Things Change

Change is, even when not desired, inevitable. 

If you know me, you know that I am an avid supporter of Lance in his cycling and the work he does in the cancer arena.  Since 2002 I have volunteered with the LAF in a variety of ways, both publicly and quietly in my life.  I keep a supply of wristbands to hand out to those who need or want them, direct survivors and their families/friends/caregivers to the LAF for support and resources, have given talks on survivorship and the LAF, and so forth.    Not only has my money gone to the LAF but much of my time and energy over the years. 

If you know me, you know the inspiration and support I felt from Lance and the LAF during my cancer experience and the dark time of resultant physical, spiritual, emotional and financial fallout from that experience.  Truly I do not know where I would be if it had not been for that support.

Today Dave and I rode the Austin LiveSTRONG Challenge, Dave’s second and my fifth.  I first rode the event in 2002, following my cancer diagnosis in 2001.  Back then it was called The Ride for the Roses. 

Over the years I have ridden this event with Dave, with others by my side and on my own.

Years 2002 through 2005 were magical, inspirational, and powerful.  The logistics of the events in those days were well planned and executed.  The events themselves had spirit and substance.  The expos held on Friday and Saturday in conjunction with rider packet pick-up were vibrant, jammed-packed with vendors of various natures.  I have spent hours at expos in past years.

There have been bands at the ride start in the past, along with speakers like Bob Roll and Robin Williams (who kept those of us waiting for our stage to start absolutely in stitches).  One year Lance simply read the LAF Manifesto to the crowd of 7000+ in the early morning stillness.  Magical.

I was fortunate to have participated in the rides those years.  They were indeed special.

Change is inevitable and organizations grow and perhaps change their focus.  Unfortunately, sometimes that growth comes at the sacrifice of qualities that were at the very core of the organization. 

Dave and I both commented that this year’s expo was lackluster in comparison with those in the past.  Apparently we were not the only ones; I overhead a woman comment “They’ve really turned this into a business” as she and her party were leaving the expo hall.  Very few vendors were to be seen and those that were in evidence had little to offer.  There were only one or two booths specifically aimed to the survivorship level.  I did not notice LAF booths where one could pick up informational material; I distinctly remember picking up an LAF annual report at a previous expo.  There was nothing like this to be seen.  We were in and out in a little over half an hour. 

Hmmm….

Today’s ride attendance is reported to have been 3200.  That is less than half of the numbers from previous years; other rides were easily 7000+.

Fewer numbers, less collective energy.

Today’s event parking was a shambles.  There was no one to guide us to parking.  In the early morning darkness, we followed other cars into what turned out to be a small business parking lot.  Luckily we were able to squeeze the truck into a spot with the help and patience of the riders parked around us.  Why was no one on duty to direct parking to a big lot nearby (which we could see when it became light)?  At the previous venue there was plenty of easily accessible parking and loads of folks very expertly directing traffic.

The ride was held in Dripping Springs, south of Austin, as opposed to east of Austin starting from the Exposition Center off 290 East.  Why the change in venue?  Because Lance has a ranch in Dripping Springs?  We camped nearby; however, for folks staying in Austin it was quite a drive to the event.

This leads us to the routes.  Many people commented, including Dave (who is extremely fit) that the routes seemed poorly chosen for recreational cyclists.  This area is much more challenging with steeper elevations, cattle guards, low-water crossings, etc.  Fine if one is a kick-ass rider like Lance, but what about the rest of us that are much less accomplished riders? 

What about the riders just out of chemo that one saw in past years?  What about the kids being towed in carts, handkerchiefs or hats covering the bald heads, blankets around them to keep them cozy in the early morning chill?  What about the folks perhaps not really fit at all but riding because of a lost loved one?

The routes on this year’s ride certainly seemed to not take these people into consideration.

What a remarkable and giving act it would have been if Lance had ridden the 20 or 10-mile routes with those folks.  Sure, he rode the 90 miles in an impressive time and yes, I guess many of those on that route were the top fundraisers.  But what about the little guy on his bike with the "In Memory" sign of a mother/sister/friend?  Or the older grandmother-looking lady toodling along with a similar sign?  Can you imagine how much it would have meant to them, perhaps brought comfort to them, to have Lance cruise up and say "Good morning" or to pass a rider with a yellow "Survivor" sign on and say "Hey, way to go!"?   

Did we just miss it or was there no national anthem played beforehand?  In prior years there would be a band or a solo artist performing this.  Was there no welcome speech by Lance this year?   Perhaps we were just so far back in the start group we could not hear/understand the words being spoken.

The post-ride party area was much smaller (okay, fewer riders so I understand that) and almost claustrophobic.  I missed the open feel of prior events…the fields, the big stage were bands would be playing.  There was a stage set up but no performers, just someone touting the benefits of FRS, an energy supplement endorsed by Lance.  There did not seem to be people mingling and the vendor booths were the same as at the expo.

This LAF ride could have been any charity ride, and some of those others have been better executed, in our opinion.

There was one memory that will be with me from today’s ride, one that is characteristic of so many memories I have from the years of the Ride for the Roses.  On starting out, there was a woman on the sidelines taking photographs.  She was wearing a kerchief over her bald head, obviously a recent recipient of chemo.  Our eyes met and I gave her a thumbs-up and fist in the air in defiance of the beast we call cancer.  She smiled, nodded and returned the thumbs-up.  Strangers in passing, sisters in survivorship.  No words were exchanged between us, but we knew what we were saying to one another.  This is the spirit of the Ride for the Roses that I remember. 

Today I was feeling the loss of my beloved cousin Karen so much it was painful.  The absence of her presence in this world is at times unbearable.

To my darling Scotsman, thank you for being with me today and for understanding when the emotions from losing our Karen got the better of me during the post-ride hours. 

To my girlfriend Melanie, thank you for your text and your spirit today.  Your message of encouragement and support early this morning was what I needed.  Today was for you, too, baby.  You are an amazing, strong and beautiful woman and I am proud to call you “girlfriend.”

Change is inevitable.  Sometimes growth is at the expense of the core qualities and attributes that are shed as a result of that growth.   To me and others with whom I have visited it seems the LAF is becoming less targeted at survivorship support and more of a politically-based vehicle.  Wasn’t the original concept to support survivors living with, through and beyond cancer?  There is the opinion that the organization is spreading itself too thin these days and that the original focus has been blurred. 

It is my hope that the LAF has only gone global and that it has not “gone Hollywood.”