Bonus!!!

As much as I'd like this AIDS/LifeCycle journey to be altruistic, I have to admit there are some unexpected benefits that go beyond the money raised for vital HIV/AIDS services.











And I'm going to be totally candid. One of the greatest benefits is the butt.

Seriously. I'm a butt & leg guy. Always have been. Boobs? Awesome! Six packs? Amazing! A gorgeous smile? My downfall. But muscular legs & butt? OMG, I'm in heaven!




So, yeah, the ride tested our limits. Helped us realize what we thought impossible. Connected us to a community of heroes. But it also offered a lot of distraction in the way of muscular legs & bubble butts. It's a side effect of what we do. Just think about my training for ALC - hundreds of thousands of rotations on the pedals. Each one working the gluteus maximus to maximus status. And forming the quadriceps to an exceptionally brilliant form. And that, my friends, makes for some seriously sweet eye candy.


Each day as I pull my jeans over my new thighs & buttocks, I'm reminded of the personal benefits I get from the ride. And they're more than external. My lung capacity has also increased. My resting heart rate and blood pressure has decreased. My body eliminates toxins more effectively than when I wasn't working out. My mind - oh my mind - I can't even describe the high one gets from the endorphins & sense of accomplishment achieved after a 50-mile ride.

And then there's the science of it all (sorry folks, I'm a bit of a science & numbers geek). By the age of 30, most men start losing muscle mass instead of gaining it. By 40, our bone density begins to diminish. Yes, we're aging but that doesn't mean we can't counterbalance nature by putting in some effort. I'll be the first to admit it's not easy. Getting on that bike 3-4 times a week is tough. Pulling on those resistance bands a few hours each month is far from exciting. And stretching it all out afterwards - well, I could write a whole entry on the pain of foam rolling. But, in the end, it's all worth it. It's mostly mind over matter. But I also somehow get through it all by recognizing those moments where I think, "Gee, the thighs of my jeans are damn tight." Or, "My bum seems to be getting really muscular." Yes, we pay a price - like the hardcore tan lines we acquire. But that is a small price to pay for the health benefits we get along the way.

Yes, we AIDS/LifeCycle riders are participating in the ride, and raising monies, to save lives. But one of the things we often forget is that in doing this, we're also extending our own lives. Most of the effects we don't see - the heart rate, blood pressure or bone density. And some we do see - like the weight loss, strength improvement or increased endurance. Then there are the the benefits we see when we slide into that spandex. The meaty thighs. The shapely butt. The trimmer waist. And if sometimes that's what it takes to keep us motivated to save the world, then so be it.






And, if all else fails, we can always focus on the crotch shots in lycra we see for the week on the ride (but that's a whole other blog entry!).






Okay... I think every single one of us who rides ALC can say we want to be selfless in supporting the cause. But it's impossible. Because through our dedication to the event, we get an added bonus. We raise the bar for our own healthcare. We acquire physical benefits - seen & unseen - that we weren't even thinking about. We do good for others while at the same time doing good for ourselves. And that, my friends, is a damn fine picture to paint.

(I still have the skinniest legs in this photo... argh!)

Here We Go... Again!

And so it begins.

Y'all knew this was coming. I knew this was coming. But even after completing my ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles just a couple months ago, I can't believe I'm planning on doing it again.

You followed my journey for an entire year and watched me cross the finish line after 545 miles. You offered words of support for my ride, gave me a hug at the start, or bought a jersey for me to wear. You read my story in Instinct Magazine. You dealt with my constant fundraising requests on Facebook or in your inbox. You donated to the cause and we raised over $14,000 to help support HIV/AIDS programs at the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and the LA Gay & Lesbian Center. I did it. And I did it with your help. So why am I riding again?

You know, after blogging for an entire year about the reasons I ride you would think that I would have run out of things to write about. That all the reasons would have been exhausted. But nothing could be further from the truth. You see, with over 22 years of HIV work & activism under my belt, I have more reasons than I care to count. And, since our work isn't done, more reasons present themselves more often than I like. In fact, one of those presented itself just a couple weeks ago when another friend passed away.

But I don't want to kick off this year in a melancholy way. I want to start off with one of the more cheerful reason I'll be riding again... one of the 2,800 reasons that bring a smile to my face when I think of one of them. Like Kerry, my cyclist rep last year - and again this year. I'll forever feel blessed that I had that moment with her and Mel at the starting line a few months ago. Then there's my friend Brendan who I hardly saw this year since he was a Roadie - but next year he's going to ride which means I'll see him on the road a lot more. There's Marni who was in the caboose and who (in some ways, thankfully) I didn't see too much of in June. I hear Team Swiss will be riding again - and who can pass up a chance to ride with them?!?! Andy who carried a sweater for me one day. And Suzi who was the Peep Sweep. Ahhh, then there's my Shelley who I was lucky enough to see a few times during the week - but not nearly enough. And one of the many superheroes I came to know... Tara, another Vegas peep. Jim - former staffer and now a rider in 2014. Hell, ALL the amazing staff... like Eric & Cailin & Megan and of course Greg. New riders and old friends like Justin. Old friends and past Roadies like my tentmate Eric. Maybe I'll see Keith & Jorge again. Or Kirstie. Jillian & Steve? I hope so. But, most of all, I hope to see my team from last year.

Dan & Molly & Erik & Jonathan & Harold. Jose & Paul &  Duke & Derek & Randy. I know Jeremy's not going to be able to ride this year but maybe Jamaal's leg will be healed enough to ride. Or Martijn or Dominic will be able to join us this year. Even with a week on the road - and nearly a year of training - I didn't get to spend anywhere near enough time with these amazing folks. Maybe this year I'll get moving a little faster in the morning and be able to ride out with Erik one day. Or maybe Molly will choose to Roadie instead of ride and I'll get to see her at one of the rest stops every day. If luck's on my side, Dan and I will be able to share a few more meals together. Or Randy and I will get to ride side-by-side just a little longer.

So many more... all the Pos Peds. Tim & Stefan & Bear & Bob & Deyon. My friends from Team San Diego. And Team Long Beach. And Team Portland - including the new recruit, my friend Rayme. There's Deborah - the woman who I only shared a moment with one

afternoon while in line for the Port-a-potties but whose hug was one of the many memories I'll hold with me forever. And anyone & everyone who had to hear my belt out the Brady Bunch's "It's A Sunshine Day" over & over again up that damn hill on that chilly, gray morning. There's not enough space here to mention all of you I think of fondly and hope to get to know better in the coming year.

But I know one of them will be Jordan who's heading out to Vegas in November to ride with me in the local Bike MS event. My first big "official" ride of the season. One hundred miles on Saturday then another fifty on Sunday (remember the "recovery rides," heh!). There will be friends at the NorCal & SoCal Expo's & Kick-off events. Might even be fortunate enough to ride some training rides in both cities too. Tour de Palm Springs is on my calendar again. And of course Day On The Ride. And this year we'll be inviting riders out to the desert again for another amazing ALC Wild West Weekend in the spring!

And friends, just because I didn't mention you here don't think I've forgotten you. Far too little space to remember all 2,800 of you in this blog - but you've all got plenty of space right here in my heart.

So, yeah, I'm doing it again. All the cold nights. The foggy days. The lines for bike maintenance. The rush to shower, eat & set up camp after riding 109 miles in a day. The lines for port-a-potties (and the single-ply toilet paper). Waking at 4:30 a.m. and hearing people in tents all around me snoring like freight trains. But also coming around a curve and seeing the ocean right in front of me. The little chats at the rest stops, or dinner, or while waiting in line to use that single-ply paper. People I barely know stopping to help me with a flat tire. Or stopping to take a pic of me at one of the many scenic areas we pedal through. Climbing the Quadbuster again but this time doing it just a little faster - and sweating just a little less. And, of course, you. Those of you who stood by me those eleven months and cheered me on. Donated to the cause. Offered a word of support when I was feeling worn out. Gave me a jersey as a gift. All those Mavericks in Texas! Those of you who allowed me to take you along for the ride. You know, even after completing the ride, it's hard to

comprehend I did it... or that I can do it again. Can't explain that one. From what I hear, it never really goes away - that disbelief that you can actually ride 545 miles. But like they told me last year, I can do it... and today's the day I officially kick it all off - went on my first training ride this morning - 27 miles - not much but, eh, it's a start. And in kicking off this year's training I want to do it in anticipation of seeing all these amazing folks I've come to know in the ALC Love Bubble. And in anticipation of all the new folks I'll be meeting for the first time. I want to spend the next year hearing the stories of why they ride. Or getting to know each of them just a little better.





But maybe most of all, I want to finally wear the amazing superhero cape, handmade by Kerry & her little helpers, that I earned last year but didn't have a chance to wear ;)

Seven Days In June

As you may know, I've been working on some magazine articles about my experience with AIDS/LifeCycle. The first of these has been published and I wanted to share it here. I haven't yet picked up an actual copy of the magazine but here's my submission, prior to any editing the pub may have done. If you happen to see one when you're out & about, pick one up!

_________________________________________________________________

My legs are stiff from climbing hill after hill. Three fingertips are numb from spending a week hunched over the handlebars. My right knee aches from pushing down on the pedals more than 200,000 times. And I have never felt better.


Yes, you read that right. I feel amazing. Accomplished. Strong. Because I just spent a week riding my bicycle 545 miles in AIDS/LifeCycle to raise money to support the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and the LA Gay & Lesbian Center.

Each year, more than 2,000 riders along with hundreds of volunteers trek from San Francisco to Los Angeles to take part in the world’s largest fundraiser of its kind. I’ve known about this event since its inception. Actually I’ve known about the ride since cyclists in its predecessor, the California AIDS Ride, first put foot to pedal in 1994 to raise monies for much needed HIV/AIDS programs and services. But I never made the commitment to participate. Through the years, I had all the excuses; not enough time, money, discipline, courage or experience. 

Then last summer, as I disembarked from a cruise ship after a relaxing week touring Alaska, I felt it was time for something different. For a vacation that was not only life-changing but gave back in some way. And AIDS/LifeCycle was the answer. I registered, pulled my dusty bike off its hook in the garage, cleaned it, and rode eight miles. Only eight? That’s when I realized I didn’t know what I was in for. Or how I would accomplish it. 

But I tried. And my training miles increased. As I spent more time on the road, I began to have more time to think about the reasons I chose to ride. As a young gay man in the early 1990s, I dealt with my share of loss from the disease. From the moment I registered, I knew I was riding for Paul. And Steve. And Bob, Micah, Kerry, Pedro, J.R. Shawn, Ken, Deidre, Barry and many, many others I’ve known who’ve died from AIDS. But that was just scratching the surface. I began to think about all those friends who’ve seroconverted in the years since. Friends who are still here today. Soon, words of gratitude came in from friends who are clients of SFAF and LAGLC. These are the faces behind the ride. The real people who benefit from the funds raised by the ride. These are the lives I was working to save. So I trained harder. Rode faster. And that’s when I found even more unexpected miracles on my journey.

As I rode more, I reached out and discovered a community I didn’t know existed. A seemingly impossible community of giving and support and experience. And, especially, of love. A community of cyclists, volunteers and staff ready, willing and able to make sure no rider is left behind. One that included the Positive Pedalers - a group of people with HIV who participate in AIDS rides around the country. I was welcomed into this community. Became one of them. They inspired, motivated and taught me. The community stretched far beyond the borders of California. Spanned from coast to coast. And across the oceans. London. Hong Kong. Paris. Zurich. And even if I didn't meet them until we shared the road, they were there for me. And I for them.

One way I stepped up was when a friend called to ask if I’d help lead his newly formed team and I agreed. Our team, Manning Up Allstars, was founded on the ideal that by creating active means for taking back your life, you can prove to yourself that you can accomplish not only the physically impossible but also overcome all types of adversity. As team captain, I watched this group of first year riders achieve individual greatness in every way imaginable and blow past our team goals as we dusted our expectation to raise $50,000 by finishing with a total of nearly $75,000.

Then came the ride itself. Beauty on a bike. Fog and sun and clouds and breezes. Green fields speckled with ripe strawberries and blue coasts crested by white waves. Scents of lavender and jasmine rushing past us. Townsfolk cheering us on. Neighbors ringing bells. Lunching under trees, dancing in the desert and camping under stars. But most of all, riding. And again remembering the reasons we ride. On our last night in camp we held a candlelight vigil on Ventura Beach. I looked around at the faces framed by flickering light. Men and women from all walks of life. Brought together by one common goal. I was struck most by the young faces. Those too young to have experienced the darkest days of this pandemic. Those who weren’t old enough to remember the time when HIV was taking our brothers and sisters in droves. Those who, hopefully, will never experience that kind of loss.

And it was in that moment I realized we did make a difference. Those of us on the ride this year and in previous years. Those who’ve promised to keep riding until HIV/AIDS are a thing of the past. We helped make that change. We saved lives. No, we’re not done yet. But there’s no doubt we’re getting closer to our goal.

And that was when I decided to ride again in 2014.

Ride with me.

About Life, Beauty and Love

Have you been wondering why there hasn't been a 3,000 word post describing my ride in full detail? Curious as to why I've been home for three weeks and haven't written a single word on this page? Been jonesing for some jimagery blogness in your life?

Well, the answer's quite simple. My writing time has been dedicated to some magazine articles. And they come with deadlines. And word counts. And have to by stylized in a much different way than what I write here. Unfortunately, when writing for mass consumption, I can't just shit it out and hope no one cares. And I figured I'd just share those articles with you once they're published and didn't want to duplicate my efforts here.

But today I'm taking a short break from that. I'll be returning to it later but had to write under my own terms and in my own way for a bit. Since I'm writing about the ride in broad strokes for these publications, I wanted to give you something different right now. Something about life on the road. Beauty rolling right in front of you - or sometimes passing on your left - during the ride. A love created in a community born through making a difference.

Prior to the ride - during my training & travels - I was introduced to this aspect of the event. Might have even written about it once or twice. The community that is born of AIDS/LifeCycle. Even just cycling or fitness in general. It starts simply I suppose. Like last weekend when I was riding and cyclists on the other side of the road would wave. Happened on my route on Thursday when a jogger on the sidewalk did the same. We don't often see that in our day-to-day lives. Yes, maybe we say, "Good morning," to our neighbors. But they're not total strangers. We see them regularly. Maybe even invite them over for to sit on the patio sometimes. What about strangers on the street or the bus? I find it rare that people say hello these days. Think about Starbucks. The barista says, "How are you today?" and often the reply is, "I'll take a skinny, decaf mocha."

During the ALC event, this friendliness is amplified. Something to do with working toward a common goal. Sharing a common struggle. Setting up a tent twelve inches from your neighbors. The understanding that it's up to us to watch out for each other. Here are some of my experiences and the people behind them.

Jose, Jonathan, Fabian, Erik & Matt

While waiting to board my flight in LA, I saw two guys walking up to the gate and one was carrying a bike helmet. When they passed by me, I looked up and said, "Are you riding?" They were. And we chatted. While waiting. Then again in line. Then I saved seats for them and on the plane and the conversation continued to San Francisco. Then kept going as we took BART into the city together. Although I didn't ride with them at all during the week, we'd continue our hello's whenever we'd bump into each other during the event. Turns out they did know some of my teammates though and spent plenty of time riding with them.

Loren with their two beautiful children.

Like most teams, our team didn't ride together as a whole during the event. There were a couple of mini-groups within our team that did but mostly, due to different sleep schedules and cycling paces, we integrated with the entire ALC community. For me that started on Day One since I was part of the Opening Ceremonies. Although I saw some of them in the crowd, once they released us to the starting line, there was no way I was going to find my teammates. As excited as I was, I also felt a little lost in the crowd. Here I was setting off on the biggest adventure of my life and had no one I knew beside me. Then a voice called my name and when I looked it was my friend Loren. His husband, Eric, was a Roadie and my tentmate. Loren had dropped us off for the ceremonies and stayed to watch. As luck would have it, when I took my position at the starting line I landed in a spot right next to where he was watching the cyclists ride out. He asked if he could take a picture... which he did. And when he lowered the camera from his face, I saw tears streaming down. Then I started sobbing. As we shared a long, deep hug across the barricade he wished me luck and I told him I loved him. Thank you for being there Loren.

Mel, Kerry & Ken (Chicken Lady) at the starting line.
(Take a close look at the top right corner... the day was full of emotion)

Starting to wipe away tears and still waiting to leave, I hear another call from the crowd. I turn to see my Cyclist Rep Kerry and her partner Melinda. First, let me say, these two helped me through so much these past months and we've shared so many experiences, including our Wild West Weekend trip. Whenever I reached out to one of them, they were there to help guide me in leading my team. And here they were, reaching out to me at the start. More tears. More hugs. Then Kerry said, "You did this. 14.2 million dollars." The last words I heard as I set off on my journey were how we as community achieved greatness. That gave me strength. And brought a huge smile. Then later in the day, I saw Kerry had posted a photo of me from that moment and the caption read, "My Hero." Just like you are two of mine. Thank you Kerry & Mel. For everything.

Look at that smile... just makes ya wanna hug him!

Tears were gone by the time I started rolling. And, again, as chance would have it, I wasn't meant to ride out alone. Within minutes of starting, we were stopped at a light (those first six miles were a little chaotic and, being in the city, there were plenty of stop signs & lights). That's where I found myself next to my teammate Paul. He was the only veteran rider on our team and I can't tell you how grateful we all were to have him. His Tuesday Tips kept us informed and help prepare us for the event. If we had a question, he had an answer. Even from San Francisco, he participated fully in the conversation on our team page and was always there to help us get through whatever it was we were going through. And here I was lucky enough to ride with him and chat during those first few miles of the event. My anxiety about the ride was completely gone now. I wasn't alone and knew I wouldn't be for the next seven days. Paul if I haven't told you, I appreciate you. More than you know.



Somewhere in those first miles of the ride, I got my first ALC crush. Okay, not my first since that had happened during training. But my first during the week of the event. Not exactly sure when Jorge and I were first introduced. I think it was on the road before the first water stop. At the water stop I asked if he'd take a picture of me and Eric, and he obliged. We rode together for a bit, but I broke away at some point. Then at San Gregorio Beach, I returned to the water bottle I had set down and there he was with his friends. He introduced me to his riding buddies, Keith & Jaime. Great guys all around. But of course they are... they're from Chicago. Had a great lunch chat and, throughout the week, I got to spend some quality time with them on the road, at rest stops or in camp. Even did a little skinny dipping together. That little moment... that first day at lunch... introduced me to the joys and wonders of community and friendship and little crushes that would follow me throughout the week.

Photo op with Fergus - Day 4, Rest Stop 1.
Just before the Evil Twins.

I can't write about the ride - and even the days leading up to it - without mentioning Fergus. A few months ago I received a donation from someone I didn't know. I later found he'd read an article about me and the ride and it motivated him to make a donation in my name. I sent out my thank you email and soon found he was riding as well. Yes, another rider donated to me. It happens more often than you think. And he donated to others as well, especially in those weeks leading up to the event when I was trying to help other riders reach their minimum. He stepped up then too and helped ensure no rider was left behind. I saw Fergus often during the ride. Actually met him face-to-face for the first time on Orientation Day as we were waiting in that long ass line, heh! What an inspiration. With everything that I went through in training and preparation, it was nothing compared to this guy who lives in Hong Kong. If I felt alone out here in the desert, just imagine what he felt training for the ride on the other side of an ocean. My trek from Las Vegas to San Francisco to set off on the ride pales in comparison to his journey to be a hero in the ALC community. Fergus' strength & commitment to the cause inspired me throughout this adventure. Thankfully, we'd bump into each other here or there during the week and share a Clif Bar or take a photo together. Another of the amazing people I discovered on this journey. Fergus, thank you for crossing an ocean in the fight against HIV/AIDS. And thank you for being a friend.

Speaking of crossing oceans - and of ALC crushes - there's one group that comes right to mind. Team Swiss. If there were a "Friendliest Team Award" during the ride, this group would be in the running. Met them early on - not exactly sure when - but if I saw them in my line of sight during the week I refused to pass up a chance to say hello. Never saw these guys (and girl) without smiles on their faces. They had an energy that's indescribable. Accepted everyone into their circle. Embraced the LifeCycle community in an unbelievable way. Some of my best memories during the ride were moments spent laughing and chatting with them. As for inspiration - toward the end of the ride I discovered one of them (Francesco, I think) had actually sold his car to purchase a bike for the ride. That's commitment. That's AIDS/LifeCycle. Hope to see all of you next year - and maybe then I'll tell you which one(s) I have a crush on!




While I'm on the topic of riders from overseas, I gotta give a shout out to Kirstie. Met her Day Two at Rest Stop Two. She shared the inflatable dragon float with me (our bums needed some comfort by then!). Cute girl. Smart girl. Friendly girl. Funny girl. Another who I never rode with but kept me company throughout the week. Little chats at rest stops, a Barbie photo op at the Mission. She hails from Cambridge, lived in Berkeley for her graduate studies, and even after moving back to England has continued her commitment to ALC. Love your smile, kiddo. And miss seeing you on the road.

Day 6, loading up gear with Adam & Justin (and a banana)

And, as this blog seems to be getting longer than a bill before Congress, let's wrap up the topic of ALC crushes too. On our first day in camp, as Eric and I were setting up our tent, I noticed a couple of guys doing the same across the way. Good looking guys. And obviously having a blast from what I saw of their antics. At some point I introduced myself and found that one of them, Adam, was our tent neighbor and the other, Justin, a friend of his was camping elsewhere. Didn't really see them much outside of camp. They probably left earlier than me (I was always slow to start in the mornings... I like my coffee time). But their friendliness struck me the first evening. Then on Day Two, after I rolled into camp after getting a flat a half mile before finishing, Adam overheard me telling the story to Eric. He offered some kind words - calming thoughts - and it was then I really took a liking to him. Even more than the previous night when his towel fell off to expose his cute bum. We did chance upon each other now and again during the week - but not as often as I would've liked since Eric and I began camping "off-grid" the next night. These are some of the many I wish I'd gotten to know better during the week. Just two of the 2,203 Riders and 552 Roadies I wanted to have around me for more than a week. But oh so very grateful I had even just a few moments with their bright souls.

As Erik said, wearing a red dress isn't at all emasculating.
I also learned it's not a proven method
to make you pretty either ;)

I'm realizing this blog could go on for days. I could share the story of Nora, who I met early on in the ride and who stopped to help me - even when I didn't need help - when I got that flat on Day Two. Or of Charlie & Ada who I first met on Day Two and bumped into again and again during the week. They were friends, and teammates, with Michael - another rider I donated to and was fortunate enough to meet during the week. There's Jordan, who I love and had met during training. We shared a few fun moments along the route. And Jen, a Roadie, who I first met when riding from San Francisco to Fairfax back in February. The Hooligans from San Diego. Shelley, one of my faves from Long Beach. Paul who loaned me his bike for a training ride when I was visiting San Francisco. Eric, another Cyclist Rep who hugged me during the candlelight vigil. Greg, the Director of ALC, who stopped for a chat with me a few times during the week. Troy, who I saw at Rest Stop Two day and day again, whose sexiness came through not just in his smile - but in his intellect (ok, ALC Crush #3). My team - oh man - my team - all the inspiration and motivation and faith and love and belief in the cause they gave me. Had a couple of amazing one-to-one moments with Molly. Tons of bear hugs from Dan. Riding with Randy & Jeremy. Getting silly with Paul & Erik & Jose & Duke & Derek & Jonathan in our red dresses. And can't forget my Vegas peeps - Aaron & Van & Tara - who joined me to train at moments I felt most alone. The woman who hugged me on Day Four while we were waiting in line for the porta-potties. Or Jim who took some video of me with his GoPro camera. And Eric... my friend, my tentmate, and the guy who listened to my joys & complaints at the end of each day. Team Popular. Team Unpopular. Team B-List (just popular enough). Team Mary. Team Dilly-Dally.  James McCaleb, my first Cyclist Rep. The townsfolk who greeted us around every corner. Chicken Lady. Condom Man. Anyone holding a Red Vine out to me... or a strawberry... or a cookie. Seriously, this blog couldn't handle all I could write about the people involved in this event.

And so I end this with more than fond memories. On the day I returned to the "real world" I realized it didn't have to end. AIDS/LifeCycle was a moment in time. A journey made by a few thousand people that brought us to a common understanding. One that, looking at our lives, isn't much different than our day-to-day. You see, we're all in this together. All seven billion of us. We've only got each other to look out for ourselves. This life we live is an adventure together - one to be shared and cherished and celebrated. And even a simple hello. Or a quick chat with the woman sitting next to you on the bus. A wave to say good morning, A couple minutes sharing your day with the Starbucks barista. They bring love into the world. And that love carries on to others. None of us are too busy for that. And none of us are alone.

None of us.

Make someone smile today. Bring a stranger into your life, if only for a moment. You may cross paths again. And they'll remember you fondly. Or maybe you won't ever meet again. And they'll still remember you fondly. I experienced seven days of pure bliss. Joy. Love. We call it the Love Bubble like it's something unique to ALC. But it's not. The Love Bubble is everywhere. We just need to make it happen. We live in it every day. We determine how strong - or weak - it is. It's up to each of us to keep it full and bright. So what will you do to contribute to it each and every day?

Dear Allstars

May 27, 2013 Hey Allstars, Well, we’re just a few days away from the ride of our lives. Before we set out, I wanted to take a moment to tell you how grateful I am to be riding with this amazing team. As a first-year team comprised almost entirely of newbies, it’s been inspiring to watch everyone grow as cyclists, raise more money than anyone ever expected and work together with such cohesion. But we were fortunate to have a secret weapon too and I’d be remiss in not mentioning how thankful I am we were joined by a veteran rider, Paul, who’s helped guide us through everything AIDS/LifeCycle is about. Few of us knew each other before we started this journey together. Actually, it was just a stroke of luck that brought me to Manning Up Allstars. Prior to joining the team, I had contacted another team. But that captain was away on vacation at the time. While I was waiting for a reply from them, Jeremy finalized the details for this team and I asked to join him. That’s my story and I don’t know how some of you came to become Allstars - except Molly & Paul who we pestered daily until they caved, heh! But you all did join us and when we cross that finish line on June 8, we will truly be brothers & sisters in the fight against HIV/AIDS. Some of you came to the team as friends. And others have forged connections because of the team. And a few of you will meet for the first time this Saturday. I feel like I’ve been the luckiest since I’ve not only met everyone (except one... Geovanny I’ll finally get the chance to see you on Saturday!), but I’ve had the opportunity to ride with each of you too. Our first team ride around the Los Angeles Zoo was with Derek, Duke, Randy, Jeremy and even Molly who none of us knew until that day. Not a stellar ride at only 9.5 miles but definitely memorable due to the bitter cold and Jeremy’s chain falling off every ten minutes. Shortly after that, a few Allstars - Duke, Randy, Martijn, Jeremy and I joined Paul in San Francisco for the NorCal Kickoff/Expo and our first team fundraiser. The next day Paul and I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge together on our bikes. It was the day I learned what a strong rider Paul is and also the day we found out Duke gets lost easily but has no problem creating his own little “Tour de Duke.” In March, Erik, Jonathan, Molly, Duke and I were so proud as we all finished our longest ride at the time when we completed 60 miles in the Tour de Palm Springs. I rode with Harold the first time the following day, then again when he joined us here in Vegas for Wild West Weekend. Jose nearly killed me trying to keep up with him on our first ride together before the SoCal ALC Expo. Finally, just last month, there was Day on the Ride and Allstars were represented by almost the entire team - Duke, Erik, Jonathan, Jeremy, Dan, Molly, Randy and myself. What a challenging day... but many of us completed our longest rides ever in that heat. And some learned the mechanical challenges (and frustrations) that are part of long rides. All of this will culminate next week as we come together from Los Angeles, Palm Springs, San Francisco and Las Vegas and ride as a full team for the first time. For seven days. Covering 545 miles. The week we’ve all been working toward. And wow, have you been working. I did some research and gotta say for a first year team we’ve been incredibly successful in recruitment, training and fundraising. Many first year teams are small but we topped out at twenty. Unfortunately, we’ve lost teammates for many reasons and although it will be bittersweet to ride without Martijn or Michael or Jamaal or Dominic, thirteen of us will be at Cow Palace on Saturday. And did you know our team has completed more than 13,000 miles in training. That’s an average of 1,000 miles each (although Jose gets the medal for most training miles completed, clocking in at over 2,500!). And I don’t even want to think about how much money we’ve spent collectively on gear & bikes. But all of that is just the means to an end. Raising money to benefit the LA Gay & Lesbian Center and the San Francisco AIDS Foundation. Sure some other teams have raised more money - but they’re seasoned teams and most are much larger than the Allstars. And we’re right up there with them even though this was all new to us. Being new didn’t stop us from reaching our goal two months before the ride then blowing past it by raising almost 50% more! Half of you have earned $5K jerseys... which is a major feat but after seeing how many of our fellow cyclists are still struggling to reach $3,000, the fact that our team has reached their minimums to ride is a stellar accomplishment! Proud doesn’t even begin to explain how I feel about each and every one of you. So take some time this week to treat yourself well for all the hard work you’ve completed. Splurge on that one piece of gear you don’t really need... but really, really want. Take a nap or two (it might be the last for seven days). Get a massage. Eat some ice cream. Stretch and keep those legs limber. And most importantly, don’t stress. Just take a moment to reflect on where you were... and where you are now. You’ve accomplished so much and there’s no doubt in my mind... YOU GOT THIS! Jim (a.k.a. Rider #1655)

Our First Training Ride

"Token"

NorCal AIDS/LifeCycle Kickoff & Expo

Cycling across the Golden Gate Bridge

Palm Springs Meet & Greet

Tour de Palm Springs

Palm Springs Recovery Ride

Wild West Weekend

SoCal AIDS/LifeCycle Expo

SoCal AIDS/LifeCycle Day On The Ride

Manning Up!