Monday, June 11, 2007
The AIDS/Lifecycle Ride
I was one of 2333 cyclists who signed up for the 2007 AIDS/Lifecycle Ride, which I just completed on Saturday afternoon. This year's ride brought in a record $11 Million in revenue for AIDS charities.This whole event was produced using only 12 paid employees. Over two thousand riders require a lot of logistical support, and that comes from hundreds of volunteers ... roadies, cooks, drivers, bag handlers, etc etc. In addition to their generous contributions of time and energy, each of the support team is also asked, like the riders, to find sponsors. The result is a large and well-managed event which passes an estimated 70% of its revenues along to the charities it benefits. That would be an impressive percentage for any charitable fund-raising effort, even one whose main expenses are phone calls, stamps, and envelopes. But considering that this one had to provide food, tents, trucks, buses, showers, medical assistance, port-a-potties, and other miscellaneous support for this huge bike ride, that percentage is sort of miraculous, and shows the power of volunteer energy for a cause that people sincerely believe in and which inspires their passions.
Last year's ride was 545 miles, but this year, because of a road-construction detour, 20 miles were added... and by the way, at least half of those miles were rather steep, uphill miles, added to an already-challenging climb on the first day.
Although I have been wanting to do this ride for several years, it probably wouldn't have happened this year without the initiative of my friend and coworker, Chris Kalev (aka DJ Fever). Chris came to me in November asking me if I would be interested in doing the ride. Chris knew I was a cyclist, but didn't know until then that I had already been intending to do the AIDS/Lifecycle ride someday, and in fact that was the reason for buying the pricey graphite Trek bike back in 2002. (Another honorable mention here goes to Don Goldberg, an old friend and my former college calculus professor from 20 years ago, who has done two of these rides himself. He was my first cycling friend, who helped me pick out that first road bike, and offered me his experience and advice in getting ready for the ride.)
Chris and I became tent mates for the week, and stayed together for certain parts of the ride as well. Both of us were first-time riders, and both of us would learn a lot from the experience.
The ride was challenging, but I enjoyed it. I did train for the trip -- in fact I have been planning to do it for 5 years now -- but with everything I had going on this year, I didn't find the time to train as much as I knew I should. I also changed to a new bike fairly late in the process, which was not ideal according to the advice of some of the more experienced riders I had talked with before the ride. Here's how that happened: I needed a bike I could ride when I'm in San Francisco, so in early May I went to Mike's Bikes, a cool bike shop that is just a block away from the Stormy Leather store. I had done a little calling around, and I thought I might get a Cannondale Synapse bike. Mike's had a good price on that bike, and also offered 10% off to AIDS/Lifecycle riders.
When I got to Mike's Bikes, they had the bike I wanted, in my size... and as luck would have it, they had a special-edition one that was painted with the AIDS/Lifecycle logos and colors (orange and blue). So I thought it would be cool to get that one. Then of course I had it custom fitted to me at the shop, with the help of the store manager, Zak, a very nice, helpful and knowledgeable fellow. When I took the new bike out riding in San Francisco, I found it actually feeling better than my more-expensive Trek bike. In retrospect, this was probably just because my lighter Trek bike just needed fit adjustment. But in any case, at this point I had a new road bike, it was feeling good, it was already in San Francisco where the ride was starting, and it was specially designed and painted for this ride... so I decided to go with the new bike.
The new bike was aluminum, making it a little heavier than my Trek bike, which is graphite, and I logged less than 50 miles on the new bike before taking it out on this ambitious ride. I presume these factors did contribute somewhat to the physical pains and challenges that I experienced on the ride.
I got a lot of compliments on the bike from the other riders, and of course I saw a few others who had the same official special-edition AIDS/Lifecycle bikes. As one of the sponsors of the ride, Cannondale supplied a lot of the bike maintenance support for the riders, and the Cannondale bike technicians were always happy to see me at their tent. Some of the tents were also manned by Mike's Bikes staff.
Chris didn't take the risk of switching bikes at the last minute as I did, but he did decide to ride on a mountain bike rather than the specially-designed road bikes that most participants ride, and he also did it without the benefit of the special clip-on bike shoes that most riders wear. He was wearing tennis shoes with pedal cages, which offer some of the pedaling help as clip-on bike shoes, but not as much. When he ended up struggling with his bike a bit, especially on that grueling first day with its seemingly endless uphill climb, he got a bit down on himself for not paying more attention to peoples' advice. I was suffering a bit too, having changed to a new and somewhat heavier bike at the last minute. I tried to offer some consolation to Chris (and to myself). I pointed out that, if his life has been anything like mine, he has heard great volumes of advice in his day, most of it unsolicited, and at least half of it incorrect or not applicable to his individual situation. Often it's only with some experience and hindsight that it becomes more clear which advice is really good.
As I said, my training for this ride was a little light, but I nevertheless expected I could turn in a respectable showing... and of course the charities would get the money I raised regardless of how many miles I rode. Indeed I made it through all of that first, difficult day. I handled the hills well enough, thanks to all my training in the rather mountainous Griffith Park here in Los Angeles. But the mountains combined with the 95-mile distance of that first day (the most I've ever ridden in one day) left me rather sore, with some Achilles tendon problems, and feeling rather under the weather. I may have caught a mild bug of some kind... and/or, sometimes when I overexert myself, it seems like my immune system takes a break and I get these mild flu-like symptoms.
Every night we slept in a different camp, obviously, which meant setting up and tearing down a tent, and moving our bags back and forth between the tent and the transport trucks. Those tasks were easy enough when we had the energy, but on days when we were extra-tired from riding, they felt like more difficult chores. On the days I took off, when I had more energy, I sometimes helped other riders with their tents.
I had 3 flat tires during the week, and needed to visit the mechanic tents for dérailleur problems twice. On the first day, my fatigue plus a flat tire put me just in front of the final yellow sweep van at one point... meaning that I was quite likely at the very end of the line, everyone else behind me having already been picked up for a lift. I still had about 15 miles to go at that point, and I was hurting, but seeing that banana-yellow sweep vehicle behind me was motivating. I turned on the heat, and made it the rest of the way to Santa Cruz, passing a few other riders on the way.
It was quite an experience to share with so many people... men, women, gay, straight, as young as 18 and as old as 78. I saw a lot of diverse and beautiful California terrain. I rode in the cold and the heat, in fog and bright sunshine. I have an odometer/speedometer on my bike, so I can report that I went downhill at peak speeds of 40mph (somewhat hazardous). I remember at the start of the third day, it was cold and windy, I was stiff and in pain from tendonitis, and I hadn't warmed up yet. On flat stretches I could still manage a nice, jaunty 20mph, but then I found myself faced with several uphill climbs against heartbreaking headwinds while in pain from tendonitis, and I watched my speed drop quickly from 20 down to 15, then 10, then 6, then 4, then 3... At 3mph I was moving barely fast enough to keep me from falling over, and I felt pretty physically defeated as other riders passed me by in dozens. But my mind was still active, doing grim calculations with speed and distance. "OK, even if it's only 1/2 mile up this hill, at this speed it's going to take me 10 minutes to cover this short distance... I could probably walk faster, but with these injuries, in these shoes, up this hill, pushing a bicycle, it hurts too much to walk!"
Chris and I had different strengths and weaknesses, different bikes, and different ways of approaching the ride. It didn't make sense for us to try to stay together for the whole ride. But we did ride together for most of the last day, which took us along Highway 1 on the Pacific coast from Ventura, down to Malibu, and finally to the Veterans Administration Hospital complex in West Los Angeles. At the end of the ride were thousands of cheering friends, family, staffers and riders, and then our last chance to get free snacks, Gatorade, and our commemorative T-shirts. I was pumped up enough from riding those last 62 miles that I was ready to just bike the last 10 miles home, but we still had our luggage to deal with. Chris's sister Claudia picked us up in his car with a bike rack, and we drove away.
We went north from the VA to avoid the traffic jam going toward Wilshire, and ended up taking Mulholland Drive over to Laurel Canyon. It was a beautiful drive, and Chris and I marveled at how easily the internal-combustion engine handled the hills.
My loft apartment in Los Feliz has seemed quite luxurious in the 48 hours since I got home. A queen size bed, a nice bathroom of my own, lots of power outlets, a kitchen, and two friendly cats... not to mention the bathtub, TV, computers, DVD collection, my own food, etc. It has been a pleasant place to take some quiet, restful time, which I certainly needed.
We went north from the VA to avoid the traffic jam going toward Wilshire, and ended up taking Mulholland Drive over to Laurel Canyon. It was a beautiful drive, and Chris and I marveled at how easily the internal-combustion engine handled the hills.
My loft apartment in Los Feliz has seemed quite luxurious in the 48 hours since I got home. A queen size bed, a nice bathroom of my own, lots of power outlets, a kitchen, and two friendly cats... not to mention the bathtub, TV, computers, DVD collection, my own food, etc. It has been a pleasant place to take some quiet, restful time, which I certainly needed.
