Riding for Roses

It is hard not to make analogies between my life and the Tour de France. This is the third stage of the Tour de France and, naturally, our third day watching it. Some of the attendees, volunteers, and sponsors at Tour Watch 2005 have already burned out. We’re amateurs—nobody has withdrawn from the Tour de France. The thing to remember at this event, like the Tour de France, is that the action comes in pieces every day and you have to race hard every day, but the big action comes later. You have to survive through the first week to race in the mountains and eventually Paris.

I am trying to remember that as I spend hours in the sun each day and donations trickle in at a seeming snail’s pace. I got $140 the first day, $125 the second, and $50 today. I was hoping to average closer to $200 per day and had dreams of $250.

Momentum builds though.

The early days don’t have many serious climbs. The sprinters are out in force, but they never win the Tour. Lance is trying to stay near, but not at, the front of the peloton. That keeps him near the top of the standings. Sprinters gain time on him at every sprint on the course, and every finish. Lance is in position to make the big push in the mountains and the time trials to get and maintain his lead against the real contenders.

Every day at the Tour Watch, I get a chance to talk with many interesting people. Each time I write about the Tour Watch, I will try to remember a few of the highlights.

Yesterday, I spoke with an avid former cyclist who is no longer riding due to a neck injury. He doesn’t have health insurance or much spare money, but he followed me to my car to give me some cash to contribute to the LAF and his best wishes for Spencer.

One man talked with me all about Spencer for several minutes before he told me about his mother’s recent breast cancer diagnosis. I did my best to get him hooked up with some of the cancer survivor and caregiver support information I have, both from the LAF and from other organizations.

Today, I spoke with a nurse who works at Children’s Hospital of Austin, where we have had Spencer on the Green Unit (the cancer unit) and Jacob on the Blue Unit (the respiratory unit). She used to work on the Green Unit and now works in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. So far, we have managed to avoid the PICU and hope to continue doing so. I thanked her for the work she does. It is a hard job and the staff at CHOA have been wonderful to us since we were first there. They treat kids with problems like Spencer’s or Jacob’s every day, and yet they give us the individual attention that makes the experience much easier.

Stephen was a major high point of the day. He rode up from Congress Avenue in Austin today where the road was closed. He had his wife take a photo of him stopped in the middle of the Congress Avenue bridge, with the Texas Capitol far in the background. We chatted several times, with interruptions for other visitors to the table and lunch. He rides a beautiful recumbent three tricycle and recommends it highly, especially for anyone who wants to ride, but has balance or health issues that make it challenging.

One woman I encountered today has a son-in-law who is a colon cancer survivor and she shared with me the horrible experience they went through as they discovered he was allergic to one of the chemotherapy medicines.

I spoke with a gentleman from Bolingbrook, IL, who was down visiting Austin for the weekend. He was touched by Spencer’s story and said he would have a look at this web site as soon as he could and donate to support cancer survivors and Spencer’s personal Ride for the Roses.

I am touched by these and many others. People willing to listen to me share my story and people willing to share their own story. If you have a story, please share it here in the comments or Share your story with the LAF and have it published on their web site. See you in Paris!