More Funny...

After last night's post, not only did I promise something more lighthearted but my friend Jon made a personal plea for, "More funny AIDS!"

AIDS. Funny? Shit! I'm in trouble.

Maybe he meant something like, "Well, at least if I get syphilis now it won't seem like such a big deal."

No, that's not funny.

Wait...wait... what about....

Stop right there... it's time for "The Talk."

A fourth-grade boy returns home after HIV Awareness Day at school.

When his mother asks him what he learned that day he replies, "I'm not sure but I think I'm s'posed to avoid intersections and buy a lot of condominiums."

Cute? Aw, c'mon - of course it is! A fourth grader? Condominums?
Argh... tough audience! Let's hit the other end of the age spectrum...

An older man consults with his wife's doctor after an exam. The doc says, "I'm not sure what's wrong with her.... but I've narrowed it down...it's either Alzheimer's or AIDS."

The man says, "AIDS or Alzheimer's - what tests do you have to be sure which one it is?"

"Well, drop her off across town and if she finds her way home, don't f*%# her."

Too dirty?

You go girl! SMOKE that CIGAR!

Let's try a political joke...


If a wife finds out about her husband's infidelity, she might worry about getting AIDS from sex.

Hillary, on the other hand, had to worry about her husband getting sex from aides.

Not only aspirin... saves on
antivirals too!

Falls flat? Damn, politics is always a touchy subject. 

Maybe we should go down the "benefits of using protection" path...


There's not much difference between having a baby and having AIDS. I mean, they're both expensive, you have them for the rest of your life, and they're a constant reminder of the mistakes you've made.

Plus, once you have them you can pretty much only date others who have them too.

And when he stripped off his clothes,
she said, "Oh my God, THAT'S ALL?!?!"

Ugh. I told you this was tough. How about putting it in perspective:

Back in the 70's, if a doctor told someone they had herpes, the patient broke down and cried.



Nowadays, they shout out, "THANK GOD THAT'S ALL!"









Screw it...
let's try something in even worse taste....

I don't even wanna know what they did
with those fingers last night.

Some douchebag strikes gold when he finds a willing girl in the hippest singles bar in town. After a passionate night of playing "hide the sausage," they fall asleep in each others arms.
The next morning, he walks up to her as she's cooking some eggs & bacon for them. A little worried about the previous night's spontaneity, he says, "By the way, I didn't ask you if you have AIDS."
She assures him she does not have HIV or AIDS.
He breathes a huge sigh of relief, "Whew! I'd hate to catch that again!"

People, we all know HIV & AIDS isn't funny. But those of us who live with it do what everyone in life does when faced with challenges. We find the humor in it. 'Cuz, y'know, laughter is the best medicine, eh?

If you know a funny joke about anything, leave it in the comments section because we all need a good laugh now and again!

(p.s. I do not own the rights or privileges to any of these jokes or images. I also do not own you so, if you find yourself offended by any of the above, well, just be glad you don't have a 'fro like that guy up there!)

Someone Saved My Life Tonight

As you know, I've recently switched jobs. New employer. New responsibilities. New team. New projects. And new insurance. Today I received my new insurance card in the mail. No big deal, eh? Often, we don't think much about these things. Many of us who work have some type of insurance. If you're young, you may be on your parents insurance. If you're a senior, you may be on Medicare. For me, insurance is a big deal. And those 37 days without an insurance card did create some anxiety.

One day I may share my story about how I came to find out I had the virus and what those days, weeks & years after were like. But today is about medical coverage and treatment. And, for many of those early years, insurance wasn't much of an issue for me. I was very fortunate because I didn't have a need for medications for years. Many of the tests available today weren't available back in the day so lab costs were much lower too. But as we saw advances in treatment and monitoring, we also saw an increase in medical costs.

That guy on the right? That's a man with AIDS, circa 1998.
That woman on the left. That's Teri Lynn.
One of my closest friends for the past 15 years.

For me, those costs first appeared in the late 90's. In 1998, I received an AIDS diagnosis because my CD4 count had dropped below 200. For those who may not be familiar, that means that my immune system was running at about 25% of the average "healthy" person. Doctors and researchers and statisticians had determined that 200 was the "uh-oh" milestone. It was the point where the body may have difficulty fighting off ordinary, everyday exposure to ordinary, everyday environmental things like bacteria, viruses, and fungus.

I was petrified. Twenty-seven years old and all those years of good health - and good luck - were coming to an end. But I still had an Ace up my sleeve. I worked in the field of HIV education and support. I knew exactly what to do. Even more, I knew that 1998 was not 1991 and those of us who were living with the virus now had options.

So....

I marched into my doctor's office (well, I didn't march... I showed up for an appointment, filled out some forms, sat in the waiting room, was finally called back, listened to his questions... you know the routine). After all that normal BS you have to deal with in order to get five glorious minutes with the physician, I informed him I knew exactly how I wanted to approach my treatment, wanted to hit it hard & heavy, and needed a prescription for the following:

- Norvir, three soft-gels 2x a day

- Epivir, two tablets, 2x a day

-Zerit, two tablets, 2x a day

I have to be honest... this treatment was more than cutting edge at the time. It limited the number of pills I had to take. Ten. That's it. One-Zero. 10. But definitely not the "Bo Derek with cornrows" kind of 10. Five pills for breakfast was my side dish and five before bed was my late-night snack.

Even more, the listed side-effects for these seemed less than desirable. You know, the usual stuff... headaches, dehydration, fever, chills, skin rashes, hives, lactic acidosis, liver failure, death.

Again, I was fortunate. I only experienced one major side-effect. A numbing of the tongue & mouth and loss of taste. And that numbing/loss happened about 3-4 hours after dosing. For the year I was on this regimen, I never tasted my lunch. The numbness was worse than any Novocaine I've ever received for a root canal. This was worth it though because within weeks my viral load was undetectable and my CD4 counts began to climb within a few months. The treatment was working!

Because a kid with a morning buzz is
a very well behaved child. Except for
the running into walls thing.

Alas, this treatment wasn't without other challenges. About six months in, our friends over at Abbott Laboratories began having difficulties manufacturing the soft-gels - the "gel" began to crystalize inside the capsule and they had to halt production. But there was a backup plan - a liquid version that had primarily been used for pediatric treatment (yes, children get HIV too). So, no more soft-gels for me. Nope, instead I had to take spoonfuls of an elixir that I once told my doctor tasted like I was doing a shot of Goldschlager mixed with a shot of Jaegermeister... twice a day. Can you imagine doing a double-shot of hard liquor every morning? The doc told me that yeah, the medication  was about 100-proof  (48% alcohol) and the flavorings were added to cover the nasty taste of the medication. Yeah, that was my life.

Again, how grateful can I be for progress? Just when I thought I couldn't deal with another buzz with my breakfast and hangover with my tasteless lunch, a new drug came out and I jumped on it. Not only would it lower the number of pills I had to take each day ( down to seven!), the side-effects were much less debilitating (or taste-affecting). It was called Sustiva. It was three pills taken at night. And the side-effects were "vivid dreams." Seriously... vivid dreams! Who couldn't handle that?

C'mon, click on the pic - you know you're curious!

Holy crap. Vivid doesn't even begin to describe these dreams. Imagine being at an IMAX theater watching Lord of the Rings in 3-D, and then hearing 101 Dalmatians in Dolby through the wall of the adjoining theater. And, the kicker was, I was STARRING in them both! Seriously, these were the most 3D, HD, F*@#-D movies you could ever imagine and they were all coming from in my head and entertaining me from 11 p.m. 'til 6 a.m. Again though, this was progress. No more gastro-intestinal issues (e.g. stomach problems). No more numb-lunch-mouth. No more Jaeger with my Wheaties.

3-pills-in-1. Easy as 1-2-3.
Or just  1 really.

Ah, and boy did I enjoy those dreams. Still do actually. You see, I'm still on that regimen. Yep. Except, you don't think progress has stopped in the past twelve years, do you? No, not at all. Serious progress. You see. Those seven pills I used to take have now been distilled down into one. Kinda like some George-Jetson-era-meal-in-a-pill - everything you need in one little swallow. Yep. One. Single. Solitary. Pill. Taken at night still - because the last thing you want is to have those dreams in a waking state. The dreams I can handle. But admittedly there are other side effects over the long-term. Minor things - issues with concentration, chronic insomnia (the mind can't handle all those dreams every night!), and short-term memory loss. So if I ever forget to show up for a date with you, forgive me. I blame it on the Atripla.  Um, wait a second. When was the last time I had a date? I forget.

Okay, this entry wasn't about medications - it was about insurance, right? Damn issues with concentration! Okay, maybe a little ADHD is a side-effect too. Anyhow, here we go... back to the insurance issue....

That one pill you see sandwiched between that thumb & forefinger - how much do you think it goes for?

Ten dollars?

Seventeen Euros?

Two hundred eighty five Pesos?

Two thousand, three hundred Yen?

Nah, not even close. That pill, in that hand, cost approximately sixty-five dollars. $65. Yeah. Don't get out your calculator 'cuz I've already done the math - it's about $1,950 per month.

And it keeps me alive. Not to be dramatic or anything - but something saved my life tonight - and last night - and the night before. Of course, there's a price to be paid for this kind of stuff. And that price is close to $25,000 per year.

White-out on my card?
What did you think? I'd give up my SSN on a f'g blog?

Ahhhh, getting the segue yet? Yeah I came full circle, back on topic, focusing on insurance. You see, how many of us have $25,000 a year to spend on medication? I know I don't. And that's why this little insurance card means so much to me. It knocks that cost down to about $720 a year. For medication at least. Other things like doc visits and lab tests aren't free either. No, those cost me about $2,000 out of pocket. But, you know what - I'm pretty sure that's all a small price to pay.

And, to keep this all focused on the reason for this blog... the people who receive these services from the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and the LA Gay & Lesbian Center don't even make $25K a year in income. Most are lucky to make ten or fifteen thousand a year total from disability. So how do they get these life-saving medications? These organizations help pay their insurance premiums, or cover their co-pays on their COBRA, or even provide some medications and services free of charge. The funds that support these programs come from the people that support these organizations - people like you who support my ride.

Last, but definitely not least, I have one more secret to share. I'm not trying to be dramatic (ok, yes, I am a little - but I'm trying to raise $5K for this ride - a little drama may be in order). I've been the recipient of some of these benefits in my life. During periods of unemployment, when I've been laid-off, and unable to afford my own health insurance, I've gone to agencies like these to cover my COBRA payment or my co-pay for my medications.

(Here I go with the heart-string tug)

Think about it. Because I know each of you who are reading this know me personally. If these services weren't available during the time I needed them most, I may not be here today to be writing this blog. You may not have ever met me. Or you may be looking at that little book I bought you for your birthday ten years ago and thinking back to the time that we used to hang out. That time that can never be recaptured because...

Yeah. That's what your donations do. They save people like me. People who have friends like you.

This is why I'm riding 545 miles next June.

This is why I can never express how grateful I am for the contributions and support I've received.

I. Am. Blessed.

And your contributions go to help others feel as blessed as me.

J-

I apologize for tugging the heart strings, but all of the above is true. If you'd like to contribute to my ride and help save someones life tonight, then please visit my fundraising page and consider donating. Thank you.

AIDS/LifeCycle Fundraising Page for Jim Akers

Vegetarian Chronicles

A few months ago I was at my friend Lisa's place having dinner with her family and I mentioned I was thinking about trying out a vegetarian diet. Her first question was very ordinary and probably falls in the top three questions asked when a discussion like this starts.... "Why?"

Is this what vegetarians eat? Partly.

As simple & expected as the question was, I wasn't prepared to answer it because I hadn't explored the reasons behind a dietary change like this. So we carried on with our dinner, went for an evening swim, and talked about other things until long after the sunset. All the while trying to decipher "Damianisms" - random little thoughts with quite deep meaning which seem to only come from her wonderful husband Damian. We'd been distracted and the topic didn't come up again the rest of the night.

Then, the next day while I was at home alone I started really thinking about it. Why would I want to become a vegetarian?

On the surface, there are all the generic answers, each of which is true:

Fried chicken and mashed potatoes
may not be good for my cholesterol.

• For health reasons - my cholesterol has slowly climbed over the years and my doc put me on a low-fat/low-cholesterol diet recently. Plus, it would kind of naturally put me in a position to eat more fruits & veggies since I'd be taking an entire food group out of my routine. Then there's the whole "mercury in my fish" thing... no Mad-Hatter life for me, thank you!
• For environmental reasons - hundreds of thousands of acres of corn crops used for animal feed... methane gases produced by cattle contributing to the depletion of the ozone layer... dirty runoff from livestock farms finding its way into our waterways. Who wants to swim in a not-quite-pristine lake full of parasitic intestinal organisms and diluted pig dung?
• For ethical reasons - commercial livestock farms often treat their animals poorly. There are usually far too many animals in far too little space. Their diets aren't appropriate for their needs. Workers have been known to abuse them. Genetic modification and/or breeding for particular "desirable" characteristics has resulted in things like chickens with breast muscles too large for their bodies. Hormones cause animals muscles to grow more quickly than their bones, which can result in crippling or death.
• Due to peer pressure - have you seen Food, Inc. or any of the dozens of other movies on the topic? 'Nuf said.

Medium-rare, please.

But none of those reasons has ever been enough to change my mind about my omnivorous desires. Sure, I've changed my habits over the years - free-range, cage-free, wild-caught, grass-fed, pasture-raised, hormone/antibiotic free - but I've always enjoyed a rich pasta sauce full of savory sausage; a tuna fish sandwich; a turkey meatloaf; or a steak from the grill. Mmmmmmm, steak!

No, what I realized was I loved my non-meat meals. A gorgeous, colorful salad with some cheese and hard-boiled egg crumbled on top. A pot of thick, lentil soup on a cold winters day. Cheese quesadillas. Spicy veggie stir fry served over sticky brown rice. Grilled bell peppers and portobello mushrooms. Oatmeal. Pasta. Hummus. Mmmmmm, hummus!

Yes, love to cook. 'Cuz tempeh
out of the package just doesn't work.

Although there are many health, environmental, ethical and societal reasons to become a vegetarian, for me it came down to the fact that I really loved the food. Loved it just as much as I loved meat. And when I added in all those other reasons, it seemed like a good idea. Yeah, those other reasons are probably the foundation of it all but, in the end, I would've never tried it if I didn't find the dishes incredibly palatable and also have a real passion for cooking. Because, one thing I know, if you're going to become a vegetarian you should probably love to cook. There are just far too few ready-to-eat options available to really keep me satisfied for long - or to provide all the nutritional requirements.

For any readers who aren't familiar, I don't want you to think I've sworn off animal products altogether. Due to my metabolism and this bike training, I have some pretty high protein requirements which is why I've decided to keep eggs & dairy in my diet. Plus, you don't just go run a marathon without first running a mile or two in training, right? So I chose a lacto-ovo vegetarian plan - milk, cheese, yogurt, eggs. All I decided to cut out was beef, pork, chicken, lamb and seafood of all types. If it had eyes, lungs or a brain, it was out.

A little lacto, a little ovo.

Honestly, I didn't swear off anything. I simply said I would try it for a week... seven days... baby steps. 'Cuz sometimes slow & steady wins the race. So  how'd I do?

Well, the first week was... simple. I made some lentil dhal and a yummy three-bean salad to stick in the fridge and have around for quick meals. When I craved a burger, I scrambled some eggs, threw in veggies, and topped it all with some cheese. The night I went out , had two drinks and got hungry on the way home, I stopped by the hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint and picked up a bean, cheese & rice burrito (with hot carrots & cucumbers - yum!). Ate granola in the morning and snacked on carrots with hummus in the afternoon. It went so well, I decided to do it for another week.

Steak even makes a salad look better!

Not as easy. Made another dhal - split-pea this time - which was just as good as the lentil one (actually, it was better), but legumes over rice can get boring. One night I was REALLY tired and didn't feel like cooking and the thought of running out for a burger almost caused me to cave. My food supplies were dwindling since I hadn't been shopping which resulted in very little variety in my menu. And my friends kept posting pics on Facebook of bacon wrapped shrimp, wet sloppy joes, and steak off the grill. Mmmmmm, steak!

Dhal can get dull.

But I held strong - and have made it two full weeks. After my experiences this past week, I went out shopping again but only after I had looked up a few new recipes to try out. I bought quinoa & arborio. Dark green Italian squash and golden sweet potatoes. New spices like garam masala & curry. And whole wheat pizza dough and pita bread. I now head into week three with such a variety of food options that I know I won't get bored. My grocery bill was less than it would normally be. And if we encounter an Armageddon or disastrous viral outbreak in the next couple weeks, I have enough food to live on for a couple months. Even more, I specifically looked up a recipe that would satisfy my "meat & potato" upbringing. Tonight, I will make fake "steak" cutlets with mashed sweet potatoes, veggie gravy and sauteed squash. I have a feeling it will look like a meal we're all familiar with but taken out of a sci-fi novel.

Or maybe it's just gaseous weight from all the beans?

Oh, and those who know me know I have huge challenges in gaining weight. That was one of my greatest anxieties about attempting this. But, I made sure to eat extra large portions and nibble on snacks throughout the day and my weight did more than maintain - I actually gained three pounds. To say the least, those anxieties have evaporated and knowing that weight is from organic, whole, unprocessed foods makes me feel even a little bit better.

Hoarders Do Keep Treasures

I'd like to say I've been lazy about blogging lately (those who followed my blog years ago know very well that I can get lazy about it!). But, no... I'm just busy with work & life. And there's nothing wrong with that, eh?

And part of the focus of this blog is to share all the reasons I ride - all twenty-plus years of reasons. I took a few minutes to dig through some old file folders today (seriously, it was like an archaeological dig). There were so many little "finds" of a very young me. Here's one from when I was 25 years old. Back then, I managed a community HIV education program and one spring we took a group of young speakers from Portland, OR all the way out to a small county in Eastern Oregon. We spent our days telling our stories to class after class. High schools, elementary schools, community colleges, middle schools. And, one night, the community had scheduled a "Town Hall" meeting and asked us to participate by sharing our stories. There were five of us... and I was the oldest. Jako was on that panel. And a very young, beautiful couple - Erick and Christine. Who was the fifth? Ah, crap - how I can I forget who the fifth participant was? That surprises me. Because, of the thousands (and I mean, THOUSANDS) of speaking engagements I participated in, this was one of the most memorable. I think Jako would agree with that.

Maybe it was because we had spent a day traveling across the state to get to this little burg. Could've been the fact we had spent the week speaking to dozens of groups, fielding questions, deflecting religious protests and freaked out parents (I mean, God forbid you talk to children about HIV! Hearing how it's transmitted could harm them for life!). The Town Hall might have been memorable because it was the culmination of a week spent together, sleeping in college visitor dorm rooms, shuttling around from school to school as a group. And maybe we were just worn out and emotional. But I don't think it was any of those things. That night - and to this day - I think it was one of those magical moments when a group of people connect on a level that we rarely get to experience. I'm not just talking about the five of us that were on the panel. No... the audience. For those two hours, everyone in that room was one.

We tried something new that evening. I remember telling the team that I wanted to ensure it seemed coherent and structured. My memory tells me the reason I made this request was because I was very anxious about this event. The entire town was invited - and we'd experienced some less than optimal experiences during the week. So we structured it by sticking to a "round-robin" kind of presentation. I started, and told my story up to a particular milestone. Then passed it on to the next person, who then told their story up to the same milestone. We worked our way down the panel then it was back to me to continue my story to the next milestone.

By the second round, I remember listening to Jako speaking and the tears began streaming down my face. It was around this time she happened to look over at me and her own waterworks started. By the end of that second round, an entire county was bawling in this tiny little community center.

We hadn't told a story any different than the one we had told many, many times before. I don't know exactly what it was that did it. But that experience - the whole experience, from the road trip to each of those panel discussions - has stuck with me 'til this day. And today in my little excavation, I found dozens of letters from some of the audience members from that trip. At the time it seemed like everyone in the county wrote to us. Many of the letters were addressed to the others in the group and I passed those on to them. As for this one, it may not be one of the best but it felt very "real" to me. So here it is... from a young woman named Abby (all last names are hidden for confidentiality reasons). A woman who was my age - twenty-five - at the time she met our little group.

So, yeah, maybe I am a hoarder since I'm holding on to things that are old and worthless. But, as they say, one mans junk is another ones treasure. 

(Click on the images to see full size. You can then right click on the image and save  to your computer for easier reading. Or just hit CTRL and "+" on this page - that'll zoom in for ya)

A Blogger's Work Is Never Done...

...but can be made much easier if he or she links off to articles they've written in the past. And that's especially important on a day like today... 'cuz I've got a lot of work to do right now!

Big smiley face (forgive me, I don't know how to do emoticons on my blog yet - remember, I was a blogger in the 90's and keeping up is hard to do).

So here's a little something, something I wrote in 2008 for my friends at Polari Magazine:

http://www.polarimagazine.com/oralhistory/eighteen/

Bet you didn't know I was a "published" writer, heh!

Labor of Love

It's Labor Day! A national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity & well-being of our great country. I hope those of you who had the day off were able to spend some quality time with those you love. And maybe a dip in the pool, a few steaks (or some yummy Portobello mushrooms!) on the grill, or an ice-cold beer on the patio - because for all the hard work you do, a treat is well deserved.

Douche

For those who had to clock-in today, my apologies. My opinion is that just as many people who get the Christmas holiday off should get the Labor Day holiday off too. I mean - most of us are workers and today is a celebration of us. That said, there are some who believe today is actually in honor of the business owner and corporate CEO. Those silly Republicans! I mean, they know the U.S. Constitution and the Bible from front to back, and back to front, right? But the purpose of a little holiday seems to elude them. Feel free to ask the owners of your company why you had to work on Labor Day though. They probably have a very understandable explanation about how much money they could make during this holiday.

I digress - but only because I was slightly disgusted by Mr. Cantor's tweet earlier today and I needed to blow off some steam.

Now back to the real topic of this blog. AIDS/LifeCycle training, inspiration and passion!

And, let me tell you folks - today was a day full of passion for the ride! Just like the Fourth of July, I decided to take advantage of the day off work by riding in Red Rock Canyon. Unlike the Fourth of July, today was a bit warmer - it was 85-degrees when I set out and 94-degrees when I got back to my car. That was partly due to the fact that I got a later start. My fault since I didn't prepare last night like I should have - didn't pack my food, didn't mix my electrolyte drinks, didn't put all my gear together in one pile, didn't check the air on my tires, didn't pack essentials in my saddle bag. I also kinda sat around drinking coffee for awhile this morning - I mean, have you seen the sunrises from my house? I had to enjoy it this morning! My tardiness might have had a little something to do with the kids who egged my car last night too. Didn't notice it until I was loading my bike into the back of the SUV and had to clean it off before I parked my car in the hot desert sun for two hours. Fried egg stuck to my car wasn't something I wanted to deal with after my ride, heh!

But I got it all together (and all washed off) because nothing was going to keep me from my goal today! You see, today's ride was in honor of all of those who have so generously donated to provide assistance to those living with and affected by HIV/AIDS and the other friends who have shown their kindness by providing gear needed for an epic ride like this. So there I was, geared up and ready to go....

And go I did! Having just gotten back on the bike recently, I didn't think I was ready for the 36-mile accomplishment I made on July 4th so last night I set a different goal as a way to recognize those supporters - one mile for each of them - 22 donors & 4 gear sponsors - 26 miles. And there was no way I was going to let them down!

However, I forgot that the route I chose meant I had a long upward climb! One-thousand, two-hundred and five feet up. Seriously. Up and up and up. The steepest grade was close to six percent. And don't let people fool you - just because there's a downhill on the other side, it is not as easy as a completely flat ride. That climb slows me down tremendously - and I don't make up the time on the downhill. Yes, I go faster - but not twice as fast! I mean, there are speed limits and safety to think about! And my bike, cool as it is, just can't hit those speeds.

But climb I did. And each stroke on those pedals was powered by all of you who believe in me. I might have only been riding 26 miles to represent those who have donated so far - but that's only because there's no way I'm ready to ride enough miles to represent all of those who have wished me well, cheered me on, sent kind words, and shared my fundraising & blog pages with their friends. Hell, I don't think I'll ever be able to ride that many miles!

The ride was beautiful but the cars I encountered on the ride were pretty sweet too. I mean, can you imagine just pulling over on your bike to take a little break for some trail mix and see these pull up in front of you? Ferraris, Lamborghinis & Jaguars. I'm proud of my new ride but it paled in comparison. Y'know what made me feel proud though? The fact that I got to that rest area on my own power - my own two legs - and did it for a good cause. But who knows, maybe they were driving their luxury cars for a good cause too - ya never know! They could probably do 545 miles in a couple hours!

As Red Rock always does, it provided wonderful natural vistas. Big sky. Soft clouds. Joshua trees. Canyon rock. And, honestly, you can see for miles (well, when you're not climbing uphill). It's a big part of what makes that climb so worthwhile.

At every stop, I thought of each of you. Sometimes a song would come on the iPod that reminded me of a bottle of wine shared with you or a camping trip we experienced together. For almost two hours, I was reminded of the beauty in the simplicity of the world - and the graciousness of a simple act of kindness.

Those simple acts provide something far from simple. Did you know a $20 donation pays for an HIV test for someone who may not be able to afford it on their own? And during this test they receive counseling and support on how to stay negative or how to protect their partners if it turns out they're positive? Did you know that one of the benificiaries, the L.A. Gay & Lesbian Center, provides HIV tests to nearly 10,000 people a year? Your twenty bucks helped one of them know their status.

And providing greater support - digger deeper into our pockets - isn't always as simple as it seems. Just as the services they provide aren't simple. A $100 donation can cover the monthly co-pay for life-saving medications to someone who can't afford it. It could provide counseling for three months to a newly diagnosed client trying to find their way through these new challenges they face.

For those twenty-six I rode for today, your support not only helps others live - it helps them to live well. Not well in the "big four bedroom three bath house, pool in the yard, traveling to Europe" kind of way. No, living well for them means they are given the opportunity to feel well enough most days to get outside of the house. That they can use the little bit of the disability money they might receive to rent a RedBox movie they couldn't afford to see at the theater. That they can go to the SF AIDS Foundation to get support to keep their electricity on during the one month they couldn't make ends meet with the $1,100 they get in disability. In all my years working in the HIV/AIDS field, quality of life was always a topic we discussed - and it had a very simple definition: the ability to live with a little more dignity and a little less stress.

For you 26, I made it today. Those 26 miles; each one now gifted with your names. I did it at one of my best paces too. And set a personal record on one stretch of the route; a second best on another stretch. But I didn't do it alone. But you know that, don't you? Of course you do, because you were right there with me. Today each spin of those wheels, each spoke that supported my weight, was a Labor of Love. Love for you. Love for my community. And love for knowing what we as humans can accomplish when we work together.

The Unexpected

Today I'm not writing about cycling or training. Not writing about my health. Not writing about my work or my life or my dogs. Not writing about me at all (well, not much). No, today I'm writing something unexpected. A story about a former love of mine. A story about an ex-girlfriend (see, I told you it was unexpected). A story about a beautiful woman. And about the inspiration she provides.

Twenty-two years ago, I was in college. Attending classes from 8 a.m. 'til 2  p.m., sleeping from 2:30 p.m. 'til 10:30 p.m. Working from 11 p.m. 'til 7 a.m. Due to this schedule, I obviously had no time for a social life which is why it was at work that I met her. Holly.

Holly Jo.

It was Texas. Middle names were required.

I don't remember exactly when Holly started working at the Stop N Go or how we came to be friends. But I do know we must have become friends first because she had a boyfriend when we first met. To this day, I remember that - probably because he was a total ass. One of those idiots you encounter in life that is such a douche, you never forget them. My first real memory of Holly is walking her to her door after we'd been out drinking with some friends - and after she dumped the douche. I don't remember who we'd been with earlier or even where we'd been. I don't remember pulling the car into the guest parking spot in her apartment complex. I don't even remember walking from the car to the stairs leading up to that door. My memory starts on those stairs - climbing up all twelve of them under the glow of the porch light, saying goodnight, then kissing her for the first time.

Holly Jo - the Aqua Net days.

Not only does my memory of her start at that moment; our relationship started there too. And as that relationship grew, I came to learn much about her. To a casual bystander, her life seemed pretty damned good. She was a beautiful girl. Tall. Blonde. Sparkling blue eyes. And a body... well, let's just say lust may have come before love. She came from a traditional middle-class family. Her father worked for NASA on the Apollo missions. I was in awe of him for that reason alone - you should've seen some of the memorabilia he had in their home! Her mother - hmmm, was she a housewife? Maybe a teacher? Piano instructor? Not sure exactly - but, like I said, traditional family.

But Holly was anything but traditional. During those years she was a little rebellious (okay, maybe that's pretty traditional for a young woman in her late teens). She wasn't a conformist - and although she may have looked the part, there was no head cheerleader, prom queen crap for her. She drove a muscle car. A Mercury Cougar - maybe 1967? 1969? It was fierce! Until she wrecked it and got a Datsun 280Z. Another fine piece of machinery. She partied, she smoked, she loved adventure. And I think that adventurous spirit is what made me fall in love.

And the life that surrounded her wasn't "traditional" either. Holly was adopted when she was an infant and that may have brought her to deal with the "what-if's" of her biological parents. She was also born with congenital heart disease and had her first open-heart surgeries at the age of two. Like many teens, she battled the dark issues of self-image and self-worth. In getting to know her, I learned that being blonde & beautiful & living in an "enviable" family environment wasn't always a door to popularity, happiness & success - it could also open the door to teasing, bullying, and plenty of "dumb blonde" jokes. And, trust me, Holly was far from dumb.

Those little white holes in my ears and
mouth - well let's just say after we broke
up, Holly used some thumbtacks on this
photo in some bizarre voodoo ritual.

She and I - wow, we had great times. So many memories of laughter and friends and adventures and intimacy. But, even though we were young, it was the real world, not some romantic comedy, and the bad sandwiched itself in with the good. I was late for her graduation because I was hit by a car while turning into the florist's parking lot to buy her roses. The roommates she lived with were hateful & violent toward her. There was the time I went away for a few weeks and our relationship was severely tested. More than once, I held her when she cried and let out whatever pain she held inside. And, of course, there were the weeks we didn't speak to each other after we broke up.

But the good did outweigh the bad. Almost all of my memories with her are good. Warm, humid nights on her patio, just talking. Going to the beach in Galveston and being so proud of this woman on my arm. Hanging with Jen & Joel & Sally. That trendy braided leather belt she gave me as a gift and the tiny fish tank I gave her. Making out in that Datsun. Miller High Life, Miller Lite & Miller Genuine Draft (why did we always keep all three stocked?). Having nothing to do on a Saturday so purchasing last-minute tickets to St. Louis to introduce her to my parents. The Today Sponge contraceptive - we called them Smurf Knee Pads - man, if you think the Seinfeld "Sponge" episode was funny, ask me about our little Sponge story sometime... Hilarious! The day when she was stocking the shelves at work and, while working the register, I climbed up on the counter and belted out Elton John's "Your Song" to her; off-key, of course. Then there was my mullet and her perm.

Those last two might not have been "good" but they were sure as hell funny!

See - they WERE Smurf Knee Pads!

As they say, all good things must come to an end. We did split up. After a short period of animosity, we became close friends. Then a year later I moved to the west coast and we lost touch. For you younger readers, those were not only days of mullets & perms, they were the time of 25-cent-per-minute long distance phone charges and computers that were nothing more than glorified typewriters. We hadn't been introduced to the internet and Facebook would've sounded like something from a comedic sci-fi novel to us. But years later, those two things brought us together again. On September 17, 2010, Holly accepted my friend request on Facebook. Almost two decades had passed and we had a lot of catching up to do.

Proof that perms & mullets did exist!

So we did. Endless emails. Hours on the phone. Long Skype chats. And those things are the foundation of this story. You see, that girl I once knew who endured countless "blonde" jokes, who struggled with her relationship with her parents & her relationships with men, who questioned herself time and again - well that girl was gone. Now I was coming to know a stronger woman. A woman going back to college in her late thirties to pursue her dreams of journalism. She achieved good grades and, even more, lived her dream by working as a reporter for a newspaper. She had found great love and support from her family. That rebellious girl had found her faith in God again and the peace it brought to her life. After struggling through her years as a single parent, she also found joy in her relationship with her daughter (who, by the way, was as rebellious a teen as Holly had been). This woman now saw the beauty she held inside & out; the beauty I had seen in that girl all those years ago.

More than our memories of our time together in Texas, we came to realize another bond in our adult lives. After many, many years of wonderful health, Holly nearly died from her heart problems ten years ago. More open-heart surgeries. More close calls. More fear. The loss of friends who couldn't (or wouldn't) support her in her time of need. I think that shared understanding of mortality, the value of life, and the hard lessons of false friendships deepened our renewed relationship. Her story also reminds me of the strength we all have inside. Of how we can overcome even the greatest challenges. Of how, no matter what may be overwhelming us, we can find the positive in our experience and the light of life.

Today, Holly and I are still friends. And sometimes when I'm on that bike and feel I can't push myself any harder, I think of her. And somehow - incredibly - my legs get stronger, my breathing gets easier, and a smile crosses my face as I find confidence in myself during my weakest moment. Thank you for the unexpected inspiration, beautiful. I will always love you.

Follow Holly (and cheer her on like she does for me) in her current adventures at the University of Texas, Arlington: http://uta-venturousity.blogspot.com/ and http://twitter.com/HollyJoWard