for courage ~ for hope ~ for a cure

The weekend for the Breast Cancer Ride has come and gone. What a bittersweet feeling! I committed myself to my mission and even though there were plenty of bumps along the training road, I never lost sight of what my end goal was and that goal alone gave me the determination to push myself further than I imagined. That goal was reached, smashed actually when I raised nearly $500 OVER my $1500 goal, much needed funds for two vital breast cancer support organizations. And now I find myself going through what I'm certain veteran participants have felt in years passed - the let down. Maybe if this was a return ride for me it wouldn't feel the same, but I can only imagine, as a survivor, the emotion will be there each and every year I participate. It's the calm after the storm that I am having difficulty with, trying to find my next soul searching journey. My let down isn't merely physical, but emotional just the same, if not more. I clearly remember in the beginning, when I first started this journey, that I said it was going to be one of the most physically and emotionally demanding journeys I have ever been on. It was exactly that. Don't get me wrong; when I talk of a let down it most definitely isn't that I was let down by any portion of the event itself. It's the idea that something I pushed so hard for over and over again for months is now done. It's the fact that this one event was responsible for pulling me out of my depression darkness, for giving me something to work for, something to live for. It's scary, I'm scared. But after all of this is said and done, I know I have the strength and the worth to carry on. This ride and the support of every single one of you who have taken the time to read my story has given me the hope that good things are to come.

The back of my helmet.

I feel great pride in knowing I have accomplished what I set out to do, yet I feel a heaviness in my heart to know that this venture in my life is over. I learned more about myself in the last six months than I have in my 34 years on this planet. It's not until we allow ourselves to really let it all go that we can truly see and honestly feel what it is our lives have been, what they are and what they will become. I have cried more, laughed harder and found every single way possible to capture seconds of moments that I would have passed over before. I am happy again and really quite content.

SO very happy to have made it to the first pit stop on Day One.

Going out of this journey, my wish is for every one of you to experience an event like The Breast Cancer Ride. Whether it's cancer, ALS, MS, Lupus - awareness for diseases that kill our loved ones is so extremely vital. If every great leader that has ever existed in this world kept his mouth shut because he only had one person to talk to, we'd have no great leaders. We all start out small but when you have passion about something and when you have passion coupled with the pain of loss - having just one person listen to you means everything!

Signs of encouragement from Travis' bike.

I was in awe when we reached the starting line for the ride. Hundreds of cyclist of every shape and size , young and old, wearing the craziest of helmets and pink galore where lined up and ready to take on the two day, 100+ mile ride. I was surprised that I had no nerves, but looking back it shouldn't have surprised me at all. Being surrounded by hundreds of people who obviously care deeply about the effects breast cancer has, who are fighting the same fight I am - well no wonder I felt like I was at home. There were smiles and tears and hugs and high-fives. There were banners and signs and streamers and pom-poms. And when the starting line opened up there was a roar of clapping and whooping and I couldn't help but feel immense pride. Between a huge smile and tears I waved good-bye to our personal cheering section (Darin, Dawson, Emilie, my sister-in-law Chantel and her daughter's Dylan and Berkley) and Travis (my incredible brother-in-law/personal coach) and I started our trek from the Mall of America to Treasure Island Resort.

Start line at the Mall of America.

I must have been naive (by choice) in regards to the difficulty of the ride route because Holy Buckets did it kick my ever loving a**! I went into this ride feeling very prepared and in great shape, ok well not perfect shape but definitely better than I had been! After the second "mountain" climb I knew I was in for a very very very long day. I honestly don't know if I would've made it without Travis as it took him some major coaching to get me up those "mountains". Ok, so they were hills but they were HUGE! The pit stops every 10-15 miles were always needed and the cheers from supporters made it so much easier to get back on the bike after a short rest. Our cheering section was incredible - moving from pit stop to pit stop with their signs and pom-pom, screaming loud and clear as we came down the road. At many points they were jumping out of trees like we were the next best thing to Brad and Angelina! SO awesome and SO needed, especially after I took a spill coming out of the first pit stop! As captain of the Nanny Nanny Boo Boos I felt it only necessary to have an actual boo boo!

Our very own paparazzi.

Closer to the end of the ride my stomach began to do some complaining and at one point I thought we were going to have to pull off so I could use the ditch as a toilet but I rallied and kept going. All the while I kept thinking - I will not get sick, I will not get sick. And with each pit stop we reached we were that much closer to our overnight camp spot. It was a nice encouragement to count the miles down instead of up so after each mile I'd call out -  13 miles and then 12 miles and so forth and so on. Travis and I road into camp just short of six hours after we left the start line. I was SO happy and SO proud that I accomplished the 48.7 miles of day one. It was overwhelming to walk into bike parking and see hundreds of bikes hanging on the racks. The support for breast cancer awareness was loud and proud in that room.

Hundreds of bikes filled the event center as riders came in at the end of Day One.

After a much needed shower and a short rest, the whole "Nanny Nanny Boo Boos" team/family headed down to the event center to enjoy a wonderful supper and program. There was a piano man who took requests and dedications, there was Ride Feud, there was a fashion show of ride wear and also a massage and chiro station. I took advantage of the chiro station and got a huge laugh from the people waiting when the chiropractor got a huge rumble of pops out of my back and I let out a very loud, very dramatic "oooohhhhh"! Well, it felt good!

Shortly before the main program ended, Travis and Chantel took all of the kids to the hotel swimming pool as a treat for being so incredibly wonderful all day while Darin and I stayed to watch the fashion show. Shortly before the main program ended one of the speakers asked for all survivors to raise their hands. I was shocked to see there were very few survivors. This hit me so hard. My eyes filled with tears as I realized that the majority of people riding, crewing, volunteering had never actually felt cancer within their body and yet they were a part of this event, supporting and working incredibly hard for loved ones, co-workers and even strangers. I was silenced by the enormity of love in that room.

And then my night went from wonderful to terrible. While we were sitting there I could feel my stomach start to turn a bit. I figured it was due to the exertion of the ride but as time passed I began to feel fevered. Before I knew it the shakes had started and a major headache had come on. I knew what was happening but I refused to acknowledge it. I told Darin I needed to get to bed so I was ready for the 58.6 miles the next day and he just looked at me without saying a word even though I could tell he knew everything I was feeling. Realizing that I am not nearly as good at hiding my feelings from my husband as I thought I was is one of the many lesson I have learned during this journey.

I think I slept a total of three hours that night. Of course being in a strange bed after biking nearly 50 miles in crazy hotness (and in the mountains!!) isn't the most relaxing of situations so I knew I'd be short on sleep but I certainly thought I'd have more than I did. I woke several times to chills and at one point Darin moved on top of the covers because he said my body heat was burning him up. When the alarm went off I stood to find sharp pains shooting up my legs. My fever was still hanging on and my headache hadn't lessened one bit. Darin just looked at me and with a very calm voice he told me that it was ok if I couldn't do the rest of the ride. A part of me knew that I shouldn't continue. I knew I was sick and after being caught outside in the storm the Tuesday before the ride it wasn't surprising that the effects were finally catching up with me. The problem was that even though I knew I was physically sick, a part of me thought that maybe it was just nerves. Maybe my mind was just playing with me because I was physically exhausted from the day one ride and I was so scared that I wouldn't be able to do the additional miles and the HUGE hills (mountains!!!) that were talked about constantly during the first day's pit stops? Maybe I was subconsciously trying to give up? And so I moved on auto-pilot and put on my riding gear, all the while thinking to myself "you can't do it". But I just kept moving and before I knew it I was looking at Darin and I heard myself say, "I have to at least try." and he gave me a hug and said, "ok".

Heading out on Day Two

What we kept hearing on day one was how the first hill (mountain!!!) out on day two was killer and  all of the talk was dead on! Right around mile two we started to climb. At first I thought it was very doable but after each turn it just kept going up and up and up. I swear to God we were climbing that hill (mountain!!!) for close to 45 minutes! I don't think I had been so darn happy to see anything more that weekend then I was to see the top of that hill (mountain!!!)!

A crew member was kind enough to help me up the last few feet of hill (mountain!!!).

 After getting to the top (and only walking about 50 feet of the nearly 400 feet climb (Cat5 grade hill - mountain!!!) we stopped for about three minutes to take a drink and all I kept thinking is "just keep moving just keep moving". The rest of the ride was gorgeous, some more hills (actual hills) but nothing like the others we had rode until we reached the last leg of the ride. Before I tell you about the last 13 miles of the ride, I want to share with you an encounter I had at a pit stop on day two...........

 

We were refilling our water bottles at the second pit stop on day two, saying a quick hello to our family who were jumping from pit to pit, when a couple approached me. I had a sign on my helmet that said 2x survivor and this prompted them to talk to me. Very quietly and quite reserved the man asked me if he could ask me a personal question and I said "of course". He then put his arm around his wife and pulled her tight, looked me in my eyes and asked "How did you know it was back?". I looked at his wife and she looked down and back up slowly. I caught my breath and did my best to answer as candidly and honestly as I could. We talked for quite some time, tearing up at certain words, smiling and laughing at others. I realized in those moments how important it is for those of us who still have our voices to share our stories. To share the good, the bad and the hope for something more - the hope for a cure. At the end of our visit, she asked my name and she just beamed. She was CJ as well. She had opted to not have her breasts removed as well. She went through extended chemo as well. She was me and she was alive. I felt God's presence under that park shelter - amazing!

Two of the most precious people I have ever had the privilege of meeting.

Our ride continued and I felt like I was soaring. My leg muscles felt great and my energy level was as high as it could get. After stopping at the fourth pit stop for lunch, we started on the last leg of my six month journey. It seemed so unreal that I was at that point. After six months I had 13 miles left and it would be over. I think that God knew I was focusing too hard on the "end" so he gave me some MAJOR distractions and by distractions I mean hills (mountains!!!). Hill (mountain!!!) after hill (mountain!!!) after hill (MOUNTAIN!!!). Not only were we going up and down and up and down but it was through major city streets, interstate crossings, etc. Stop, start, stop, start. And then I called out "three miles" to Travis and I about darn near fell off my bike. I just looked at him and said "three miles" again. I could feel the tears starting to well up. We rounded a corner and I saw a group of crew members waving us on. One of the ladies shouted out "one more mile" and I lost it. The tears streamed down my face. I couldn't control it, it just over took me. As I saw the Ikea and Mall of America signs come into view, the impact of what I had just accomplished hit me hard. One year ago I couldn't get out of bed. One year ago I was told the chemo wasn't working as well as the doctors had hoped it would. One year ago I was told to make sure all of my affairs were in order. One year ago I had to have "that" talk with my husband, the talk about what I want for the kids' future, for his future should I not beat cancer the second time. And when I started to allow myself to believe I could possibly die, a power bigger than all of us pulled me up. One year ago I decided that I was no where near ready to leave this life and I started fighting and there was no way I was going to give up. And now this - this is what I did. This is because of my hard work and my dedication and my determination. I did it - I actually did it! 

Victory!!!! Our finale photo!

Travis and I pulled up to the stop-light across from the finish line seven hours and thirty minutes after we left Treasure Island Resort. There was clapping and cheering and banners waving and balloons flying and music playing and when I looked over to the tents I saw my family with their hands in the air - screaming above the crowd and waving so big. And as if I hadn't been crying hard enough the tears came even faster. I have no idea how I saw enough to even pull into the finish parking lot but I did. We were immediately greeted by crew members with nice cold towels and water. And before I knew it I was being hugged by Darin and Dawson and Emilie and Chantel and Travis. I just sobbed, a mixture of relief and pride pouring out of me. The idea that I was so close to not being present in this day was not lost on me. And just when I thought the finish line events couldn't get more emotional, a lady I had briefly met at a pre-ride event pulled through the finish line and called out to me. I stopped, she walked over and told me "I rode this ride for you, I rode it just for you.". I was speechless, could find absolutely no words. I just broke down, again, and hugged her tight. She explained that she had heard my story and she just needed me to know that she was there for me, that we are all in this fight together. I will never ever underestimate the good in people and will carry that woman's face in my heart for the rest of my life.

My favorite stranger; what a blessing!

After things settled down, the Nanny Nanny Boo Boos enjoyed a nice meal together before going our separate ways. About a mile out of Bloomington I felt my entire body let down and the pain came on like a brick wall had just fallen on top of me. I could barely keep my eyes open and yet my body hurt so badly I knew I couldn't even think about sleeping. As soon as we got home, I took some pain medication and crawled into bed. I woke up the next morning after sleeping for nearly thirteen hours. The pain was still there and I could tell my fever was back with a vengance so I made an appointment to see my doctor. After blood work and a few other tests I found out that my blood levels were bottomed out again and most likely had been for a few days. I had known this - felt it Saturday night in the hotel - but all the same it was no easier to hear it. I was set up for a booster to jump up my white blood cell count and cleared my schedule for the following 48 hours because I knew what was to come. After a lecture from my doctor about how incredibly thoughtless it was of me to continue the ride when I knew my body was down, I continued to be tortured by the booster and some IV antibiotics. The next two days were hell; we were back to the days when Darin had to carry me from the bed to the bathroom, I couldn't eat, I was in constant pain, our bedroom became our gathering spot - it was a place I had hoped I'd never have to be at again. It was happening though and we dealt with it the best we could. A week later I can say I am feeling nearly 100% again and am looking foward to getting the clear to get back on the roads. I have to be ready for next year's Breast Cancer Ride! 

I will forever remember every detail of August 6 & 7, 2011. I am a blessed woman. Forever grateful, forever humble.

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I'd like to close out my blog by saying many thank you's..............................................

First and foremost to my husband and children:  I can't even begin to express what your unconditional and crazy love and support has meant to me. I knew each and every day of the past six months I was not in this alone. I could feel you all with me during every mile. I could hear your whoops and go-get'ems and you can do it's each and every time my legs wanted to stop moving. I could feel the sadness in your hugs when I couldn't train because of my levels, when I was beating myself up even though I know I had no control. I could see the pride on your face when I went one more mile than the last time. I could see the fear in your eyes when I insisted on riding the 2nd day of the ride, even though I was sick. I could see the understanding on your face, knowing it was something I just had to do. I will forever carry you with me.

My precious family at a Day One pit stop.

For Dawson and Emilie - you are my sunshine, you are a light breeze that carries the smell of summers blooms over my face, you are the stars in the sky that I look to when I need guidance. You are my heart and my soul, forever.

Emi and Dawson helping me down a steep hill at a Day Two pit stop.

For Darin - you are my everything. My breath, my heart beat, my existence. You are my shelter and my open skies. You are my smile and my tears. I feel you in every single cell of my body. You are my forever and I love you, furiously.   

He just takes my breath away.....

To Travis, Chantel, Dylan and Berkley - I don't know how you could possibly understand the depth of my gratitude, OUR gratitude for what you did. Travis, having you beside me, behind me, in front of me during the ride - encouraging me and praising me, I just know I wouldn't have made it without you. It was so great to laugh with you and thank you for obliging me when I couldn't help but get emotional. You are an amazing person. Chantel, I just LOVE your willingness to jump into this with such passion. From the sign decorating to the roadside cheer stations - you made the ride much more memorable. Just when I thought I was going to give up I'd hear your whooping and see you and the "Nanny Nanny Boo Boos" cheering squad on the side of the road. Your energy was infectious and Lord how you made me laugh! And finally, Dylan and Berkley, you two are such troopers! Thank you so much for always cheering so hard for me and your dad. I know it was rough getting in and out of the car for two days straight, over and over again, but it sure meant so much to me, to all of us.

I LOVE this family - Chantel, Berkley, Dylan and Travis.

To my Amy - No one knows me the way that you do and I am beyond blessed to call you my best friend. You truly know what it means to be a friend, unconditionally. You are a beautiful person, Amy Virginia (sorry, couldn't help myself ;),  inside and out. I thank God daily that you are in my life and that our friendship has survived 28 years. The days that were the hardest I found myself always reaching out to you and you were the only one brave enough to tell me it might not be ok, but either way we were in it together. You have been a major piece of my foundation for more years than I can count. Thank you for being you. I love you!

To my mom and siblings - What can I say? I laid it all out there in this blog, good and bad. Thank you for understanding why it was so important for me to be real in this. I have such a deep love for each of you. It will never ever go away.

To Jane and Dean - From the first time I met you, you both have been so caring and so freely giving of yourselves. Thank you is so small compared to the words I wish were available to express how much gratitude we feel towards you and your friendship. The meals, the prayers, the silent awareness - you are very special people and we are so blessed to have you in our lives.

To The Breast Cancer Ride staff and volunteers - You are all AMAZING individuals who will have a special place in Heaven for your selfless giving and unrelenting work to spread awareness of breast cancer. I have said it before, I will say it again - this ride saved my life and has given me so much to be thankful for. I appreciate you all!

To all of the people that donated funds to this cause - YAY you!!! I knew I could count on you all to help me reach my fundraising goals and you didn't let me down! I truly meant it when I said that $10 does make a difference. Please, keep talking and researching and listening .......... you can change a person's life.

 

And finally to all of you who have read my posts, family, friends, strangers - I've been unpredictable as to post days, I've been long winded, short winded and everything in between. I've made stupid jokes and maybe even some funny ones. I've given you everything that I am, whether it hurt like hell or not, and I was received with such grace and respect that I can feel nothing but pure appreciation for each and every one of you. Through your feedback I found the strength and courage to write the next post with brutal honesty. I found myself, what I was before cancer, during cancer and most importantly I found who I am now - after cancer. I am CJ and I am a two time breast cancer survivor. I am CJ and I am a wife. I am CJ and I am a mother. I am CJ and I am a daughter, sister, niece, aunt, cousin, friend. I am CJ and I am a fighter. I am CJ and I am alive.

I won't let go of the love and support I have received from each and everyone of you. I won't let go of what this journey has taught me. I won't let go of one second of my life. I won't let go of any opportunity to give of myself to others. I won't let go of this fight - to end the heartache, the loss, the pain of cancer.