At one point when I was younger, I can remember being able to ride my bike the length of our block with no hands. You never forget how to ride a bike, but I recently found out the hard way that you certainly are capable of losing the expertise and courage to do simple tricks.

I was born in Cypress, Texas, a suburb of greater Houston, in September of 1987 to Tim and Kristina Waldrop. Within my first year of middle school, my father took a job offer here in Austin. After establishing a solid middle school crew in Cypress, I was very reluctant to an uprooting; however, I have grown to love Austin and without a doubt, I’m proud to call it home.

I tried my hand in many sports when I was younger – none of which I was particularly good – and after exhausting many resources and father’s patience, I turned to music. Throughout middle school, high school and my first year here at the University of Texas, I played bassoon. My high school band program offered a very a nurturing environment and I was truly blessed to be a part of such a unified organization. With the help of inspirational directors and the unending support of my family I continually made great strides in my playing abilities, so much so that I entered the University of Texas as a bassoon performance major. My freshman year I had every intention of figuring out a way to combine my love for science and my love for music, but after completing a summer biology course after my first year, I knew that science was where I belonged.

I am currently a senior pursuing a degree in Human Biology. My mother, father and sister, Liz, live less than 20 minutes away from campus in a suburb of Austin called Cedar Park. While most might consider this both a blessing and a curse, I wouldn’t have it any other way (although after the completion of my undergraduate degree I plan on attending an out-of-state graduate school to get a taste of what’s beyond the borders of Texas).

I ride for my mother.

My freshman year of high school, my mom was diagnosed with pseudomyxoma peritonei, a rare cancer associated with the appendix. Several months prior to her diagnosis, doctors were unable to make out what was wrong with her and a few even believed that she was just suffering from a severe bladder infection, yet every sign and symptom pointed elsewhere. It wasn’t until about a month after my mom’s abdomen had distended an excessive amount that doctors and surgeons decided it best to operate and examine the cause of such unrelenting pain.

When my mother was first diagnosed, I truly did not understand the weight of such a disease and the burden that it places upon family and friends. At that point I hadn’t really recognized that cancer affects everyone in some form or fashion. With time, I discovered that I’m not the only one. Every one knows someone who has been affected by this disease.

Today, my mom is in her sixth year of treatment. With three surgeries behind her and chemotherapy aiding her presently, she truly does seize each and every day. Her courage and fight never cease to amaze me and through Texas 4000 I’m hoping to put up a fight for her and others who have been affected by cancer.

I ride for my mom.

I ride to educate people on the importance of prevention and especially early detection.

I ride to spread awareness on rare cancers that sometimes go unnoticed.

I ride to fight.