I was raised with an older sister in good old, small town Manvel, Texas. My faith is strong and my heart is tough. My family is my spine. I stand tall with their wisdom and support. My mother and father raised me with a determined mind frame. They taught me that to cry is an asset, to sweat is a must and to love is the greatest. Life has always been something I cherish, every ounce of rain and every countless ray of sunshine. As a child I enjoyed making trails in the woods and chronically making tree houses that would fall apart before the next day arrived. Poison ivy and I have agreed that we are not friends, but Mac ‘n’ Cheese and I are buds for life. One day I would love to take a trip to the moon, for Earth is such a small aspect of the universe. I am never afraid to get my hands dirty. My collection of earthworms and acorns was my pride and joy as an eight year old. At the age of six, I joined swim team and was declared a fish ever since. Every year my summers consisted of counting laps out at the city pool and popsicles in the afternoon, state meets in July, and Sundays out on the boat fishing with the family. As I grew older I experienced every sport offered at my school and fell hard for the love of water polo. Currently I am in the College of Education studying kinesiology and Sports Management. I plan to go to MORE school after I get my degree here at UT and become a PT or OT. These days my interests range from spin and yoga class, to kayaking and running, to quilting, and food! I believe if I can kayak across a river, and sew together pieces to a quilt, then I can bike across the North American continent, and, along the way, patch up a few pieces to our world.

Cancer represents the thief of life. It does not steal your purse or wallet; it steals your mother, son or best friend. It does not come with a refund or insurance policy; it comes with excruciating pain and agony. One day there will be a cure, one day ¼ of deaths wont be due to cancer. God put me on this planet for a reason; I want to make every second worth that reason. I want to contribute to that cause to see the smiling faces on the families that have found out that their loved ones have been cured. And although that day may not be today, I will be riding the journey to work up to when that one day comes.

Because I’m healthy, because I’m strong, because I’m determined, I ride for my family, my mom.

She is high-strung and energetic, yet warm. She is forty-seven years old and people still mistake her as my sister. To this day, her abs are better than mine! Eating healthy and working out are some of her top priorities. Mom is one of the least likely people you would think has cancer, but she does, it’s in her body attacking her everyday. Then again, as tough as she is, I’m pretty sure lately she is doing the attacking. My mom says, “Okay, four weeks of radiation left” and I remind her “ no mom, radiation has four more weeks of you.” I applied for Texas 4000 this last October, not under the influence mom was going to be diagnosed with breast cancer this December. Most are afraid of cancer, but my mom laughs in its face. Although lately she is tired, she has not lost her spunk and never will. She doesn’t cry and she doesn’t worry, she is as light as a rock. And I am so proud to call this woman my mother.

Only 29 years into his happy life, my Uncle Rick, my mother’s brother, died of testicular cancer. He was diagnosed in late August and shortly after passed November 2nd 1986. Once, I asked my mother what the hardest point in her life was. She responded with, “nothing is more painful then going through your brothers closet, picking out and ironing his funeral clothes, then watching him take his last breath in the hospital.” My grandfather my grandmother, and my mother slowly watched their son and brother suffer in the hospital for three months in 1986. Uncle Rick was the person in the room that made everyone laugh and was always the fun guy. He lived everyday like it was the last.

In 2005, we thought my grandpa had a bad case of the flu. After weeks of feeling ill, he went to the doctor and they took x-rays of his chest. On a Monday, my mother and grandmother sat patiently in a doctor’s office waiting for test results of a loved one but this time it was my grandmother’s husband and not her son. The results read terminal lung cancer and that my grandpa had approximately six months to live. My grandfather found this out on a Monday, and passed the following Wednesday. Papa loved to go on drives and travel. He was fun, out spoken and an incredible cook. Many miss him dearly.

Because my grandpa and uncle could not finish their journey through cancer, I want to finish this ride for those who are still capable. I ride for my Uncle Rick, and my Papa Jim. Also, my Mom, who would want to ride to Alaska next summer with us if she could.