After more than a week I think I have finally nailed down the route to the bike ride I announced last week.
I plan on leaving May 5 and arriving in D.C. on May 17 to attend Advocacy Day.
“How did it come to this?” A question I ask myself often.
At the beginning of March I received a mass email from RESOLVE regarding Advocacy Day, I skimmed it, thought “if only..”, didn’t delete it but totally forgot about it.
About a week later I got an automated email from my Google Calendar…
Yes, with all caps. I forgot to delete it.
I thought maybe I should throw myself a pity party, go buy a tub of ice cream and eat the whole thing and then curse myself for eating way too much dairy as my stomach would churn for the rest of the day and night. I was determined to do something on this day, it felt odd letting it be any normal day, to let it go by without any sort of acknowledgement beyond looking down at my empty stomach while I am in the shower and wondering what life would be like today if my pregnancy had been a normal one.
Later on that morning, I got another email, “Your order has shipped.”
* My brand new road bike was on its way. I have a good and sturdy commuter bike that I lovingly call the Woolly Mammoth but after being laughed at through my first triathlon (a story for another day) I had been riding Danny’s road bike for anything that required speed and it was time to get something that actually fit my body.
In that instance I recalled the email about Advocacy Day and thought to myself, “What if I bike there?” I immediately texted Danny to relay some of my thoughts and a week later did a test run over the course of 4 days, my body was able to stand the long term endurance needed to do 60 mile days (with energy to spare) and this plan was born.
It all feels surreal yet incredibly energizing. This is the type of fearlessness that I possessed a long time ago that had cowed me into years of suffering in silence about our dreams and our grief.
Our loss rattled me to my core. While this ride feels energizing it also feels humbling. Humbling, because what I am doing is an outward process of the bereavement I have been trying to contain in myself for so long.
Click here for the Route Details.