who showed me to volunteer and donate when you can. He's given countless hours of time selflessly to veterans for decades.
He's my biggest supporter outside of my wife.
#fuckcancer
In 2021, I'm riding as Living Proof
Here is a personal story that I've never told...
Many of you may not be aware, but I am a cancer survivor. Back in 2008, I woke up one day and my left testicle was causing me discomfort. I shrugged it off as a groin pull. The next morning it was swollen and I got a bit worried. Within a few hours of waking, I just couldn't take the pain. It was agonizing. I couldn't even put on a pair of pants.
That's when I knew I had to call a doctor. Even though I was approaching my 30s, I didn't have a Primary Care Physician. I was still a bit reckless and felt indestructible. My head immediately went to Cancer! How much is this going to cost me?! - which is a crazy thought.
After an ultrasound confirmed the growth was due to a tumor, the doctor immediately jumped into action and got me on the schedule for removal. Recently married, my new bride and I took the extravagant expense of a taxi to the hospital! My parents flew up from Florida to take care of me post-surgery. We all somehow crammed into our 400 sq. ft. 1 bedroom apartment in the East Village. Ha!
I just remembered... We lived on the 6-floor of an old tenement building. I had to walk up those stairs after I came out of surgery. In hindsight, it's not my proudest moment, but I refused help. I made it a point to walk up all those steps myself.
We waited anxiously for another week for the report of spreading.
I still have all the email exchanges with the doctor. He tersely emailed me in a typical doctor style.
Very good news - No spread to cord pure seminoma no chemo unless catscan shows big lymph nodes will explain it all tomorrow
Epilogue - Within a week I noticed the issue and was operated on. 13 years later I still have a bit of scar tissue and the occasional numbness, but I'm glad I didn't ignore it too long. It could have ended very differently.
Many of us will have a similar brush with cancer, but some of us won't be so lucky. Think of this donation as paying your future self when they find a cure for the type of cancer that affects your life.
More reasons to donate from my 2019 ride.
A story from my 20s...
In my early 20s, like most at that age, I was busy having a good time. Still living at home after college, I hadn't really grown up yet. I thought life would always be carefree. Unfortunately, I soon found out how wrong I was. My grandmother was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer.
As I child I had spent nearly every weekend visiting her and my grandfather. She would always be sitting in her chair knitting or playing cards, while the grandkids were running around. I look back fondly on those days.
The last time I saw her she was emaciated and had the tell-tale headwrap on. Amazingly her character was still strong. She was stoic, not wanting to burden everyone with the news, and even internally accepting the pain she was going through with no outward complaints at all. Unfortunately, it wasn't even a close fight. Breast cancer took her life about 5 months after her diagnosis.
I’m dedicating this ride to her memory.
Another story from my childhood...
When I was a child, I went to visit my mother's adoptive parents. It was always a special trip. My nana worked at a chocolate factory! On this occasion, however, I noticed something was a bit odd. My grandfather was laying down on a couch and he was surrounded by gifts! He told my brother and me that we could pick out any gift we wanted for ourselves. I couldn't believe our luck! We tore into the wrapping paper immediately. It was strangely a short visit, but I said goodbye and kept a firm grip on my new toy.
My grandfather died a few days later. Back in the 80s when the dreaded C word was heard, it was almost always a death sentence. We have all lost too many people to cancer.
Many cancer survivors have their future due to the tenacity of organizations like Dana-Farber to find a cure. I am also a survivor. How glad I am that we live in the future, but the fight is not over.
