Susan died tonight (August 5) at 7:25pm. It was a hard, long day, and Susan fought right to the end, for much longer than anyone would have thought she could.
My mom, my sisters Kellene and Jodi, and my Brother-in-Law Rocky were all here to support my family as Susan passed away.
I’ll have more to say soon, but consider this. Susan inspired me to expand the focus of my blog from nothing but bike-related jokes to a serious and pitched fight against cancer.
Then she inspired 500+ of you to join Team Fatty, the largest LiveStrong Challenge Team there has ever been.
And Team Fatty has raised close tomore than $500,000 — a record amount.
Susan’s part in the battle is over, but she didn’t lose. She led the charge. She showed the rest of us how to fight: with determination, focus, creativity, and outrageous endurance.
Now it’s up to the rest of us to Fight Like Susan.
The contest I’m launching today troubles me, because it reveals a previously-unknown weakness in me.
Specifically, I find myself in the ethically-problematic position of trying to figure out how I can possibly be the winner of this contest, the prize of which is a 2010 Orbea Orca or Diva (winner’s choice). Either bike will be outfitted with a Dura-Ace Di2 group with Dura-Ace carbon tubeless wheels, PRO Stealth handlebar, PRO Vibe seatpost and other PRO accessories. The estimated value of this bike is $9,600.
I ask you to consider the below photograph (click the photo to see a larger, more exquisitely detailed version), then decide whether you can really blame me for wanting to keep it myself.
That bike is sexy. Dangerously sexy.
But no, I will not keep this bike, even though I would like to. Instead, I will give it to a random person who has donated any multiple of $5 to my LiveStrong Challenge page, or to a random Team Fatty member (any city) who has raised money in their own LiveStrong Challenge since Friday, July 31.
Frame: Orbea Orca or Diva: The Orca is Orbea’s flagship bike, and the Diva is the women’s-specific variation on the Orca. Frankly, there just isn’t much I need to say about these bikes. Just look at them. They’re beautiful. But they’re not just vanity bikes. Oh no. If you’ve ever ridden an Orca, you want an Orca. They ride as sexy as they look. Which, I would like to point out, is very, very sexy.
Drivetrain: Dura-Ace Di2 Group: Back at Interbike last year, Shimano was showing off its not-yet-released Di2 electronic shifting group, called “Shimano Electronic Intelligent System” (SEIS). Until I saw it in action, I didn’t really get the “Intelligent” part, but the fact is, it’s incredibly cool. When you tap to shift in the back, the front derailleur senses and trims to make sure your chain’s still aligned. If the rear derailleur gets bumped, it adjusts back so it’s true to the cassette. And it shifts fast. This bike is just off-the-charts fast, light, and high-tech.
What? You say you want all the details? Good call. Here’s the bike’s spec:
Frame/Fork: Choice of 2010 Orbea Orca or Diva (Choice of size & color from stock on hand)
Oh, you think you’d like to have this bike? Well, of course you would. Well, to win it, you’re going to need to do a little cancer fighting with me. Here are the ways you can donate.
By Donating at my Philly LiveStrong Challenge Page: For every $5 you donate at my LiveStrong Challenge page, you get another row on my spreadsheet. That DOES NOT mean that if you want to donate $50, you’ve got to do ten $5.00 donations. I’m awesome at Excel and will be able to give you the correct number of chances automatically, based on how much you donate. Click here to donate now .
By Raising Money at Your OWN Team Fatty LiveStrong Challenge Page: If you’re a member of Team Fatty, now’s a great time to donate money to your own LiveStrong Challenge, as well as to get others to donate to it. For every $5 you raise starting last Friday (July 31) to the end of the contest, you get another row on my spreadsheet.
The contest ends August 13 at Midnight, MDT. At that point I will choose a winner at random from my spreadsheet, using random.org to pick the lucky person. I will then fire off an email to the winner. Once I get acknowledgement, I’ll announce it on my blog, and you can begin collecting envious looks.
Why This Is Important — AKA, How I Got This Bike To Give Away In The First Place
Perhaps you are talking to yourself right now. And if so, perhaps the thing you are saying to yourself is, “How did Fatty wrangle this kind of bike to give away? I had no idea he has that kind of juice.”
Well, the fact is, I do not have that kind of juice. Not even close.
However, there is a guy at Shimano whose fiance has the same kind of breast cancer my wife Susan has, and he and I have spent some time talking. He’s got the same kinds of reasons to hate and fight cancer that I have.
So. He’s got the goods, I’ve got a ready-made soapbox, and you’ve got a serious need to get yourself the sweetest bike you could ever imagine. It’s a match made in heaven.
And, more important than all that, is the fact that if and when we all work together to fight cancer, we will eventually succeed. So please, donate now. You may — or may not — win this incredible bike. Regardless, though, you’ll have done something good and important.
And how often do you get to say that?
Q&A
People are asking some good questions in the comments, so I’m adding this section to respond to some of the ones I’m seeing frequently:
Q. Can I win if I live outside of the U.S.? A. Yes, but you’ll be in charge of any customs charges if you win. Fair enough?
Q. What’s the name of the guy at Shimano who’s gone to all this trouble? A. He asked to not be named. Just think of him as a great guy at a great company who cares a lot about doing the right thing. Because that’s who he is. Just like you.
Q. Are we automatically entered if people have donated to our personal site since 7/31 or is there something we have to do to be sure we are entered? A. It’s automatic. I took a snapshot of everyone’s personal site earnings on 7/31 and will do so again at the end of the contest. The amount you’ve earned during that period, divided by $5, is the number of chances you get.
Got more questions? E-mail me or ask in the Comments. I’ll do my best to get an answer to you.
A Note from Fatty:Be sure to check in tomorrow, when I will be launching the contest where you can fight cancer and win the Orbea Orca / Diva with the Shimano Dura-Ace Di2 build. This bike is a work of art (click the thumbnail to the right for a larger view of the bike). Very fast, light, responsive, and technically-advanced art. Rideable art that retails for $9600. That your riding friends will be jealous of forever and ever, and rightly so.
So, like I said: Check back tomorrow. And bring your wallet.
Another Note from Fatty: Team Fatty members (all cities), you’ll be able to work toward winning this bike by getting people to donate to your LiveStrong Challenge page. So start bugging your friends and family now and tell them to start donating rightnow. All donations made to your account starting last Friday count toward your chances of winning this bike.
Annual Tradition
For each of the past twelve years, I’ve signed up for the Leadville 100. I’ve started all twelve times, and I’ve finished all twelve times (stories here, here, and here, just for example). I’ve been as fast as 9:13, and as slow as 11:40. This race is one of my very favorite annual traditions. If, for instance, I had to give up my birthday and Father’s Day to go to Leadville, it would be a very easy trade. I’d throw in Halloween and Thanksgiving, too. And Arbor day.
But here’s a little surprise I wasn’t planning to reveal until after this year’s race: I’m currently in very good shape. I weigh about 161 pounds and am currently riding with the fast guys in my group. Last Saturday as we rode together, Kenny said I was climbing stronger than I ever have before.
The weight loss has been easy this year: my interest in food is way down. Evidently, I’m only a stress eater up to a certain level of stress. Past that, I start to forget about food.
And the “fast” part has come easily this year, too. My two hours on a bike every day has become more than a fun way to exercise and be with my friends; it’s become a pressure release valve. I’ve been riding angry, to good effect.
My descending skills have improved dramatically over the past season, too. In a race that includes several multiple-mile descents, that could buy me several important minutes.
Add in an extremely light and responsive bike — my Gary Fisher Superfly Singlespeed — and I’ve got myself a recipe for a fast Leadville 100. Certainly not in under nine hours, but quite possibly under 9:30. And on a singlespeed, that’s not half bad.
But I just don’t see how I can go.
The Math
I’ve always made a four-day trip out of the Leadville 100. Leave Utah (or Washington for a couple years) on Thursday, hang out in Leadville on Friday, race on Saturday, come home on Sunday.
Theoretically, I could shorten this to an extremely tightly-scheduled (and exhausting) Friday-Saturday trip. But the fact is, the annual Leadville 100 trip stopped being mostly about the race a long time ago — I’d say about 70% of why I like to be there is to catch up with old friends and spend a couple days wandering around the town being a bike bum.
And there is just no possible way I can leave Susan for four days — or even two days — right now. The truth is, last Saturday I had a difficult time leaving her for six hours. Sometimes she needs me — and only me. And sometimes I just need to be with her. True, she spends about 20-22 hours of most days sleeping now, but when she wakes up, she calls for me. And I need to be there.
Churn
I guess it says how much I love this race, though, that in spite of the realities of my situation, I still play through the possible scenarios, trying to find the path that lets me go to Leadville without feeling like a total heel.
In my heart I know there’s no such path. But my head’s still looking for it.
And I guess that at least a piece of me thinks I can still go, because when friends ask whether I’m going to Leadville, I say, “I’m at about 10-90 right now.”
But that 10% chance — which is in all honesty more like a 3% chance — is enough for me to keep training like I’m all in.
I know: it’s just a race, and it’s not as important as taking care of Susan and my family right now.
Still: when you’ve done something every single year for a dozen years, missing it for the first time isn’t easy.
A Note About Susan from Fatty: Susan is showing — once again — how tenacious she can be. She’s begun drinking again — water, Gatorade, andGuarana Antarcticaare her favorites — and is talking more. The doctor has said he’s just amazed at how resilient and strong she is. And I am too.
Big Tease
I recently gave you a clue about the next big Fat Cyclist fundraiser for the Lance Armstrong Foundation. It was a very difficult clue: “the prize will rhyme with “Orbea Orca with a Shimano Dura-Ace Di2 build.”
Well, are you ready for your second clue? The prize will look very much like this (click the bike to see a larger version):
Oh, OK. I know these clues are too hard. I am actually going to be giving away an Orbea Orca (or Orbea Diva, winner’s choice) with a Shimano Di2 build.
That’s a $9,600 bike, people.
And you know what? The contest begins this Tuesday. So you might want to check in then for details.
Including the story of why and how I am giving away the most insanely delicious bike ever given away by anyone.
Big Tibble
For years, I have talked about Tibble, describing it as the best trail in the world. And now, finally, I have video from earlier this week of a group of friends and me riding this trail. I just couldn’t compress that much wonderfulness into a one-song video, so I went with two songs. I hope you’ll understand.
I don’t know about you, but I could watch this video over and over.
In fact, I’m going to go watch it again right now.
Last night was tough. About 3:30am, Susan started complaining that her catheter wasn’t working right. This has happened before, so I called the hospice people, who walked me through the process of irrigating a catheter.
So. Now I know how to irrigate a catheter. Which I can add to my recently-acquired skills of:
Changing sheets while Susan’s still on the bed.
Knowing the exactly right angle to tilt a cup so that Susan gets a drink, without getting drenched
Being able to figure out what she wants or needs when she can’t find the right words
Knowing which meds to give her, and when
Administering those meds via syringe, quickly and without fuss
Brushing her teeth softly enough that it doesn’t jostle her head side to side, but vigorously enough that she feels like her teeth are clean
Waking quickly and being able to clear out mental cobwebs instantly
The thing I’m really proud of, though, is that Susan needs and calls for me several times per day. Not because she wants me to do anything for her, but just because she’s anxious or afraid or confused or lost, and she thinks I’ll be able to help. Really, when she’s like this it’s almost exactly like being trapped in a bad dream for her. Sometimes it’s a full-blown nightmare, and then I give her a shot of Valium.
Often, though, she’s just confused: “Where are we? Can we please go home?” And I’m able to tell her that we are home, and I’m with her and everything’s OK.
And when it works — she calms down and maybe even drifts off to sleep — it is wonderful. I’ve just done the best thing I could be doing right at that moment: I’ve saved my wife, at least for the moment.
I hate everything about cancer and what it’s doing to Susan, but: I am incredibly proud of the things I’ve learned so I can take care of her.
Speaking of Proud
I’m also incredibly proud of my two sons — ages 15 and 13. They come into Susan’s room several times per day and sit down with her, putting their hands on her arm and talking to her for a few minutes. When she tries to talk back, they do their best to understand. When they can’t make it out, they’ve learned to read her face and respond the best they can: “Don’t worry, everything’s taken care of,” or “That sounds good.”
And they tell her they love her every day.
Does that sound like teenage boys to you?
PS: I have received hundreds of comments and email messages, all of them incredibly kind and generous. Thank you.
I realize that many, many of you are new to the site, thanks to tweets from Doug Ulman (LiveStrong CEO), Lance Armstrong and a post from Bike Snob NYC. You may be interested in what happens to a blog’s traffic when linked to by a perfect storm of cycling and cancer-hating heavyweights. Well, it looks like this:
PPS: A lot of you have also asked how you can help. Well, if you mean it, here’s how: Fight cancer. Those of you who who have been tracking this blog know that I am pretty intense in my support of the Lance Armstrong Foundation, because I know firsthand of the good they do and the calibre of people they are. So, if you want to help, join me. Donate here. You’ll be helping people who already have cancer, and you’ll be helping find ways to treat cancer. And that matters to me. Thanks.
