Seeking motivation...

Well, yesterday was a bust. I didn't ride. I didn't canoe. I got wrapped up in the Olympic equestrian cross-country events and then I had an interview. Lame, I admit.

Today, I've got a lot of housework to do, some planning for the upcoming ROCK the RIDGE benefiting LIVESTRONG on September 23 with my partner-in-MTB-crime, Sean. But the weather doesn't look like it's going to cooperate for a ride, either.

So this self-motivation thing hasn't been working so well. I guess my own cancer journey isn't stimulating enough for me.

As I reflect on what a lazy slob I've become (well, I've always been a slob, but the lazy part is relatively new post-cancer), I think it's time that I rely on an oldie but a goodie when it comes to motivation - I look to YOU to kick my ass into the canoe and/or onto the bike.

Since the canoe is much more convenient in terms of location (the lake is literally a couple of hundred feet away from my house), for every $18 that is donated to my LIVESTRONG Challenge account daily (even once I find a job), I will canoe 1 clockwise lap around the circumference of Lake Kitchawan - that is a 2-mile lap.

Donate $25, and your lap will be counter-clockwise (as that is how you go against "current" in the lake). If I get 10 donations in one day, I will canoe 10 laps.

The bike, sadly, poses more difficulty. Because I live at the bottom of a valley, it would mean a 3-4 mile climb up onto decent roads, with some hills close to a 10% gradient. Pardon my French, but it's a bitch even when one is in great fitness. Not me.

Therefore, I would have to load up the bike and drive to a new location to start the ride. Given the state of my fitness, it would have to be relatively flat, so I'd be shooting at the Norwalk/Westport beaches, a ride I was introduced to on the Blooming Metric 3 years ago. So, for a donation of $36 or more, I will ride the Norwalk/Westport beaches.

Want to make me suffer? For a donation of $72, I will attempt (I can't make promises!) to ride up to Sherwood Island, which includes some climbs, and back to Norwalk, which includes a couple of more if I take the hilly route.

I want to do this. I really do. But wanting to do it hasn't been getting me out the front door. There is too much anxiety and fear. But you all have made me fearless over the years - from my first mountain bike races, to taking on ridiculous distances. And this isn't lip service - every single time I've looked to quit, I think of all of you supporting me, investing in me, and I stop myself. If I've ever quit an event, it's been with aching guilt.

You really do motivate me. Please, help me regain my fitness again. Help me get back on my bike.

Choose Your Own Adventure

Not everyone can ride a bike like Lance Armstrong. Not everyone can run a marathon. But we can all do something to fight cancer on Sunday, April 29. For those that choose to run, walk or ride their bikes, gather at the Trinity Corners Shopping Center on Westchester Avenue in Pound Ridge, NY to participate in the 3rd Annual ROCK the RIDE & RUN.

"Although I prefer to ride my bike, I know so many people that want to do something to join the fight against cancer, so 3 years ago, the kids and I put this event together," Rica Mendes, LIVESTRONG Leader explains. "We wanted to make sure that everyone - regardless of their athletic ability - had the chance to participate and help us raise awareness and funds in the fight against cancer."

This year is different for Mendes for a number of reasons. First, she has added a Virtual Participant category - this way, you register for $36, and you can choose to join the ROCK the RIDE & RUN anywhere - your home, your gym, the beach - anywhere in the world - and raise funds and awareness. Second, this is her first year participating as a cancer survivor.

Only 3 months after last year's ROCK the RIDE & RUN, Mendes got the word that she had breast cancer.

"I was floored. It came out of left field completely. Fortunately, I was already established within the LIVESTRONG network that it was much easier for me to build my support system. But it was still a struggle. I can only imagine how much more terrifying it is for people who don't already have that system in place.

"That's why this event, and support for the Lance Armstrong Foundation is even more important to me now. I don't ever want to hear about a cancer fighter feeling lost and like they have no place to go for any kind of resource - emotional, practical, physical, etc. LIVESTRONG does not discriminate - if you have cancer, you're automatically part of the family. It's just a matter of figuring out what we can do to help you and your family through your fight."

Registration is now open for the ROCK the RIDE & RUN. Go to http://www.active.com/5k-race/pound-ridge-ny/3rd-annual-rock-the-ride-and-run-benefiting-livestrong-2012 between now and April 28, 2012 at 11:59pm EST in order to register.


If you cannot attend, but you would like to contribute to Rica's fight against cancer, please feel free to make a donation at http://laf.convio.net/goto/RicaRocksAustin2012.

It's a beautiful day...

It's not secret that I hate winter. I make no bones about it. If I had my druthers, I'd be living in Austin, Jerusalem or San Francisco - cities where winter is but a passing thought - nothing more than a novelty. That's not to say I'm not a proud New Yorker - any Bostonian can tell you that I'm very proud of my pinstripes and being from the empire state. But I loathe cold weather.

So, days like this weekend ordinarily have me jazzed. I'm out on the bike, I'm out with the kids, I'm outside.

But not this year.

As much as I've been jonzing to get back on the bike, get back into a normal physical routine of any kind, part of me is scared. Well, scared is the wrong word. Apprehensive. Of what? I don't know. I've always been a bit of a tomboy. I've always loved getting down and dirty, getting physical. I've never been afraid to sweat.

And yet, I find myself coming up with every excuse not to go outside.

Perhaps last night's grilled dinner on the deck was my first step outside of my house since the cancer diagnosis. But my doctors have me so nervous about straining myself too much, causing another infection, pushing it, going against my natural instinct to ignore pain and discomfort and power through things that I don't trust myself.

I don't trust that mowing the lawn isn't too much work. I don't trust that doing the desperately needed chicken pick of trash collection (months of garbage being poorly tossed into the garbage cans, raccoons raiding bags, etc, has left bits and pieces of junk on my property) is going to pull the muscle just so, and cause injury.

But I want to go outside. I want to romp. I want to garden. I want to do all the fix-it jobs around the house again.

And I want to ride again.

At what point does the patient truly become the survivor?

Why do I do this to myself?

I had a friend that resurfaced after several years and visited me and the kids a couple of years ago. I've always been the queen of self-deprecating and sarcastic humor, so calling me, or a loved one "stupid" isn't an insult, it's a term of affection. He, however, took great offense when I called my son stupid. Said friend, it should be noted, has never been one to pick up on social cues or tone very well, so I had to explain that my son knew I wasn't actually calling him stupid, or that he knew I didn't think he was actually a dummy, but that the affectionate tone I used, etc, was inclusive and a term of endearment.

That said, I can honestly tell you that I am stupid. Or stubborn. Or delusional. Here's why.

It's been just under 1 month since my last chemotherapy treatment. It's only been about a week or so that I've been able to touch my toes. I've only just begun pilates and some form of organized movement, outside of rolling in and out of bed, toddling in and out of the car, etc.

And yet, I've committed to not only raising $1,000 by May 1 for Team LIVESTRONG, but to ride the 43-mile TD Bank 5 Boro Tour as a V.I.P. with my son. No, I haven't learned, I'm still banging my head against that wall.

If you've been following my blog for some time, you'll know I rode it last year. I had a rather unfortunate mishap involving the tip of my saddle, my "delicate parts," and gravity which made the final stretch of the ride most exciting. And I went on, at length (ad nauseum) about how out of shape I was last year.

Well, never one to underperform, I'm entering into this venture even less in shape than I was last year. (Huzzah for me!) I have to tell you, despite that unfortunate collision, this was a tough ride. The ramp leading up to the Queensboro bridge is my NYC Kryptonite, as it nearly broke me before I'd even made it onto the bridge. And the approach to and the ride over the Verrazano is nothing to sneeze at.

But, I'm committed. (Or perhaps I should be?) Why?

Because cancer can't stop me. Chemotherapy isn't going to stop me. It may slow me down, it may force me to struggle harder to regain whatever "normal" feels like. But it's not the end of me. I've got fight in me, still, and now I've got one more weapon in my arsenal when attacking a Challenge like this one: REVENGE.

I'm taking revenge out on cancer. I'm taking revenge for losing my breasts. For losing my hair. For losing my eyelashes. (Though, I was thankful about losing leg hair, etc, allowing me to retire the razor and body wax for a while.)

Back this Cancer Vigilante, would ya? $1,000 by May 1 sounds like a lot, but let me tell you, a little bit every day helps tremendously. Please make a donation today - any amount is appreciated.