On August 4th and 5th of last year I rode in my first Pan-Mass Challenge. For those that may not be familiar with it, the PMC is an annual bike-a-thon that raises money for cancer research.
I was first inspired to do this in 2011 when a co-worker approached me about contributing to her ride. A couple of months earlier, my father had passed away at the age of 87 after a brief battle with cancer. I felt a need to do something, and when I started learning more about the PMC, I thought it was a great way to raise money for a worthy cause. It was around this time I started thinking about the possibility of riding in the PMC myself. It would be a way that I could honor both my parents – my mother had passed away from cancer several years earlier – as well as recognize the struggle of those that are battling this terrible disease today.
So, in February of 2012 – without giving a whole lot of thought as to what would be involved – I signed up for the two-day, 160-mile, Wellesley-to-Provincetown route. I thought to myself: “how hard can that be? If my legs get tired, I can just start coasting.” Up until this point, I had never been a particularly avid bike rider. In March I bought a bicycle and began a training regimen. I soon was doing 20 – 30 mile training rides, but was becoming increasingly concerned about what I had committed myself to. Could I really do two, back-to-back 80 mile rides? And what about the fundraising? Asking people to make charitable donations was outside my comfort zone.
As the spring turned into summer, my training was taking me on 50-70 mile rides. I was becoming more confident that I might be able to do at least one 80-mile leg of the PMC, but I still had serious doubts about riding 160 miles over two days.
By the end of July, I had done all the training that time would allow, and I began the final preparations for the PMC. In the few days leading up to the event, I had my bike tuned up, and I outfitted it for the 160 mile ride, including stowing a rain jacket for the thunderstorms that had been predicted.
August 4 – and the day had arrived! I had gone to bed just before midnight and had been so full of excitement that I was worried I would not be able to fall asleep. So when I awoke to the alarm at 4:00 AM I was thrilled to realize that I had in fact slept and that I would not have to do the 80 miles on no sleep.
I arrived at Babson College in Wellesley at 6:00 AM, and after making a final check of my bike I proceeded to the starting area. I took my position and was surrounded by over 2,000 other riders. There was an opening ceremony going on at the front of the starting gate. However, I was too taken in by the mounting excitement and the buzz of all the other riders that I did not really pay much attention to the speeches. As I waited there, taking in the sights and sounds, one thing I noticed was that many of the cyclists had photos attached on the backs of their riding jerseys. At first they just looked like ordinary family photos (birthdays, holidays, vacations, etc.), and I was curious why the riders were wearing them on their jerseys. Upon closer look I began to realize that in each of these pictures there was a person who appeared to be sick. Apparently these were all photographs of the cyclists’ loved ones who had cancer. As I absorbed these images – these family scenes, with all of them touched by cancer – I thought of my own mother and father. I conjured up images of my own family photos of them. I remembered their own battles with cancer and how it affected them and me and my sister and other loved ones. I was suddenly overcome by emotion. I knew that each one of these 2,000+ riders had stories to tell of how cancer has affected their lives. I was suddenly taken by the weight of this awful disease – one that has had its mark on so many people. But in that same moment I was heartened by the sight of thousands of people who were trying to do something about it. Earlier in the morning I had seen a rider with a jersey that said “this bike beats cancer”. When I first had seen it, I had dismissed it as self-aggrandizement. But now, in this moment at the starting line, I was starting to believe it.
At 7:00 AM an official at the front of the starting area gave us the signal to go. However, due to the large number of riders crammed into a relatively small area, we started off walking our bikes rather than pedaling. After about 10 minutes or so of walking, the crowd of cyclists had thinned out enough to allow those of us in the middle of the pack to actually start pedaling. At approximately 7:15 I was riding my bike at a sufficient speed so that I was no longer wobbling. As I began to put some distance between me and the starting line, the sounds from the PA system were fading behind me. The last song I could hear playing over the system was Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days”.
After another 30 minutes or so I was still full of nervous energy. It was exciting to finally be in the event I had been training for and worrying about for the last six months. And riding in the middle of 2,000 other riders certainly added to the excitement! One thing that was concerning me at this point was my speed - I noticed that I was riding quite a bit faster than my training speed. I attributed this to the adrenaline rush I was experiencing as a result of finally riding in the PMC. I felt I needed to pace myself for fear that if I kept riding at this speed I would not be able to finish the ride.
I couldn’t go far without being reminded of what the PMC was all about. One of the hundreds of cancer survivors riding in the event was a woman named Kathy who I chatted with during this first leg of the ride. I guessed her age to be in the late-40’s. She said she had had breast cancer and was treated for it at the Dana Farber in Boston. She had a full range of treatments including surgery, and she was eventually found to be cancer free. She said she was so full of gratitude for the doctors at Dana Farber that she asked one of them how she could ever repay them. The doctor’s response was that she might consider riding in the Pan Mass Challenge. When she heard this suggestion she thought it was an impossible idea – especially after her illness. Nevertheless, the next year she registered for the ride and completed it. That was eight years ago and she has completed the PMC ride every year since then! I was really humbled by her determination and spirit. And it was inspirational - Kathy was one of the many reminders for me that the money raised for this event is going to a good cause and the research and treatment is working – she is living proof of that!
Before I knew it, it was 8:30 and I was in Wrentham approaching the first water stop. After a brief rest and a quick bite to eat, I refilled my water bottles and got back on my bike to continue the ride.
There were some celebrities riding in the PMC. Both of the US Senators from Massachusetts were doing the first day course, riding from Sturbridge to Bourne. The only celebrity I encountered riding along my route was Channel 5 news anchor, Ed Harding. I won’t say who passed who.
By 35 miles into the ride the pack of riders had spread out considerably. However, in the town of Rehoboth the field of riders became crowded once again. Rehoboth is the confluence of the two major PMC routes: the Wellesley-to-Bourne and the Sturbridge-to-Bourne routes. I and others who started from Wellesley were heading south down a residential street. As we approached a main drag, I could see a very large number of cyclists on that street heading east. These were riders from the 3,000-strong contingent that had left from Sturbridge. As I turned left onto this main street, I merged with this much larger pack, and we began an ascent up a somewhat challenging hill. Being with this big group gave me a boost of enthusiasm that I needed about then. To add to the drama, I suddenly started hearing the sounds of a bagpipe. At the top of the hill there was a lone piper. It was a sad sound and reminded me of the bagpiper we had at my father's funeral a year earlier. The sound was both sorrowful and beautiful and provided inspiration as I made my way up the hill.
At about 10:30 I arrived at the lunch stop at the Rehoboth-Dighton High School, which was approximately the 45-mile mark of the ride. By now I was starting to feel the heat and humidity. The PMC is a very well-organized and managed event, and the lunch stop at R-D High School was just one manifestation of this. The layout was enormous – as it would have to be to accommodate over 5,000 riders. There was a huge, circus-like tent that had dozens of tables with foods of all sorts – hot food, cold food, fruits, snacks, and drinks (and plenty of desserts!) There were a number of stations where the riders could refill their water bottles with water or Gatorade. There was a stage and a sound system for event organizers to make announcements. There were hundreds of volunteers providing support: serving food, transporting materials, handling trash, re-filling water tanks, directing bike and pedestrian traffic, answering questions, fixing bicycles, etc. And there was a sea of bicycles – several thousand of them – some strewn across the sports fields and others parked neatly in bicycle racks.
I was rather hungry by now, and I filled my plate with generous portions of food. I made my way to a shaded grassy area at the edge of one of the sports fields where many riders were resting. I stretched out on the grass, ate my food and rested. After about 20-30 minutes I felt refreshed and refueled, and I decided it was time to get back on my bike and resume riding.
Although I felt refreshed initially after the lunch break, it did not take long once I was back on the road to start feeling the heat of the day. By noon I was roughly 50 miles into the ride - more than half way to Bourne. I estimated the temperature to be in the mid-90’s with high humidity. However, one did not have to go too far before encountering groups of PMC supporters along the side of the road, handing off ice-cold bottles of water to the riders.
One unforgettable sight that I saw was around mid-afternoon – at approximately 65 miles into the ride. There was a long stretch of road where there was little shade. I was starting to be self-absorbed with my own discomfort when all of a sudden on my left a biker passed me at a very fast clip. I had to do a double-take, because to my astonishment his right arm and his right leg were missing! I couldn’t believe it and could not begin to imagine what a challenge it must have been for him to do this event with such a handicap. This was one of the many moments that made the ride a humbling experience for me.
Another emotional time was as I was approaching the Lakeville waterstop. Along the side of the road was a series of photographs of children with cancer. These particular children are the PMC “Pedal Partners”; young oncology patients at the Dana Farber that are matched-up with teams of PMC riders. These children are receiving state-of-the-art care at the Dana Farber – thanks in part to the funds raised by the PMC. The Pedal Partner program allows riders to get to know young Dana Farber patients, and at the same time provides the children a distraction from their treatments and the opportunity to make new friends.
The pictures of these children along the side of the road were very large – each one about four feet high. There were dozens of them – perhaps 100 in all – spaced about 15 feet apart, and stretching along the side of the road for over a quarter of a mile. And because these photos were larger-than-life headshots, the riders along this piece of road could get a good look at the faces of these kids. As I peddled along this stretch for a minute or two I took in all of these young faces of cancer patients. Many of these children were bald – conveying the personal struggles they are surely enduring. As I took-in each successive image my heart sank deeper. The sight of so many kids with cancer was awful, but my sadness was somewhat tempered by a look of courage and optimism on many of their faces. And it was heartening knowing that these very kids are benefiting from the advances being made in fighting this disease. This stretch of the ride proved to be very emotional, and by the time I completed it and rolled into the waterstop, I had tears in my eyes and felt drained.
After Lakeville there was another 26 miles to get to the Day 1 finish line. I completed those miles without incident, and at 3:00 I pedaled into the Mass Maritime Academy in Bourne, finishing the first day of the ride. After 83 miles I was hot, tired and sore, but overall did not feel too bad. I was looking forward to a long shower and a big meal and getting to bed early. I had to get up early on Sunday to do Day 2 of the ride.
On Sunday morning I was back in Bourne shortly after 6:00 to start the second leg of the ride, which would take me the length of Cape Cod to the Provincetown finish line. The second day had a much different feel to it than the first day. On Day 1 there was a specific start time, with all the starters departing at the same time, so from the start there was a large number of cyclists riding together. In contrast, on Day 2 riders were given a 90-minute window of time to depart Bourne. Riders were advised to leave the Mass Maritime Academy no earlier than 5:00 AM (so cyclists wouldn’t be riding in the dark) but no later than 6:30 (at which time town officials would close the Bourne Bridge to bicycle traffic.) Given this drawn out start-time – coupled with the fact that I was leaving towards the end of the recommended timeframe – there was not the massive crowd of cyclists as there was the day before. For most of the day on Sunday, I was riding with small groups of other riders, and for some stretches I was riding alone. Without the company of thousands of riders, the Sunday ride was mostly one of solitude and contemplation. High temperatures were not as much of a factor on Sunday as was the case the day before. In fact for about the first half of the day it was cool and raining.
The Brewster water stop was at mile 39, which was about the half-way mark of the Sunday ride. It was not a full-fledged lunch stop, but it did have snacks like energy bars, peanut butter on celery, cookies, etc. So, I had a bite to eat, re-filled my water bottles and got back on my bike to continue my trek to P-Town.
At about mile 55 I was in Wellfleet. By now I was getting fatigued and minor aches and pains were starting to set in. Once in Wellfleet the route ascended to an elevation of about 125 feet to a plateau. By now I was very tired. The two days of riding was having its effect on my body. However there was also an emotional toll that I had not anticipated. All at once, bubbling to the surface were memories of everything that led me to this point: the months of training; the two days of riding; the PMC supporters cheering us riders on; and my encounters with cancer survivors that I had met along the way. All of these thoughts surfaced at once. On top of this, there was the growing realization that the finish line was now within reach; and from this realization came a sense of relief and elation. At this moment I looked to my right and saw the National Seashore coming into view. The panorama of dunes, sand grass, the Atlantic Ocean and the crashing surf was breathtaking. It was this sublime wilderness - viewed from just about this very spot - that Henry David Thoreau wrote about while exploring Cape Cod in the 1850's. I was already in a highly charged state moments before all this came into view, and then this sight pushed me over the top. I was suddenly flooded with memories from years past and summers on Cape Cod with my parents - both of whom now taken by cancer. At the same time I was witnessing the awesomeness of creation, still unfolding, and I felt I was in God’s presence. It was a cathartic experience and before long my eyes were tearing up. I continued along in this state for a few miles as I soaked in the beautiful sight. And as I neared the end of the Wellfleet route and its formidable terrain, I was physically and emotionally exhausted.
The final leg of the ride took me through Truro and then to Provincetown. I finally pedaled across the finish line at the Provincetown Inn shortly after 1:00 PM. I had reached my goal and fulfilled what I felt was a promise to all those who supported my ride. The Pan-Mass Challenge was truly an amazing experience for me. It was enriching, humbling and inspirational. I felt blessed that I was able to participate in this event and I am extremely grateful for so much that I don’t know where to begin. But I will start by expressing thanks for all those who supported me and all those who sponsored my ride. I was awe struck by the many cases of extravagant generosity! I was humbled and surprised by the outpouring of responses to my fund-raising efforts – including some people that I had not been in touch with for years – including some high school classmates that I have not talked to in almost four decades! In addition to the financial support, I deeply appreciate all of the well-wishes and prayers. I am thankful for the thousands of PMC supporters that lined the route – providing motivation to the cyclists as they rode by – they yelled, cheered, played music, blew horns, rang cow bells – generally making the riders feel like heroes. I can’t say enough how motivating it was to be cheered on like this - - - especially as each day wore on and the mileage started to accumulate. I am also grateful for the thousands of PMC volunteers that supported the two-day event: operating the water/food stops; putting up signs; patrolling the route and providing road side assistance; providing medical assistance; directing traffic, giving directions, etc. I also want to express gratitude for my former co-worker, Alison Mancusi, who herself is a PMC rider. She championed the PMC cause and in doing so set me down this path. I am thankful for the staff at Bicycle Alley in Worcester, especially Neil Medin, who provided excellent customer service and helped me prepare for this event. I am very thankful for my wife, Tina, who was hugely supportive of me ever since I first broached the idea to her. She supported the idea from the very beginning and was a source of unwavering encouragement throughout the six months of training. She was tolerant of my crazy training schedule; rescued me when I had a flat tire during one of my long training rides; woke up early to shuttle me around the weekend of the event and overall was a pillar of support. Finally, I am thankful for the cancer survivors that I met along the way. They were truly inspirational and it made me appreciate the excellent work of the Dana Farber and others dedicated to putting an end to this disease.
In Memory
Harold J. Muir (January 21, 1924 – June 6, 2011)
Shirley Blessington Muir (October 16, 1926 – September 19, 1995)
“…as one stands on the shore looking out, he is able to realize that creation is still going on - the creative forces are as great and as active today as they have ever been, and tomorrow's morning will be as heroic as any in the world” Henry Beston, The Outermost House: A Year of Life on the Great Beach of Cape Cod
