You're cordially invited...

Fighting cancer isn't a 1-person job. It takes a team.

If you've ever battled cancer, you know it's not just you fighting this disease. It's your doctors, your nurses, your family and friends forming a team to support you.

If you haven't, but know someone who has fought themselves, or been a team member for a cancer fighter, you can see it on their faces that every supporter they had meant the world to them.

Running a 5k and riding a 30 mile bike ride may, at first glance, seem to be a solo event. But, in truth, with more of us running and riding as a larger group, it will be more meaningful, (not to mention easier) to get from start to finish.

My good friend, Mike Terry, with his support

For that reason, please consider registering, if you haven't already, and invite friends, family and co-workers of yours, doctors, care takers and loved ones that have dealt with cancer to run, walk or ride with you on Sunday, April 10. Ask them to pick their fight - the walk, run, ride or children's ride - and register today.

Bring a buddy and share with them what LIVESTRONG is all about. Train with them in the days before the ROCK the RIDE & RUN. Share with them why you're participating and for whom.


Challenge yourselves as a team, not just as individuals.

Pick your fight: Coq au Vin, Bourguignonne, Court Bouillon or Mojo?

I've confuzzled you, haven't I. (Better than me vajazzling you, trust me.)

Allow me to untangle things. On Thursday, March 31, we will be having our second Melting Pot Fondue-Raiser benefiting LIVESTRONG at The Melting Pot in White Plains, NY. For those that attended our March 10 Fondue-Raiser in Darien, CT you'll know that, despite the miserable rain storm (which shut down some cities just north of us!), we raised over $500 between raffle ticket sales and donations from the dinners!

Our goal for White Plains? Let's double those numbers - if we can fill the restaurant, I'm told there is a 100-150 person capacity. And if every one of those good folks orders off of the special LIVESTRONG menu, $10 of every meal will be donated. That means we have the potential to raise over $1000 for LIVESTRONG!

Why not?

Want me to sweeten that fondue pot? Ok. Can I throw in the chance to win some awesome prizes? $100 gift card to The Melting Pot? A free Teeth Whitening by RD Dental? Personal training with Demas Body Sculpting? How's about some handmade jewelry by COURSE? A Mary Kay Gift Basket? A super, surprise prize by Danny's Cycles? Or perhaps some autographed wristbands by cycling pros like Sergio Paulinho of Team RadioShack?

Every tables that participates in the Fondue-Raiser gets one ticket. But, for a small amount, you can buy additional raffle tickets throughout the evening!

So stir things up with us on Thursday, March 31 at The Melting Pot in White Plains, NY. Reservations start at 5pm and you can book through 10pm.

http://fairfieldwestchesterlivestrong.weebly.com/331---white-plains-fondue-raiser-at-the-melting-pot.html

Reservations are recommended and be sure to wear yellow to show your support!
http://www.opentable.com/the-melting-pot-reservations-white-plains?rid=17812&restref=17812
The Melting Pot
30 Mamaroneck Avenue, Lower Level,
White Plains, NY 10601
(914) 993-6358

Who says Video killed the Radio Star?

aka "Bring the Cheese On!"

Ok. Calling myself a "Radio Star" is an exaggeration. But that still totally applies to Tony Reno of WICC-AM in Bridgeport, CT. Thanks to the good folks at The Melting Pot (and their PR folks at CPR Media Services), a radio interview was arranged this morning at 9:00 am (stay tuned - I may have a link to a recording soon!). While it meant that I had to leave my darlings to catch the bus on their own (since no one called to say that the house burned down, or that two wandering gremlins were discovered roaming the streets, I can safely say they made it to the bus in one piece), I was thrilled to be able to promote the message of LIVESTRONG and the efforts we're putting forth locally to raise funds and awareness.

I'll admit it - I was afraid that I'd drop the f-bomb. Not that I drop the f-bomb that frequently, but, as I explained to Tom Arbon, one of the account managers at the station, it's like when you learn how to mountain bike. You're told to keep your eyes on the trail and not to look at that tree in front of you. Don't look at it - don't even think about it - because if you do, you're damned to crash into it. I was afraid that I'd be on live radio what I am on the mountain bike trail - the idiot that works so hard to avoid thinking about the tree that I crash into it and make a fool of myself.

But I didn't.

Tony & Mike and Stormin' Normin (from sister station WEBE-108) were so friendly, as was Erin and the station manager Ann McManus, that I felt so welcome as a guest. Erin told me that Tony makes it so easy to be interviewed, and she was absolutely right. We joked before going live, and next thing I know, we're talking about Lance on-air, the Foundation, how my son missed meeting Lance because "some guy" by the name of Patrick Dempsey was in the way while we were in Austin, and why I got involved with LIVESTRONG. Our first commercial break was upon us, and then we got to focus on our upcoming Melting Pot Fondue-Raisers, first in Darien on March 10, then in White Plains on March 31 as well as the ROCK the RIDE & RUN on April 10.

Hopefully, we'll get some new RSVPs and registrants. But, at the very least, we got to spread the word about LIVESTRONG, hopefully inspire some folks to join the fight and made great friends with the crew at Cumulus in Bridgeport.

Here is the interview:

Back in the saddle... and... wow, not what I was hoping for!

What my lips felt like I'd been doing.

I knew this morning's commute was going to hurt. Realistically, with the weather, the extreme cold temperatures, insane dumps of snow and the cities' absolute inconsistent street grooming, it's simply been too dangerous to commute to and from work this winter. Which bummed me out, though it gave my back time to continue healing. (I think these sprained sacreiliac ligaments are the injuries that just keep giving - as soon as I think I'm past the pain of the injury and can start easing into what, for me, is normal physical exertion, some gremlin decides to play cat's in the cradle with my ligaments and I'm back to square one.)

I dropped my car off at the gas station for inspection, and started what is my normal route from Scotts Corners in Pound Ridge, NY to the office in Downtown Stamford, CT. All was going well until I hit the uphill of Trinity Pass. Now, it usually takes me a couple of weeks after not riding for a while to be able to climb TP with my backpack on without having to stop or dismount and walk. (Many of you know this climb. It's not easy when you don't have a 20-pound backpack on when you're in pique condition.) What was scary, though, was heading into with an 18-mph pace and all of a sudden, being seized with a blinding coughing fit. And I mean blinding. Murphy's Law dictated that just as I was starting to take some deep inhalations preparing for the climb, a fierce cold gust of wind blew right into my face and into my lungs. I pulled off to the side of the road and dismounted. In so doing, the bike fell over into a pile of ice-mud-sand-salt-mush-chunks and the derailleur derailed itself. Let's see - 20-pound backpack, coughing fit, awkward incline, uneven road and a bike repair. Can you spell, "N-O-T-S-O-G-O-O-D-F-O-R-T-H-E-B-A-C-K"? Because, stupidly, I didn't take off my backpack when I leaned over to pick the bike up to flip it over to re-align the chain and all the bike's dangly bits. Do bear in mind, this hill is in the first 3 miles of my ride. I still have another 9 or so to go. Including a couple of hills.

The walk up was not fun. Between dragging my sorry butt up the hill, the backpack, the bike, the coughing fit which evolved into a constant wheeze along with the coughs, and the incline, I wasn't happy. And I was dreadfully late. Of course, if you know Trinity Pass, you'll also know it's not the most cell friendly. So I couldn't even call a co-worker to rescue me until I'd walked all the way to High Ridge Road and down a ways.

Might as well have used a nutmeg grinder on my lungs. Would have been more pleasant. 

After what seemed like an eternity, I got to the flat stretch that leads to High Ridge, re-mounted, and continued to ride. But I noticed that anytime I had to breathe with any force, the coughing returned. Violently. I was hocking up loogies like a frat boy dared to hit a tree across a field on a bored, drunken Saturday night.

I was really hating myself for riding into work.

I put in a few miles, and then as I was heading into the last incline before the downhill ride and Frogger moves to the office, the coughing started again. And it was ripping up my lungs. Yes, it was sunny. Yes, I was warm in body. But the wind was frigid and strong and hitting me in the face. My lungs were burning, and not in a good, "I'm a bad-ass cyclist" kind of way. More like a, "Oh, dear lord, is this your way of telling me that I've come down with my daughter's miserable chest cold and this ride has accelerated it into pneumonia?" I made it half-way up the slope and I had to get off. I had to get the backpack off because I couldn't open my chest up enough to breath.

I called in to work to see if one of my co-workers could pick me up, only a mile or two away. I felt like a dork. But what could you do? Knowing I had a dangerous couple of intersections ahead, including a quick, high-speed 3-lane shift from the far right to the far left amidst a major fare-way merge, I didn't want to risk a coughing fit that would prevent me from paying attention. I called every extension. No one was picking up. I called incessantly for almost 10 minutes. Finally, my CFO picked up. He told me everyone had disappeared, but the CEO, whose car he'd have to use, but he was on the phone. So I waited. And waited. And waited. By now, my lips were cracking, and I was so miserable that I didn't care if I got sandwiched between delivery trucks headed downtown and soccer moms en route from dropping kids off to their spa day appointments. Rica-squishing be damned, if I was meant to die today, it would be on two wheels and not standing like an idiot on the side of the road. I called the CFO, told him not to bother and I'd see him in a few.

I remounted and went as fast as I could. It was a miracle - my lane-shifts were traffic-free! I floated into the parking garage at the office and carried the bike cyclocross

This ride sucked. It flat out sucked.

I am reminded of the sage advice of Andrew Reischer who told me never to ride when it's below 30 degrees. And he advised me to take wind-chill into account.

Dear Andrew,
You are wiser beyond your comprehension. Ne'er shall I under appreciate your advice again and try and bad-ass my way through a ride.
All hail Andrew.

Needless to say, me thinks I'll have to ease into my usual commute with a bit more patience and reality. I'll drive a little further into town and then add the miles back on once my cycling legs, lungs and back are feeling better.

Of course, my commute is very different from my fun riding. Looking forward to taking my Madone out for a (backpack free) long ride one of these days soon...

Exercise in Futility?

I was in a mind-numbing business meeting the other day, and I Tweeted that I was in the throes of an "Exercise in Futility." That phrase stuck with me for the past couple of days, not only in reference to what was happening at work, but to life in general...

This is not me. Would that it were...

For example, those who read this blog and read about all the rides that I participate in, etc, but have never met me in person may be deceived into believing that I am visibly as fit as Kristin Armstrong. It should be noted that the only similarity that I have to this incredible athlete is that we are both blonde, Caucasian, American, and enjoy riding a bike. Yep, that's about it.

Doppelgänger

In truth, I resemble the Stay Puft Man more closely than Kristin.

Without sounding like I'm throwing myself a "pity party" here, I've got a thyroid condition that has rendered my metabolism to smithereens, and my back is still giving me grief. One of my greatest fears is that when the Madone that I won from RadioShack this past December (which is being built up as we speak) will break under me before I have the chance to clip my other foot in!

My only solace is that, despite a girth that would make a Sumo wrestler jealous, without looking at the "weight" columns, my blood work and lab results show good health.

That being said, it's incredibly frustrating to spin wheels and go nowhere.

So, as the 2010-2011 Ice Age comes to an end (that rodent DID see his shadow, right), and the roads are nearly clear enough that I can start commuting to and from work in safety, is all of this an exercise in futility? What's the end game like?

Of course, I'd like nothing else than to have Bar Rafaeli's figure at the end of the day and an entire peloton of admirers following me wherever I ride - on and off road.

A girl can dream, no?

In reality, no matter how crappy I feel that I look in my kit, how many times my thighs rub against each other as I pedal each stroke, I know what the end game is.

Keep rolling along and fighting for those who can't.

As much as my vanity and pride detest being subjected to near-nudity in skin-tight spandex, it's not futile.

Ride on. LIVESTRONG.

Save CT Cycling! Support the Municipality Bill!

We have until this weekend to submit written testimony for the municipal liability bill ( SB831). Please, please, tell everyone you know and ask them to write a paragraph or two and email to: jason.bowsza@cga.ct.gov. Be sure your subject line includes the word 'testimony' and SB831 and your message includes your name and residence.

Public testimony will show up online here: http://www.cga.ct.gov/asp/menu/CommDocTmyBill.asp?comm_code=ENV&bill=SB-00831&doc_year=2011

Background material/talking points that may be helpful when writing your testimony: 
http://www.saveourcttrails.org/Why%20do%20we%20need%20Recreational%20Liability%20for%20Municipalities%201.28.11.pdf