My Breast Cancer Story - Part V - The Mamma Jamma Ride 2009

(. . . You can find Part IV here)

Over 182,000 women were diagnosed with Breast Cancer in 2008 and there are over 182,000 stories that could be told. This is just one of those stories.

As it turned out, the last 3 weeks of chemo recovery passed by quickly and were NOT the worst like I was expecting.

May 14, 2009 was the Kick-Off Party for the Inaugural Mamma Jamma Bike Ride. If you remember from Part IV, this was my new goal, the event I would train for to help me regain the energy that Breast Cancer had taken away. The party was held outdoors and the evening was a perfect, cool late-spring night in Austin, TX. I mingled among the tables set up for the ten different non-profit organizations that were the beneficiaries. I listened to the Ride Director and the Honorary Ride Chair speak about what the ride would mean for patients and families dealing with this disease. Three things became evident:

1. I felt like a selfish cancer patient. I had been so self-absorbed in my own cancer journey that I hadn't thought about what it was like for others. Some were in their 20's or 30's and had young children who couldn't understand why mommy (or daddy) was sick. Some were facing the disease alone and had no one to cook meals for them or get them to treatment. Some had no medical insurance and could not afford the care they needed to save their lives ... and for some the diagnosis was grim, their cancer had been found too late. Compared to any one of these, my cancer journey had been a breeze. Every step of the way there was ALWAYS someone there for me. I felt blessed that so many people were in my life that made my cancer experience "doable".
2. There are many galas, runs, walks, etc. out there that raise money in hopes of some day finding a cure. THE MAMMA JAMMA WAS DIFFERENT, the money raised would provide much needed services and support to patients and their families. The impact is immediate by improving the lives of those newly diagnosed. The impact will be made in the future for those that have cancer cells growing out of control in their bodies but don't know it yet. It is a ride to let cancer patients know that they are not alone. In a way, the 10 unique non-profit beneficiaries were coming together to form a cooperative of support.
3. Signing up to do the ride myself would not be enough. I needed to form a team and try to encourage as many friends as I could to join me. Instead of just asking them for a donation, together our fundraising efforts could do so much more.

I left the party that night feeling as if I had been given the biggest gift ever - the gift to "pay it forward". I was determined to do what I could to raise money for and raise awareness of the Mamma Jamma Ride.

By the end of May, the "Big Guns" chemo had ended, but the Herceptin infusions would continue once every 3 weeks for the remainder of the year. Fortunately the only side effect was an occasional runny nose AND I started noticing some stubble ... my hair was growing back!!!!

I was SO ready to get back on my bike. The first ride was a little frustrating. A year prior I was able to ride a hilly 65 miles, but the hint of a small incline that day had me panting for breath. Mark and my friend Samantha rode with me and we did about 12 miles. At the end I was elated, but exhausted and I went home and took a long nap.

Samantha & I, she had voluntarily shaved her head

as a fundraiser for children with cancer.

 She was an example of hope that my hair would come back.

(Wearing a wig under a bike helmet seemed pointless to me!)

I couldn't think of any better way to convince myself that I had looked Breast Cancer straight in the eye & kicked its butt than to ride my first Century Ride for Mamma Jamma. I started looking for training programs online to see if it was possible to get ready for a 100 mile bike ride in less than 5 months - it was! With no outside job, I had the luxury of being able to ride every day. Two mornings a week Mark & I would ride before he went to work. My friend Jane would join me for long rides on Thursdays (take THAT Puny Thursdays!) and the MJ ride organizers offered free training rides for us on the weekends. I regained my strength quickly and by September, I was averaging 150 miles each week.

Fall weather in Texas can be hit or miss. The forecast on Ride Day, October 10th, called for cool temperatures and early clouds/drizzle with clearing by the afternoon. I was excited, ready, and it was a struggle to keep my emotions in check. Just before the start for the 100-milers, I found the Capital of Texas Team Survivor MJ team and posed for a pre-race photo with them (I forgot to take pictures with the camera I brought so the following are ones I have borrowed from friends):

Ride start for the Main Group

Samantha had joined my team and she and 2 of her coworkers, Keith & Andy were doing the 100 mile route with Mark & I. About 50 riders were taking on this challenge and we got a head start with the rest of the riders cheering us on. The Main Group doing shorter distances would start an hour later. The small numbers made it easier for us to ride together and enjoy the Hill Country of Texas. It was wonderful!!

One of the volunteer SAG vehicles that provided route support

About 2 1/2 hours into the ride, Mark got a flat tire. Instead of waiting for mechanical help he changed it himself. This proved to be instrumental in finishing the ride because it took him less than 5 minutes and we were on our way again.

The lunch pit stop in Joppa, TX - the half-way point

There were pit stops about every 12-15 miles where we could stop for water and food. Each one had a party atmosphere, staffed by volunteers who were cheering us on. The lunch pit stop was especially fun; there was great music, carnival games to play, and delicious food. We almost lingered there too long. As we were getting back on our bikes, a woman walked onto the road with a sign saying 100 milers needed to turn around and go back. Panic set in as I rode up to talk to her. She told me there was a cut-off time but since we were getting on our bikes she would let us go through. I told her 3 more in our group were in the bathroom and she said if they hurried she would also let them continue. I rode back to tell Samantha, and then Mark & I took off. If Mark had taken any longer to change his flat tire, we might not have been so lucky. My mind was racing: I couldn't believe it, I had trained so hard, I had told all my donors I was riding 100 miles, I couldn't let them down.

The weather matched my mood. Instead of clearing, it seemed to get colder and drearier. The woman in the road had also said there were cut-off times at all the remaining pit stops. Instead of waiting for the others, we picked up our pace. Mark had not trained as much as I did and was getting tired. He finally told me to go on without him. We had reached the hilliest part of the course and I was worried about him so I waited at the next pit stop. I didn't have to wait long but once again he told me to go on - he would wait for the others. I felt better knowing he would have someone to ride with.

My bike - "ArVi"

As much as I loved riding with my husband and my friends, I realized I needed this time alone. Yet I wasn't really alone because I could feel the presence of my mom and dad riding with me. My mom, Virginia, had passed away in 1999, and my dad, Art, had passed away a few months earlier in the middle of my chemo treatments. In preparation for the ride, I had bought a new bike and decided to name it after Dad & Mom - Arvi. Now I have them with me whenever I ride.

Beautiful Scenery

One of the many signs along the route, reminding us why we ride

With no other riders around, I was able to let all the emotions from the previous year come pouring out. I thought about the fears I had buried deep inside; fears of not being there for my daughters' weddings, not seeing grandchildren, not growing old with the love of my life - and the tears came, real tears. Up until now, most of the tears had been silent as I tried to stay strong for family and friends.

Oops, then came a hill, time to focus. More miles went by and I remembered each milestone that had come and gone the past year; the diagnosis, doctor appointments, the surgeries ... and ... oh, there was another hill to climb. I thought of the people I had met because of my cancer, fellow survivors, skilled physicians and the kind & gentle nurses in the infusion room. More tears came, and more hills. 

The feelings culminated with a one-sided conversation I had with my parents. I remember tearfully saying out loud, "Mom & Dad, I hope I've made you proud." (Isn't that what we all want?) I wasn't sure I had done enough with my life up until then. This cancer was a wake up call and by gosh I was going to step out of my complacency and do something with my life that WOULD make them proud.

I was cold & I was tired and there was another really long and steep hill ahead. Suddenly it dawned on me, you know what ... if I could make it through chemotherapy, I could make it up that hill. I realized at that moment that cancer had made me a stronger woman, and I was grateful. Then I noticed a sign that said "One mile to the next pit stop". Funny what that sign did for me, I wasn't tired any more!

A short rest refreshed me and I got a surprise call from my BFF, Glenda. She had joined my team and was doing the 46 mile route. "Where are you?", she said. It turned out she had left the pit stop a few minutes earlier. It felt like forever, but I finally caught up with her. As we rode I learned she had been talked into doing the 70 mile route, even though she had not been riding much. I had been sad that our start times were different and I wouldn't get to ride with her. Another blessing had come my way.

I called Mark and learned he and the others were about 10 minutes behind me. This was going to work into my plan. I had been disappointed to find out the actual mileage for the ride was 98.2 miles. How could I "legally" say I had ridden my first Century ride? I was familiar with the area so instead of making a right turn I went straight and rode an extra mile out and back. Shortly after I got back to the turn, Mark, Samantha, Keith & Andy came riding up. We had 5 more miles to go.

Finish Line Cheerleaders

WE DID IT!!!

Once again I could not hold back the tears. As we crossed the finish line I could see not only my team members lined up to greet us, but also our middle daughter Sarah. The adrenaline in my body made me want to keep riding further, but it was time to stop and enjoy the moment. I'll let the pictures do the talking because words are inadequate:

Most of my 2009 Mamma Jamma Team. Instead of the $500 check I was initially going to write if I rode by myself, we raised over $25,000!!

My ride bandana also went 100 miles.

Written on it were the names of the breast cancer

 men and women I was riding in honor of, and in memory of.

Getting a hug from David, the Ride Director and Kerry, the Honorary Ride Chair

Parade of the SAG wagons, the last rider was back safely.

At the end of the day there was time for reflection on loved ones lost and the

seriousness of this horrible disease. There is still so much more to be done.

Together our team of 20 raised just over $25,000. WOW! Originally I had planned to just write a check for my $500 fundraising obligation. This was enough to pay for an entire year of cancer treatment for one individual with $11,000 left over to spend on some many other things like mammograms, biopsies, bloodwork and so much more.

If you have a diagnosis of Breast Cancer, Austin, TX is a good place to be. There are groups here to help you if you need it. I have learned that many other communities are not so fortunate. To quote Martin Luther King, Jr., "I Have a Dream." My hope is that someone out their will read a post about one of the local service organizations here in Austin and decide to start a similar one in their area. My DREAM, is that every state will have their own Mamma Jamma Ride.

I don't know how my story will end, whether the cancer will ever return or not, but for now it doesn't end here. I am enjoying a life filled with wonderful family and dear friends. These loved ones are what life is all about, and I am so blessed. 

Other members of the Breast Cancer Club that have come into my life are also part of my story. These men and women continue to inspire me and I want to share their stories with you in future posts. I hope you come back to read them, and ... thanks for reading my story.

Oh, one more thing, here is the Mamma Jamma kickoff party video that first inspired me: