Hi all,
Please send thoughts, prayers, hope, and love to Steve Damm and his family. We are riding for Steve, who is battling a really rough brain tumor. Unfortunately, things have gotten worse lately. The strength and perseverance the Damm family has displayed throughout what would be a completely soul-crushing experience for many others is pretty incredible, and they could sure use the thoughts of others during this especially trying time.
To read about Steve and his family, check out their blog: http://checkonsteve.blogspot.com/
If you'd like to help make sure future families don't have to go through what the Damms are, please consider donating: http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike
Also if you live in the Dallas area and would like to help out the Damm family (by providing a meal or otherwise helping out), you can sign up here: http://www.lotsahelpinghands.com/c/602198/login/?logout
As always, if there is anyone you'd like us to ride in honor or memory of, please let us know.
Be well,
Arik and Mia
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Un Lungo Giro in Bicicletta (A Long Bike Ride, Italian-Style)
This past weekend, Arik and I ventured an hour south of Dallas to tackle the Tour d'Italia in Italy, Texas. The ride started at Italy High School, and thousands of bikers milled about before the start. Those in clip-in bike shoes hobbled awkwardly in the parking lots like baby birds, and I don't know that we've ever seen so many lycra-clad, tanned, large calved people in our lives.
We rolled down Main Street and soon were in the hills of Ellis County. There were a ton of other bikers (the organizers estimated about 2000) but we rarely felt crowded. As we moseyed along and bikers passed us, they would call out a "good morning!" or "how y'all doing?" before they pedaled off. One biker pulled a wagon along behind him that held a boombox and played some loud, funky tunes.
Arik 10 miles in wearing the Livestrong shirt we'll wear on our tour
There were rest stops every 10 miles or so, stocked with plums, peaches, bananas, oreos, pretzels and gatorade, though not, as one biker passing us had promised, with margarita machines. Then again she had a mohawk made of feathers glued to the top of her helmet so perhaps she wasn't totally trustworthy.
Mia at one of the rest stops
Even without the margaritas, the first 25 miles were really enjoyable. The sun was out but not too hot, there were a lot of other bikers around, and even though we rode into a headwind just about the entire time, Arik and I felt good physically. Then about halfway through the ride (we planned to do the longest, 63 mile, route) Arik's quads started cramping. Our pace slowed considerably, the sun beat down on us mercilessly as the clock crept toward noon, and Arik grimaced as he struggled up what felt like endless hills. Still, Arik soldiered on, and felt good at each rest stop.
We finally passed the point of no return: where the 40 and 50 mile routes split off and the 63 mile route continued on. We didn't even ask each other if we'd keep going- we just rode straight through in somewhat grim silence. At this point we hadn't seen another rider in at least 30 minutes and SAG vehicles started following us closely, ready to pick us up if we decided we couldn't make it.
At the 40 mile mark, after an especially trying strip of road for Arik's quads, we made it to the second to last rest stop. The people manning it cheered for us, gave us cold paper towels to cool ourselves off with, and informed us that we were the last people coming through. They couldn't believe we weren't on road bikes and asked if we were sure we wanted to keep going, but after we told them about our tour they realized how important making it all the way was to us.
Mia in happier times, before Arik was hurtin'
Refueled and recooled, we set off for the final 23 mile stretch. 7 miles in, with the temperature close to 100 degrees and the hills coming one after another, Arik said he had to stop. He was obviously in pain, and when he got off the bike he almost fell down because he couldn't straighten out his legs. We tried stretching and rubbing them but realized he wouldn't (and shouldn't) get back on the bike. We got a little freaked out when we couldn't find a phone number for the SAG units, but fortunately a guy came by after about 5 minutes and asked if we needed help. He radioed a pickup truck, and a large, jolly fellow loaded up our bikes and ferryed us home. He was simple and talkative and friendly- the kind of person I don't think you could find anywhere but Texas- and he regaled us with stories of chasing storms as an amateur radioman. We passed about 10 other riders still on the course before he dropped us off at the high school.
Arik was bummed we didn't make it all the way, but I couldn't believe he'd ridden over 15 miles on cramping quads. And 47 miles total, on a steamy, sunny Texas day, ain't too shabby at all!
Be well,
Arik and Mia
http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike
We rolled down Main Street and soon were in the hills of Ellis County. There were a ton of other bikers (the organizers estimated about 2000) but we rarely felt crowded. As we moseyed along and bikers passed us, they would call out a "good morning!" or "how y'all doing?" before they pedaled off. One biker pulled a wagon along behind him that held a boombox and played some loud, funky tunes.
Arik 10 miles in wearing the Livestrong shirt we'll wear on our tourThere were rest stops every 10 miles or so, stocked with plums, peaches, bananas, oreos, pretzels and gatorade, though not, as one biker passing us had promised, with margarita machines. Then again she had a mohawk made of feathers glued to the top of her helmet so perhaps she wasn't totally trustworthy.
Mia at one of the rest stopsEven without the margaritas, the first 25 miles were really enjoyable. The sun was out but not too hot, there were a lot of other bikers around, and even though we rode into a headwind just about the entire time, Arik and I felt good physically. Then about halfway through the ride (we planned to do the longest, 63 mile, route) Arik's quads started cramping. Our pace slowed considerably, the sun beat down on us mercilessly as the clock crept toward noon, and Arik grimaced as he struggled up what felt like endless hills. Still, Arik soldiered on, and felt good at each rest stop.
We finally passed the point of no return: where the 40 and 50 mile routes split off and the 63 mile route continued on. We didn't even ask each other if we'd keep going- we just rode straight through in somewhat grim silence. At this point we hadn't seen another rider in at least 30 minutes and SAG vehicles started following us closely, ready to pick us up if we decided we couldn't make it.
At the 40 mile mark, after an especially trying strip of road for Arik's quads, we made it to the second to last rest stop. The people manning it cheered for us, gave us cold paper towels to cool ourselves off with, and informed us that we were the last people coming through. They couldn't believe we weren't on road bikes and asked if we were sure we wanted to keep going, but after we told them about our tour they realized how important making it all the way was to us.
Mia in happier times, before Arik was hurtin'Refueled and recooled, we set off for the final 23 mile stretch. 7 miles in, with the temperature close to 100 degrees and the hills coming one after another, Arik said he had to stop. He was obviously in pain, and when he got off the bike he almost fell down because he couldn't straighten out his legs. We tried stretching and rubbing them but realized he wouldn't (and shouldn't) get back on the bike. We got a little freaked out when we couldn't find a phone number for the SAG units, but fortunately a guy came by after about 5 minutes and asked if we needed help. He radioed a pickup truck, and a large, jolly fellow loaded up our bikes and ferryed us home. He was simple and talkative and friendly- the kind of person I don't think you could find anywhere but Texas- and he regaled us with stories of chasing storms as an amateur radioman. We passed about 10 other riders still on the course before he dropped us off at the high school.
Arik was bummed we didn't make it all the way, but I couldn't believe he'd ridden over 15 miles on cramping quads. And 47 miles total, on a steamy, sunny Texas day, ain't too shabby at all!
Be well,
Arik and Mia
http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike
Sunday, June 7, 2009
An Unintentional Hiatus
Despite our best intentions to get seriously biking this week, my hard-headedness derailed our plans. Ignoring Arik's friendly reminders about wearing flip flops during activities, I soldiered on and played soccer sans real shoes. After a couple of nice punts in my sister's backyard, I felt a sharp pain in my foot, looked down, cringed, and hobbled over to Dr. Dad, who luckily was nearby spectating. I burst a blood vessel in my foot and was instructed to "get inside, get ice on it, and get it elevated or your whole foot's gonna explode." Thanks for helping me not freak out pops! I ended up laying on my sis's couch for about 3 hours with a throbbing foot and a nice dose of humility. Dad told me I couldn't bike again for at least a week, and today marks the end of that week. And the worst part was having to tell Arik he was right! :D We'll be back in the saddle soon.
Be well,
Arik and Mia
http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike
Be well,
Arik and Mia
http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots2009/ariknmiabike
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