I had not been in Los Angeles long when a friend mentioned to me in passing his interest in AIDS/LifeCycle, a charity bike ride. It was an idea that captured my imagination.
AIDS/LifeCycle is a fully supported, seven-day bike ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles to raise money for life-saving services and awareness in the fight against HIV/AIDS. Every year, this landmark ride through beautiful California, delivers a life-changing experience for thousands of participants from all backgrounds and fitness levels united by a common desire to do something heroic.
I now work for this organization as a Cyclist Representative, having completed the ride twice, assisting cyclists in their fundraising and training. I've learned a lot from my involvement.
When I signed up for this event, I had not travelled any considerable distance on a bike, but, like many of us I'm sure, I carry inside of me a strong affection for the bicycle. Perhaps the common fondness we hold for this machine is lodged in our subconscious from that thrilling moment when we first find our balance on two wheels?
Doesn't just getting on a bike engender within you a childlike sense of enthusiasm? A bike promises, and delivers, the ability for us to venture out and explore our world. As a kid, it gave me a feeling independence and freedom as I travelled around the bush clad hills of Titirangi, New Zealand.
This ride was a different proposition and I was excited for the scale of the ride I had committed to.
Shortly after my friend and I signed up for AIDS/LifeCycle, he dropped out. I was left on this trek all alone, I thought. I was mistaken.
I didn't know many people in a new city, knew nothing about fundraising but soon discovered that I was connected to a community that was there to support me on every mile along the way of this journey.
Soon I was riding around the hills in Los Angeles on organized training rides, back to being a kid on two wheels. I was expanding my world all over again.
I had a real confidence embarking on these small tours, knowing that if anything went wrong, there would be a helpful soul or three that would stop and help with any contingency that arose. I was never alone.
On the ride itself I was wide-eyed by how well supported the event was. Rest stops peppered the route offering ample refreshments and respite. There was medical attention, massage, mountains of fine food as well as entertainment.
Roadies held the event together and worked like a well-oiled machine, schlepping with a smile the whole portable city tirelessly from town to town. All I had to do was pedal through California and bare witness to its wonderful scenery.
All that shimmering coastline, all of that wide azure sky, all those majestic rolling hills and all that radiant sunshine. California really does have it all.
Beautiful landscapes & a great cause. Win, win.
There were long, seemingly endless stretches of road to ride, but it is this very challenge, all those 545 miles that give participants in AIDS/LifeCycle a taste of the heroic. They keep their wheels turning for this most worthy cause.
The second time I did the ride was with a dear friend, my roommate at the time. His spirit of generosity and thirst for adventure drew him to participate.
The bike he rode was a tad heavy and not the most aerodynamic to say the least. We moved slowly and surely through the first couple of days. He had to stop on one occasion as his worn legs shook with pain and fatigue, but he got back on his solid bike and kept on moving forward.
On the third day, I got a puncture. I told him to ride on and that I would catch up with him. When I got back on the road, I unknowingly passed him by. I reconnected with him a short time later at a rest stop to discover he had already he befriended a lady, an accomplished athlete who chose to accompany him on his homely hybrid. She rode with him for every single mile from that point on. There is always someone to ride with you. No one gets left behind. He crossed the finish line with a sense of accomplishment, a new level of physical and mental toughness and a whole new group of friends. He is doing the ride again this year.
A strong community is part of the rides culture and it was apparent on the most recent AIDS/LifeCycle Kickoff Ride. I met a new participant, an adorable 60-year-old lady who was a complete beginner on a bike. Her hands shook a little with nervous energy. I asked two more experienced cyclists to keep an eye on her. It appeared she did not understand how to operate her gears and as the ride began, was struggling to get moving, stopping and starting on the smallest of inclines. She continued to stutter for a while, doing battle with what, to her, was new contraption. Beside her and around her the more experienced women waited patiently. It was a touching vignette of matriarchal support. A lady stayed with her throughout the entire ride and coached her in using gears.
I'm looking forward to supporting the cyclists this year, making sure they have all they need to train and fundraise successfully. I'm continually inspired by their spirit and commitment as I hear what brought them to the ride.
This year marks the 15th Anniversary of AIDS/LifeCycle. The ride is filling up fast. I would encourage you all to fulfill your desire to connect with a caring community and to quench your thirst for adventure. Challenge yourself, jump on your bike and ride 545 miles down this most golden of states and closer to a future free from HIV and AIDS.
Heros heading home.