Experience the Event - 2004

Roman's Journal

Day 6

I’ve begun feeling immensely emotional, like many other riders. Today marks the last full day and night we will spend together as the constituents of AIDS/LifeCycle 3, 2004. All the new friends, the fundraising, the riding, the camping, the education, the cause all comes to its peak tomorrow at 5pm in Dodger Stadium ... it’s sort of like the anticipation of college graduation, the intense overwhelming feeling of greatness is now upon us.

Today we completed mile 503, with 88 miles to ride into LA tomorrow. Unlike any other day, today we spent a significantly higher percentage of time on major freeways. Riding on freeways is not only dangerous, it takes complete focus on the road in front of you, the bikers around you, the cars, trucks and big-rigs alongside you. In addition this was our sixth straight day of riding an average of 84 miles a day, I’m completely exhausted. At the same time I’m sitting in the clouds with excitement.

The highpoint of the day would definitely be Santa Barbara and the kind people in the area. We had random supporters all along the route today. We had a warm greeting as we passed through from the time we left camp to the time we arrived in Ventura. Families, surfers, men, women and children shouted from curbsides, “Thank You”, “God Bless You”, “you can do it”, “you're almost there" ... it was refreshing and gave us a boost. I waved back and thanked them for their kindness.

We rode along Santa Barbara’s main beach and marina. Amazing picturesque views and clean streets made for a great ride alongside the white sandy beach. Every year the city organizes a stop for us riders called Paradise Pit. It is an amazing oasis, a gift of appreciation, solidarity, and support. Ice cream, candy, fruit, soda pop, and pastries all in abundance. This has become a tradition for the ride and a much anticipated stop on the route.

Periodically throughout the day, I thought of my brother. I pictured him beautiful as ever, dressed in white and running towards me as I pedaled towards him. I know it sounds cooky, but the vision was awesome and I invited the thought and emotion in every time. I thought of him as he used to be at Christmas and other holidays. He was overly generous and would give all that he had. He was the type of person who would give and share to the last drop. He would do this without thinking and without question, just the way he was. We lived together in our adult lives for a period of time and we always used to get his favorite food ... pizza, with Canadian Bacon, pineapple and jalapenos. And if it wasn’t pizza, it was Chinese food, sweet and sour pork, chow mien for fried rice for sure, my favorites too ;-)

My brother loved me immensely and protected me vehemently. He made it a point for people to know that I was his little brother and encouraged me in everything that I did. With that in mind I began thinking if what I was doing in my life, was it in fact what I should be doing. Am I in the right career, am I making the right choices, and am I evolving and growing in the direction that will make me happy. If not, am I working to make changes where they need to be made. to get me on the path I need to be on? The questions continued to circulate through my mind and I appreciated the challenge in thinking about my direction. In some way, it seems like my brother is still watching out for me, still provoking thought, provoking change, and providing direction.

Tonight after arriving in camp, AIDS/LifeCycle held a silent candlelight vigil beachside. It was highly emotional, yet peaceful and full of grace. We thought amongst ourselves, accepted the things we cannot change, gave thanks for things we can change, and paused our lives for a few minutes to remember those loved ones who have shaped us, loved us, and taught us how to be the people that we have become. I weeped.

This ride has humbled me, has given me clarity ... maybe not on all things, but it has forged me in the right direction. This ride is absolutely not the end-all-be-all, but it an unforgettable experience even the 3rd time around. We as people, as a community must offer goodness, must offer a hand, must contribute to the continuous evolution of humanity. I know by the end of tomorrow I will have accomplished something amazing, but I am not alone in this amazement. The opportunity is there for us all to help where help is needed and to love where love is needed. I am thankful for this amazing journey and what it has brought to my life. I look forward to seeing my Mom and sister tomorrow at closing ceremonies, as well as my great friends Amy G, Kris and Mike. It will be overwhelmingly emotional, but I invite those emotions and will celebrate with tears.

Day 5

So last night, we got one of the best surprises … Tracy Chapman, who is actually riding this year, gave a live concert for us. It was amazing … I wish there were more people like her making these journeys and contributions, as they do make a difference. She shared some words, and in her own gentle yet powerful way, made us all feel a part of what she was feeling, and the emotions that brought her to the ride. We were all overwhelmed and the soft melodies rang across the park. It was a good night.

Today was the shortest day of the ride, we had 43 miles of very hilly terrain. With only 43 miles to ride, we had more time to interact, communicate, laugh, and enjoy each other. Thus the day started out much slower than the usual 5am; I enjoyed every additional minute of sleep up to 6am. Mornings are the worst part of the day from my perspective. I suppose if I liked to camp, wake up out of a tent and sleeping bag at 5am, it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I just need more practice, but essentially it takes roughly an hour to change into my biking clothes, walk to the mobile washing facilities, brush my teeth, wash my face, get breakfast, pack my bags, and roll up the tent. I have gotten better at the process over the last few days, but waking up Monday morning was like waking up in the middle a horror movie in which I was about to be murdered. But who’s complaining right? There are much much worse things, so I turn that frown upside down and I ride.

So today all I could think about was community. This ride an experience like no other. Perhaps I am naive in my travels, but this community is absolutely unique. This AIDS/LifeCycle represents people from 39 states and 5 countries, of all ages and races. There are first-time riders, veteran riders, teams, hundreds of volunteers, and paid employees, who are all working together while simultaneously moving across California from city to city. There are behind-the-scene logistics teams, medical teams, bike tech teams, a webcast and media team, there are on the road support teams who monitor riders along the route, there are pit stop teams whose #1 job is to keep riders energized with carbohydrates and hydrated with water and electrolytes. I’m sure I’m not even scratching the surface of understanding the infrastructure of this ride.

What became apparent today was not the all the logistics per se; I have been amazed by the organization of this ride from Day 1. More so, what became clear was the energy, the love, and the commitment of all the people. Many of these people have begun a life-long journey to fight this disease, joining in with many and many who have already made that commitment. People who have not done the ride twice or three times like myself, but people who have rode in 5, 10, 15, 20 rides. I overheard someone saying this was their 30th ride in various cities across the US and Canada. People who hold training rides for new riders every year to strengthen their riding skills, to build and foster community, and to bring love to this event ... all on a volunteer basis. People who’s passion runs so high that they convince others around them to join in on the magic, spirit, and the humanity of this journey.

Day 4

Turning point … It was a day as long as it was great. Another century or close to it -- we chalked up another 99 miles. Today was a day of overwhelming joy for me. So I will be the first to admit, I’m not really a cyclist … geez I don’t even pretend to be one … and if my friends would hear me say that, they would all yell simultaneously, “You can say that again” ”I haven’t even seen him ride a bike” “Does he even have a bike?”… blah blah blah. They love me, but they are right, I definitely didn’t get enough training in.

So needless to say, this ride isn’t a walk in the park for me. AND if I hear one more person say, “Oh, it’s an EASY day,” I may just strangle myself on the spot. I have to be honest as this is what this journal is about -- it took everything in me not to pull off the route at one of the many wineries along the route today … rows and rows and rows of beautiful vineyards … it was early … they probably weren’t up serving wine for breakfast. Just a thought ;-)

Although the day was long, the vibe and energy of the ride certainly hit a turning point. People on the ride have always been super cool, but today everyone was just so cheerful and upbeat despite the EVIL TWINS. And they are evil. Yesterday was “Quadbuster” which for the most part was the most dreadful point of the ride. The Evil Twins are essentially about three-fourths as steep and long as Quadbuster, but Twins; that would be double the pain <puke>. Two back-to-back hills … but again, these riders are incredible. The energy and strength come from within each of us as we pedal, breathe, pedal, breathe, <puke>, pedal, breathe, pedal, breathe until we finally arrive at the beautiful green oasis at the top of the hill. Well that’s what it feels like when I see the other riders cheering at the top on hill.

So there I was before I knew it, atop the Evil Twins, which also marks the halfway point to LA. I was ecstatic as were most of the riders. Day 4 also marks the day we get back to the coast after two days inland riding through California farmland, so it was not uncommon to see bicycles parked at Starbucks, McDonalds, pizzerias, and bakeries … all the staples (addictions) of our everyday life. It was a nice feeling as we passed through Cayucos, San Luis Obispo, Morro Bay, and Pismo Beach, finally arriving in Santa Maria. Pismo Beach is a sentimental place, as it was one of the last family weekends we spent with my brother Jessie.

It was the 4 th of July, and my Mom’s birthday, a holiday we have historically spent together. It was a special time as a few of my aunts, uncles, and cousins were along. We all booked rooms at the same hotel, sunbathed and shopped by day, and spent quality time together doing a lot of nothing by night. The night of the 4 th came and we all took to the beach wrapped in sweaters and blankets. Many families like ours were out on the beach awaiting the spectacular fireworks display, all cuddled together like newborn calves going in for a feeding. We are a close family with lots of hugs and kisses, so we cherished these opportunities as we still do.

Anyhow, it was a special time and as I gloss through pictures of that weekend I am grateful for that experience, for that time, and for the love. It is not easy to get through to seeing the love, when one of your own is gone. It is extremely easy to fall into bitterness and hate, so so easy. It absolutely takes an overwhelming power to accept death as it comes, to be thankful for life, and to appreciate the time in between life and death. I write to remind myself! Today I thought about not knowing when the last time, is actually the last time. When you wave to someone, when you hug them, when you tell them you love them; that it is the last time. I know, it seems morbid … but I’m not a morbid person. I like to think I’m more of a loving person, and I want love to the fullest. But how to love to the fullest??? How to give and receive love as if it were the last time … Something I will think more about.

I must thank my buddy Tom for helping pick out a new Trek road bike that I was fortunate enough to purchase for the ride. It seems easier on my butt … although it is still very very sore. I remember last time that it was my butt that I wanted to fall off and not my legs…or maybe it is the Thermarest sleeping pad that Boris and Juliet purchased for me. Maybe it was both … I’m thankful either way.

One last thing -- I’ve gotten many emails, text messages, and phone messages. Some humorous, some encouraging, all supportive. I got a note from a man in Paso Robles, a man I have not met. I hope he knows how much this ride is about him, about hope, about faith, and about love. When I’m in need and when I feel overwhelmed by the realities of this world, I think and pray. I will think and pray for his peace tonight.

Day 3

I remember hearing someone say, “oh today is an easy day.” I suppose for a person who thoroughly trained, it may have been easy. But any day with nearly 80 miles to cover can’t be good in my perspective. Then add in the tallest hill of the ride, called “Quadbuster.” This hill goes from 0 to over 1500 feet in just over a mile. In a car you may not even notice, but for a less-than-average cyclist ... this is nearly death. Note to self: PLEASE TRAIN MORE NEXT YEAR!

The day began with the hideous reality of WET bike shorts. Not sure there are many things worse than putting on wet clothes ... well there is. Putting them on at 6am in the morning. Uhhggggggg ... I wasn’t having one of my brightest days when I forgot to bring my shorts into the tent, and left them hanging where I had washed them the evening before. So I had to suck it up ... and I hated every minute of it. Note to self: Bring more than one pair of bike shorts and clothespins to hang them after washing. More importantly REMEMBER TO BRING THEM into the tent before lying down and passing out.

So the day began much like the day ended yesterday. More broccoli, some cauliflower, and green lettuce-like stuff. Not sure what it was, but definitely lettuce family. After leaving the King City area, the landscape change relatively quickly as we moved south and seaward. The little agricultural communities changed to beautiful dry countryside, horses, cattle, and -- to my delight -- vineyards. Orchards and orchards of grapes. Passing by Fetzer and other well-known wine houses wasn’t easy. But again ... note to self ... NO DRINKING ALCOHOL on the ride.

I moved along today, slowly up Quadbuster, into the great town of Bradley for lunch, then out to San Miguel, and finally arriving in Paso Robles. This ride isn’t an easy journey for any of the cyclists, but is this possible for anyone? Absolutely! Everyone has to go over Quadbuster … some stopped every two feet, rested, then started again. Some walked their bikes up, some like me pushed and pushed until almost puking before reaching the cheering section at the peak, while others rode back downhill only to do it again.

There are many small details to this event -- clothespins, cycle training, camp gear, fundraising, bike safety -- but anyone can do this ride. All it takes is courage ... After taking Quadbuster today, literally praying on every available breath, and thinking of my brother, I got over Quadbuster as did every other rider making it into camp tonight. Everyone has their own drive and determination ... and it is different for everyone. The people on this ride are finding it within themselves to do something they absolutely did not think they could do. The energy of this ride is incredible ... tomorrow we will reach the halfway point, and I'm looking forward to that milestone.

Day 2

Today was definitely better than yesterday. I began the day with a sore knee. Seems like I may have put too much pressure on it from all the hills and climbs of the northern coast. While Pescadero, Half Moon Bay, San Gregorio, Pebble Beach and Santa Cruz have lustrous views and amazing drop-backs, riding along the coast is quite a challenge. Thus, the extra strain created an uncomfortable ride. And that anxiety was with me as I departed camp at 6:45am.

Despite the icy hot rub and heat patches, I rode off feeling the same discomfort as the day prior. While this ride is no doubt extremely physical, it is just as mental. “Can I do this?” “If this pain gets worse I may have to stop.” “What if I can’t finish the ride?” And numerous other thoughts managed themselves into my psyche between pedal rotations. But today was a good day.

I was awakened by talking and loud movement. Most of the riders began gearing up for the day’s ride at 5:15; I on the other hand could have slept through the entire day. But instead, I arose from my sealed-tight aqua-colored Coleman sleeping bag at exactly 6:00am. So I get myself together and head off to brush my teeth with one eye closed. That’s pretty much how the day started.

I grabbed some quick breakfast and a cup of coffee and was off. Actually, one other important thing I want to remember … I had never previously used riding lubricant … also known as butt balm, butt butter, and a few other terms I won’t put on paper. Needless to say I was like a well-oiled machine today. I asked where do you put it … and some women yelled, “Where do you think??? Put it where it hurts.”

I should have dived headfirst into the center of the 12 x 24 inch plastic container, but at least I did take her advice and put some where it hurt. I’m not sure how well it worked, cause I’m still in pain and very sore in the buttocks area. I guess it was worth it just knowing it could have been worse. But today was about so much more than a sore knee and butt butter.

As we continued our ride today down the northern coast and then inland to King City, there was much to be marveled. We got to see firsthand the tough and arduous day of a field worker: A very uncelebrated, mostly unnoticed, and usually un-appreciated member of our society. These are the people that are actually bent over for 8 hours or more picking fruits and vegetables. As for today, we rode by fields of workers picking strawberries, cutting and simultaneously packing lettuce.

Harvesting artichokes is quite the chore. Artichokes grow directly in the center of big bushes. It is one big plant, but the actual artichokes grow on long stems in between. These stems are cut whenever the individual artichoke is ripe, thus harvesting isn’t as easy as one might think. I guess my point is, there is an entire labor force which manually harvests the fruits and vegetables we eat. I know this isn’t rocket science, but definitely taken for granted.

As the day continued on field after field, I began to think about the things I take for granted. The people I have not appreciated, and even If I do appreciate them, do they know I appreciate them? Have I told them? Should I assume they know? How do I feel when people tell me they are thankful of something I have done? How do I feel when they don’t tell me? Why is being appreciated important? What kind of a person do I want to be? And the questions in my mind continued.

As I reached the homestretch for the day, roughly around mile 90, I thought about how many opportunities I have missed. Do Rawlins, Desi, Annette, and Allen know what they bring to my life? How much they have helped be grow as a person? Do the three beautiful women, Lisa, Jessica and my Mom know what they mean to me? Do my professors know I appreciate what they teach me? So many things I am thankful for but haven’t verbalized. So many things I take for granted. Just something to keep on top of my mind. I think I’m a busy person, we all are to some degree I suppose. But do we need to pull ourselves out every now and then for clarity’s sake? A reality check? I believe so. I want to be better, smarter, I want to appreciate. I will appreciate more.

Today was a good day. Tomorrow will be better.

Day 1

Sleep sleep and more sleep … that’s what I could have used more of. The anxiety, fear, and joy of hitting the road is finally upon me. I just sent out a note to all my supporters -- a few of whom I have never met -- my friends, and my family. This cause goes deep and people are overwhelmed by the reality of AIDS, the many faces it has affected. It’s not at all unusual these days to know someone who is HIV positive or no longer with us. A friend a of friend, a sister-in-law’s father, your daughter’s best friend … but when I tell people my brother died of AIDS, the reality is much more intense.

When I tell them he was my age, 32, healthy and strong in appearance, they are taken back. They want to know what he was like, how he was infected, and how he passed. But unlike many people who suffer dreadful ailments and long, drawn-out painful sickness, my brother was fortunate … if you can see any fortune in his situation that is. He did get sick once, and he was in the hospital for two months, my mother staying with him every night he was there. He was pretty sick, but not with physical pain. The emotional pain did weigh heavily on all of us as it would any close family. He pulled through, was released from the hospital and within no time was back to the usual, fast, witty, humorous person he enjoyed being. This is the face my supporters have come to know.

Today, as I thanked my supporters, I did it out of sheer, unconditional joy. Joy because there are people out there who see the importance, the reality, and the face of HIV/AIDS. Their contributions, aside from the amount, encourage me, energize me, and put a smile on my face today. They collectively brought in over $5000. This morning at 6am I was sent off on my journey by my buddies Kris and Amy, guys from my baseball team Robert, Ritchie, Pete, Brian, Steve and Hot Stuff Mike. I was overwhelmed that they came to see me off, more than I would have asked.

So as I pushed through 20, 40, 60, 80 miles I thought most about my supporters. I thought of how blessed I am to be a part of such a great community and to have the special relationships I have. I am truly grateful. Tomorrow is a new day, a day of challenge, over 100 miles to King City . A day of opportunity, a day for success.

Why I Ride

I remember graduating from high school in 1989 knowing little about HIV/AIDS, which is not so surprising for someone who grew up in a rural Central California town of 30,000.  HIV/AIDS was disguised as a gay disease -- taboo for most city officials to even acknowledge as a pandemic in its earliest infancy.  Current affairs or health classes were devoid of any curriculum to educate about AIDS or openly discuss the disease.

Since then, HIV/AIDS has educated us all through experience.  It has touched our hearts and souls in so many ways.  This disease blindly affects (or infects) people across all cultures and socio-economic backgrounds -- coming into our homes to reach our mothers, fathers, siblings, and children.  In dealing with this disease, we've asked questions of "how?" and "why?" while crying over caskets, praying to God, and learning to live with the loss.  This is where I am now ... this is where I've been ... and this is where I want to be.

So I ride.

AIDS/LifeCycle gives me hope, peace, and the inner strength to celebrate the brother I lost to AIDS.   This ride symbolizes my love for Jessie, my mentor, protector, and best friend.

I am committed not only to my infected friends but to the entire community still living with this disease.  This ride is a testament to the courage and determination of our human spirit.  HIV/AIDS will be defeated and become a part of the history we teach in future classrooms across the world -- until then, this community will fight, ride, and love.

With deepest gratitude, I am thankful for the amazing network of friends and family who I share this experience with.  The people who support this ride with their hard-earned monetary donations and their emotional support.  We the riders are not on this ride alone, but share in this triumphant journey with you all.  So I ride!