Skip to main content

Thankful: Fighting the Good Fight

I tried back in September to post about the annual Bike MS ride that I've been a part of in one way or another for the past 8 years, but it was too hard.  This year ended up being our last as Team Erin's Fight and to say that it's emotional is an understatement.  

For those of you who don't know, Erin is my best friend.  It's like God put us both on the Earth and said, "Those two?  Well, they're just gonna have to find each other and the rest will be history."  And we did and it is and I had no idea how much that girl would affect my entire life.  She's family, y'all.  So, when I discovered very early on that she had multiple sclerosis and that the bike ride I wanted to do raised funds and awareness to a debilitating disease, I was hooked.  How easy is that?!  Ride a bike, raise some money and tell everyone I know about the disease that affects my bestie every day.  Game on.  




We've participated in this weekend long event every September for 8 years and it has become a part of our lives.  A weekend that I look forward to every year.  There is a camaraderie like none other at this event and I'm blessed to ride with some amazing people.  I jokingly say that the bike weekend is like a family reunion....we laugh, we eat, we drink, we ride and someone usually cries (that's typically me).  Together, we've seen and done some pretty amazing things over the years including completing our FIRST century ride together.  I've met some incredibly inspiring, funny, stand-up people who I'm fairly confident I wouldn't have met otherwise.  And I've had to mourn the loss of one of the best men and cycling buddies around.  

When I found out just a couple of days before we were to embark on my 8th year of this ride that Erin's Fight was being retired, I found myself bawling uncontrollably.  I cried for the loss of something built by friends and family and maintained by a faith that we would find a cure for this thing.  I cried because this is 1 of 2 years that I decided to volunteer and not ride and I wasn't going to be ON. MY. BIKE for the last ride?!  I cried because I feared that I would lose those friendships found on 2 wheels.  I cried for my friends who so unselfishly had poured their lives into running this team and had the courage to say that it was just too much.

So, the event went on as it always had with just a little extra touch of nostalgia.  Team Erin's Fight crossed the finish line that Sunday afternoon more beautifully than it ever had before:  with a slow-moving peloton of orange-clad cyclists that rode as a united front to honor Erin.

Our team will be merging with another team for next year's ride and while the future of the official "Erin's Fight" team is uncertain, I can tell you this:  I will not give up fighting and I will not forget WHY I do that ride.  I'll sure miss that team and wearing that big orange flower, buy will forever be grateful for it's time in my life. Things may be different, but my goal will always be the same. 


"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."
-- 2 Timothy 4:7 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Goodbye.

 “I don’t know if I should congratulate you or console you.” - Craig “How about both?” - Me This was a conversation in our kitchen earlier this week. After a year and a half of weekly therapy, I had my last session with my therapist Tuesday. Not because I was over it or because it wasn’t working or because he retired. Nope. Because we got to a place where we could both say I’ve got the tools I need to move on. I have to say that there is no timeline for therapy and every situation is unique. I moved on from intensive therapy with my therapist because that it was worked for ME. I am certainly no expert and I have a feeling this isn’t the end of my therapy forever, but I do know that my experience with the right person allowed me to heal in ways I literally never thought possible. And it gave me the experience of a healthy “goodbye”. I was never prepared for that, so when we set an end date (not-so-coincidentally my Nanna’s birthday), it was hard to process. No one talks about

It's a Funny Feeling

Let's be honest, I've been riding my bike more this year than the last 3 years COMBINED. While that's sad for the last couple of summers, it's great for this one. And this girl.  Thanks to some riding buddies who are calm and patient, I've been able to get out and ride more in the city whereas before even the thought of riding in Buckhead scared the living daylights out of me. I've encouraged myself when I really, REALLY don't want to ride and would prefer to go home after a long day and drink a glass of wine. I've pushed myself to go a little further than I felt I could. I faced some fears. Riding over I-285 during rush hour traffic giggling because I was having a way better time than those commuters! I was out this evening by myself on a local rail-to-trail and it was glorious. The trail was quiet with very few people on it, the weather was great and I just felt good! I trucked along at my best pace yet and kept thinking to myself how

Patsy.

A friend sent this video to me and when I watched it, I was struck more by the feelings it brought up around the content than the story itself.  Christen Reighter's story is an interesting and frustrating insight into what it means to NOT want a child. I invite you to watch this. Her experience is not unique and needs to be talked about. Even if you have kids. Or want them. What struck me most was what she says during her TedTalk: "I have believed having children was an extension of womanhood, not the definition." Truth is, I've been struggling with this lately. Not the fact that I'm longing for children. I'd be fibbing if I said there is a very tiny part of me that wonders what this will feel like when I get to the end of life. HOWEVER. That feeling isn't strong enough for me to want to find out. I don't feel like having children should be thought of as a "keeping the fingers crossed" kind of situation. If you aren't sure you'l