Monday, June 13, 2011

Booty Time: F--- Cancer

Fuck Cancer.

There, I said it. Think of me what you will for dropping the f-bomb. Sorry if your kids were watching.

Sorry if you’re appalled that there is a word available to me in the English language that allows me to express exactly how I feel about this piece of shit disease...and that I used it.

Actually, no. I don’t apologize.

Say it with me.
Fuck Cancer! It feels really good, doesn’t it?

Scream it at the top of your lungs.


Wow! You’ve been wanting to do that for a while now, haven’t you?

That’s okay. This is a judgement-free zone.

When I look back, I think it would’ve been nice to stand next to her while she was in that bed...while she was wasting away; hairless, colorless...lifeless...and, if only for a few seconds, to tip-toe to that hospital window, disregard my parents words, and allow all that anger and resentment to fly out of my mouth, out of my pores, out of that window, with a cathartic bellowing of those two words.

But, one of those words was forbidden to me back then.

Cancer stole my Grandmother when I was 12. I’ve been telling this story for many years now trying to find a way to heal. Trying to beat the crap out of cancer. But, curiously, the most important thing I’ve learned over all these years is that my story is not so different from yours.

You taught me that last year.

Last year, I asked you to submit to me the names of your loved ones who had battled cancer; victorious or not. I wanted to take them with me on the 24 Hours of Booty, pinned to my jersey, as a an honor to their fight...because this disease is so much bigger than me.

You blew me away last year. I’m not understating that. I learned so much about you and your loved ones. I connected with you the likes of which I never thought possible. The stories you told me. The hurt. The triumph. You shared it all with me. I was equally humbled and empowered...for me it was amazing, but more importantly, I hope your willingness to share helped you because cancer sucks.

I don’t know how to top what you did for me. I’ve thought about it for almost a year. I’ve contemplated how to return the favor to you. I want to inspire you the same way you inspired me. But, how?

By riding further than I ever have in 24 hours.

301 miles within a 24 hour period is not a claim a lot of cyclists can make. I did it 2 years ago and I remember the hurt all too clearly. I thought I’d have forgotten it by now. Unfortunately, I have the video, which I barely remember making, to remind me:

On that day, I took myself to a place that was far beyond the reach of what most humans will allow themselves to experience by choice; a place that completely broke me both physically and emotionally; a place that changed me for the good...and I’m going there again.

The goal this year is to exceed 301 miles. And I’m taking your personal messages with me. This year, with your donation, write a personal message about how cancer has affected you.

Lost someone close to you? Let them know they are not forgotten.

Know someone fighting cancer right now? Write some words of encouragement.

Know a survivor? Tell them how they’ve inspired you.

Are you a survivor? Send others a message of hope.

Write whatever you want to whomever you want. I’ll have all the messages posted at my campsite during the event.

So, how do you add a message? When you make a donation online, you will see a box for a Personal Message. Write whatever you want in that box. Not donating online? Email, Facebook or a restaurant napkin are fine, too. In any case, I will send you an email confirming I have received your message. Here’s the link to my fundraising page:

Thank you for your donation.

Fuck Cancer. Cancer sucks. Booty doesn’t.


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