Help me reach my $4200 goal and cheer me on as I tackle another significant year of training and commitment to the cause.    

 

In early January, I was thinking back about how I got started with the PMC 5 years ago.    The PMC went from being a spectator event for me, to something personal.   I thought this year you might appreciate the story behind this.

 

I lived in Franklin Massachusetts for a number of years before I got involved with the PMC.   Each year I would walk the kids down the street to watch all of the PMC cyclists go by on that first Saturday in August.   Our house was only a block from the local school which served as one of the major rest stops for all of these trekers.    Here it was, 8:30 in the morning and there was loud music, familes meeting and greeting riders, hundreds of people, photographs being taken, cheering and ringing of bells and noise makers, and of course tons of refreshments and food.   It was a big party for all intensive purposes.   I thought what a crazy bunch of people.  I was so impressed that these people were going 200 miles in 2 days on a bicycle.   The distance seemed completely insane to me at the time.   A few of them were atheletes but most of them were people like you and I, which made their riding all the more impressive.   The kids and I would walk through the rest stop taking in all of the excitement.    Then we would head over to our favorite annual spot along the curb just where the riders were coming out of the rest stop.   As the riders would come along, my kids would reach out to high five them as they passed.   I remember thinking about what it would be like to do a ride like that.   I was focused on the ride and the physical challenge.   What I failed to see at that time was how personal all of this was for each one of those 5000 riders.     I failed to grasp the reality that this was about beating cancer to these people.

 

Then my oldest sister Mary got sick with breast cancer and it was not a pretty battle.    At that point, something happened inside.   All of the sudden cancer became real.   All of the sudden it meant that someone I loved could be taken by this disease.   Now all of those riders looked much different to me than they had before.   In the early days of my sister's battle, I would extend whatever emotional support I could to her and the family, but I had this frustrated feeling inside that I needed to do something more.   I couldnt just sit on the sidelines another year and not help in the fight of this disease on some level, in some way.    I recognized that the PMC cyclists probably felt the same way and had found a positive and constructive way to channel their energy and resources to raise awareness and raise money to make a difference for people like my sister.    I realized all of these people at that PMC rest stop on those early Saturday mornings in August were not partying, they were joining together and sharing their passion for a common fight against a considerable foe.   For all of them it was personal and it wasn't just about the miles.   It was about the goal of beating cancer.    The best thing I ever did was join their ranks.     

 

It was fantastic having Mary and her family see me cross the finish line that first year.    She didnt get to ever see me do it again.   Before she passed away however she asked me to continue riding; continue the fight, as long as I was able.    I dont know if the world will ever be cancer free, but I am going to keep riding that ridiculous bike if it means the difference in saving one more life.     Help me make this possible with your contribution to my goal.

 

Peddlin' Pete