I believe that horse-riding is to you what road cycling was to me for several years.
For me, there’s nothing more sensual and liberating than to gear up early in the morning, hop on a good road bike—destination unknown—you and nature alone, wind in your face, rolling hills upon rolling hills; miles and miles of ocean. It’s thrilling: you see everything in a new way and every little hill becomes a personal challenge. I joined the San Diego Team-In-Training the organizational arm of Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of America. Members solicit funds to help find a cure for blood-related cancers. First day of practice for the Solvang Century ride, I flew off my bike. I thought of quitting. I talked to my coach. ‘Two more falls to go, May. And then you’re a certified cyclist.’ So, for four months, I threw my bike in the trunk on Saturday mornings, and set out with the TEAM on remorseless routes in preparation for the Solvang Century ride. Some Friday nights I lay awake for hours agonizing over the prospect of careening down Torrey Pines or ‘Champagne’ at 30mph. And then there were the uphill battles to fight. On the last day of practice, four months later, I climbed ‘the inside of Torrey Pines’—a very steep hill—three times. I can still hear Coach Keith’s voice as if it was only yesterday: ‘Amazing May!’ Not many moments in my life have matched that one. Nor could any moment distil more vividly what I had come to TNT to find: the nobility of having a social conscience.
Then came Event Day, March 11, 2006. I befriended the Heartbreak Hill, scaled the Wall, careened down the ‘technical downhill’ and bounded across the finish line with the rest of the San Diego TNT in tow. A most inclement weather, nevertheless.
Perhaps, more important than the physical challenges, is knowing I raised some money for continuing leukemia research for a cure. That I’ve made a difference.
That was fun! Type #2 fun…because I did it again and again and again…Tour de Tucson; Maui; Honolulu…etc etc…
I believe that horse-riding is to you what road cycling was to me for several years.
For me, there’s nothing more sensual and liberating than to gear up early in the morning, hop on a good road bike—destination unknown—you and nature alone, wind in your face, rolling hills upon rolling hills; miles and miles of ocean. It’s thrilling: you see everything in a new way and every little hill becomes a personal challenge. I joined the San Diego Team-In-Training the organizational arm of Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of America. Members solicit funds to help find a cure for blood-related cancers. First day of practice for the Solvang Century ride, I flew off my bike. I thought of quitting. I talked to my coach. ‘Two more falls to go, May. And then you’re a certified cyclist.’ So, for four months, I threw my bike in the trunk on Saturday mornings, and set out with the TEAM on remorseless routes in preparation for the Solvang Century ride. Some Friday nights I lay awake for hours agonizing over the prospect of careening down Torrey Pines or ‘Champagne’ at 30mph. And then there were the uphill battles to fight. On the last day of practice, four months later, I climbed ‘the inside of Torrey Pines’—a very steep hill—three times. I can still hear Coach Keith’s voice as if it was only yesterday: ‘Amazing May!’ Not many moments in my life have matched that one. Nor could any moment distil more vividly what I had come to TNT to find: the nobility of having a social conscience.
Then came Event Day, March 11, 2006. I befriended the Heartbreak Hill, scaled the Wall, careened down the ‘technical downhill’ and bounded across the finish line with the rest of the San Diego TNT in tow. A most inclement weather, nevertheless.
Perhaps, more important than the physical challenges, is knowing I raised some money for continuing leukemia research for a cure. That I’ve made a difference.
That was fun! Type #2 fun…because I did it again and again and again…Tour de Tucson; Maui; Honolulu…etc etc…
The struggle and the thrill. A total experience! And for a good cause, to boot. No wonder you cherish these memories, May!