My ride dedication on Lincoln City, Oregon to Longview, Washington

Throughout the course of the last 2 semesters of preparation of the ride, Texas 4000 was the SUBJECT of my thinking, planning, and training. As the days of preparation slipped by, Texas 4000 transformed into something more active, requiring more body, mind and spirit.

Now Texas 4000 is a VERB.

to fight through gusting headwinds, to turn the stranger into the friend, to recast the despare of cancer into a tool of hope, to play with sock puppets on the shoulder of the highway to distract from a teammates pain, to cut up 4 day old bagels into 1/4 pieces and slathering peanut butter and calling it pizza in order not to waste food, to dance with your team at a rest stop, as if the rest of the world were not watching, to search for objects on the side of the road for gift giving opportunities,to condense your life altering summer into a 10 second donation pitch, to call home the place where ever your 2 X 1 X 1 duffel bag hits the ground, to be waken up at 4 AM and rise to pack your bag knowing that 24 other people rely on you, to think 3 steps a head, to leave a pace line to pass gas... or not, to celebrate the lives of those lost to cancer--not just their physical hardships, to find common ground with those who don't think, look, or sound like you, to look into the lives of others with empathy instead of judgement, to discover that your teammates are vastely more complex than you first assumed,

to understand that cancer is not just the rapid and uncontrolled division of cells, it is the destruction of families, the cause of endless tears, the maker of childless couples and orphaned children.

And that every presentation, every raised dollar, every peddle stroke, every conversation on the side of the road, every hug, every replaced tire tube, ever pedal stroke up the steepest hill, every smiled and tear shared among teammates, combats the hideous monster we call cancer.