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?