Remember When...

Yes, me & my first glacier!

On June 4, 2012, I arrived home after an amazing cruise experience. I visited Alaska for the first time, bringing me to a total of like 46 states visited. Or maybe more. I lost count. The group I traveled with was one I have come to know over the past few years and we did what we do best... we got together and we made memories. I caught up with friends I've been sailing with for years. And I met some new folks in the group. Even met some Alaskans and got to see a bit of their world from a local's perspective. These cruises are more like reunions for me as it's often the only time I get to see my cruise friends and, let me tell you, they're one great group of people to have in your life.

Before I even unpacked (and you know it takes me two weeks to unpack and do all that laundry) I realized I had no future travel plans on my calendar. That's not like me at all and I had to do something about it. So I started to look at what my next adventure would be. During that week, I decided I wanted to do something life changing. Unique. Ballsy. My first thought was that I could finally attend Burning Man. I had tickets once but I had to sell them when I accepted a job offer in Nevada and moved out-of-state just weeks before the event. I've always heard it was the experience of a lifetime. Community. Passion. Love. Commitment. Art. Brother (and Sister) Hood.

But timing's everything, isn't it?



During the week I was trying to pin a date to my travel calendar, I saw that many were finishing up their own experience of a lifetime. The week of June 3-9, 2012 was the week cyclists from around the world set off from San Francisco and trekked along the length of California for AIDS/LifeCycle. I ran across news articles and Facebook posts and emails from friends to whom I'd donated. It started to sink in...

You see, I've known about the AIDS Ride and AIDS/LifeCycle for years... almost decades. My work in the field of HIV & AIDS on the west coast introduced me to the AIDS Ride in the mid-90's. It was always inspiring. Something I wanted to do. But, y'know, next year. I'm not ready. Cardio isn't my thing. I could never cycle 545 miles. The cost. The time. The commitment.



The fear of failing.

Somehow last year, during all this thought of vacations and travel, some switch inside of me flipped. And on June 9, I registered for the 2013 ride. I didn't think about it much. Might have even thought, "What the hell, it's only a small registration fee... even if I don't do it I'm not really out much money." Actually, that's exactly what I thought. But I knew I would at least try. Do you remember when I went out and paid my first visit to a bike store? The smirks I got from the staff when I told them I hadn't been on a bicycle in years and had just signed up for a seven day ride? My complete lack of knowledge on cycling, gear, training, or what I'd just gotten myself into?

Yeah. We all start somewhere. To quote my friend Jeremy, "Starting over starts now." With every change we make. Every mountain we climb. Every challenge we face. For me, this was an unknown that I wasn't sure if I'd ever know. But I threw some money out there and bought my first jersey and bib set along with a helmet. I had no idea. The sales staff could have told me this was the only thing that would get me 500 miles and I would have said, "Here's my credit card." And that spandex... wow, I was so embarrassed to take a pic in them that I cropped my head out of the photo.
After buying some gear, I realized I would have to get on a bike. Do you recall the day I took my first "training" ride? Pulling my old mountain bike off a hook in garage and trying to learn how to ride a bike again? The tires were dry-rotted. I had no idea what the condition of the tubes inside the tires were. I dusted it off but barely ventured outside of walking distance from my house for fear I'd get stuck with a flat I didn't know how to change or go to far and not find my way back.

Slowly, over time, I acquired a few more shorts & jerseys. A saddle bag and some clipless pedals. I built up some endurance on that old Gary Fisher. So much so that my rides were getting far too long to take that 40 pound beast up another hill. I went bike shopping. Found a CAAD-y but hated the color. Searched and searched and searched until I found the ride that would not only be "mine" - but, as I've come to learn, would almost become a part of me. You may not know this but we cyclists have a relationship with our bikes. It's almost like they're an appendage... a part of us. The saddle conforms to our shape. We have the neck & seat post adjusted especially for our bodies. We spend time... hours... each week touching nothing but that handlebar tap, grabbing the brakes or tapping those shifters.

So, yeah, do you remember when I first started out? I do. Kind of. But it's a distant memory. These past few weeks, I've come to realize so much. Y'know, when I set out for a 30 mile ride a few months ago, if I wore out at 20 miles or if the headwinds were too strong, I'd just turn around and go home. If I didn't feel like riding that day, I'd just pour another cup of coffee and turn on some bad TV. Do you remember the days when I got excited when my training passed 100 miles? Or when I was ecstatic that I'd raised $500? My journey toward completing 545 miles in my training to match the mileage I'd have to hit in just seven days?

I gotta laugh a little when I think of that me back then. Five hundred forty five miles? Still a stretch. A huge challenge. But, when I first started, I was lucky to get 80 miles a month. Did you know that in March I completed over 400 miles? And that it's been almost two months since I set out on a ride with a mileage goal and turned around before I completed it? And I know you have no idea that when I finish a 50 mile ride, I want to keep going for another twenty.

But I do.

Looking at myself now compared to where I was on June 9, 2012, I realize I am a better man. AIDS/LifeCycle has helped me achieve that. Seven mile rides have turned into seventy. Five hundred dollar milestones have turned into $10,000. It's an uphill climb (often literally) but I'm getting there. Little by little. That ideal of Burning Man - community, passion, love, commitment, art, brother (and sister) hood...

Yeah, I've got that.

Just like I've got this.

I've become a kinder man. I've become more giving. I've worked hard for those who may be less fortunate who will never be able to thank me in person. I've shed the fear of stigma around my HIV status and once again been an out & proud man with AIDS. I've relived negative memories I'd buried for years and found the light in my past. I've become stronger. Found a new passion. Committed to the impossible. And come to know many brothers & sisters on the journey.

In less than nine weeks, I set off from San Francisco and make my way to Los Angeles. Honestly, if it happened tomorrow, I know I could do it. Yeah... I still have a few old habits left... and a few more goals to accomplish. And there's definitely one or two I'll need you to help me get.... but I know I'll get there with you.

You see, I can finally stand the man in the mirror I see. 'Cuz I ain't as good as I'm gonna get.

But there's no doubt that this journey with AIDS/LifeCycle has made me better than I used to be. And I'm joined by you on that journey. Whether you're an ALC staffer. A roadie. A teammate. A fellow cyclist. A sponsor. Or just someone who says, you got this. You've all helped to uncover the diamond under all this dust.

We can all be better. We just have to take the first step. Or the first pedal. We may not know where it leads us. But we're not going to get anywhere if we don't try.

J-