06.25.2008 | 5:49 pm
You know that when the doctor calls you back the same day they do the MRI, he’s not going to say something very happy.
Susan’s pubic bone is cracked. Her right hip socket (i.e., the one that she has not had surgery on yet) is on the verge of cracking.
Yes, that’s right. Susan’s been getting around with a cracked bone. Without pain medication and without complaint.
Susan’s threshold for “pain worth mentioning” is obviously a little different than yours and mine.
So. Tomorrow (Thursday) we go and see a radiation oncologist. Monday we go and see the surgeon who did her hip replacement. And hopefully we’ll cobble together a game plan.
Hey cancer, you’ve made your point. Now cut it out.
Comments (68)
06.24.2008 | 5:06 pm
I’ve tried at least three times to start this post humbly. To give credit where credit’s due. To thank all the people who made the 2008 Fat Cyclist TriathAlon.
But the truth is, this magnificent event was awesome because I am awesome.
I will explain my reasons forthwith.
Very Clear Messaging
Back when I first announced that there would be a TriathAlon, it was with the intention of making it four events: Mountain Bike, Sliding Rock, Road Bike, Brats.
Then I thought about it and decided it was just too much of a hassle. So I got rid of the road bike part.
The thing is, Boots of Everett, Washington has been on a road trip for several weeks, and so didn’t get the change memo. So when he showed up on Saturday morning, ready to ride his road bike, I would have felt really stupid about such a nice guy traveling so far for the ride, only to be turned away.
That is, I would have felt stupid and bad if I weren’t convinced that I am the Best Event Organizer in the Whole World. So instead I just chatted with Boots for a bit, gave him a bottle and pair of socks, and sent him on his way.
But only after apologizing like, a million times.
Again, Boots: Sorry. Really.
And that makes 1,000,001.
Excellent Preparation
At around 10:30ish, we all gathered at the designated parking lot. It occurred to me as I rode into the lot that I probably should have asked permission to use that parking lot. And that it was also possible that the parking lot would be reserved by somebody else who had thought ahead.
I banished the thoughts immediately, for I knew that if it had been important for me to get permission to use the parking lot, it would have occurred to me earlier.
Then, as befitting a top-notch organizer, I tooled around in the parking lot, talking with people and generally feeling kind of giddy about the fact that I wasn’t the only one there.
I have photos as proof (taken by Sue Richardson, of Sue Richardson Photography, and used by permission — because as an Excellent Event Organizer, I know having a photographer on hand is vitally important to any event).
I have reason to believe this is Kenny’s leg. Well marked, Kenny!
One of my nieces, marking the other one of my niece’s leg. Note the Paris Hilton-esque sunglasses being worn.
Sleepy’s wife, making the Fat Cyclist jersey look good.
After a while, I thought to myself, “Are we ever going to get started?” At which point I recalled that I was the one who would need to start things.
This was also the moment when I remembered that I needed to have group leaders to show everyone around on the course they had selected.
So I called everyone together, made a very motivational speech, during which I surprised various people by announcing that they would be leading groups of riders.
Many people approached me after my speech and told me it was both touching and uplifting, and that furthermore they now understand the meaning of life much more clearly.
It was that good of a speech.
Then we had a group photo (click photo for larger version).
I’m pretty sure I’m in there somewhere.
Meticulous Course Marking with Lots of Course Marshals on Hand
I fired the starting gun (or at least shouted, “Let’s go!”), and we all took off. As we started to ride, I realized that this was the first time I had ever been on a large ride where lots of people would be riding different routes on unfamiliar ground…without course markings or anyone to give directions at the numerous unmarked intersections.
Of course, I did this on purpose. Course markings and marshals are for the weak of mind.
My Medical Staff Is Always Prepared
To my surprise and pleasure, nobody got lost, as far as I know — although, to be fair, I probably wouldn’t know if somebody did get lost. I figure that we’re all adults, after all.
Well, except the kids. But I’m sure their parents have noticed they’re gone by now.
The trail itself is only moderately technical, except for the parts where you are riding across sand-strewn granite with exposure on both sides. Or the part where you’re flying down a ravine and the trail sometimes switches sides, veers sharply in another direction, heads directly into a tree, or occasionally vanishes altogether.
That’s OK, though. Nobody got hurt.
OK, it’s possible, I suppose, that both my nieces had endos after catching big whoop-de-doo air coming down the chute. And so did a few other people.
But really, what are scars but conversation pieces you never lose?
Location, Location, Location
It’s a well-known fact that a big group goes slower than a small group, and so the Hogg’s Hollow ride — which I do in about two hours a couple times per week — took about four hours.
By then, everyone was very hot. And out of water.
Which, of course, was exactly my intention, because that made the Sliding Rock that much more inviting.
The Sliding Rock was running fast, making it even more fun than usual. And the cold water felt great.
Photos are more useful than words to show off this part of the event, although I am certainly happy to add commentary to those photos.
Which is whiter: the churning water, or Grizzly Adam’s skin?
Rick Sunderlage’s wife (not his real wife) was supposed to be judging the event, not participating. I’m certain that participants are going to lodge complaints.
For years, I have been afraid to go down the Sliding Rock headfirst, this trick being Dug’s trump card over all of us. Well, no more. Turns out that all I needed was an audience.
There are lots of things I love about this picture. First, I love what a beautiful area this is. Second, it’s cool that there are so many Fat Cyclist jerseys there. And third, I love the protective way Rocky is standing watch over his daughters. “Nobody come near these two, or face the consequences,” his posture snarls.
Here I am, losing the Wet Jersey contest. And losing badly, I might add. Note my Triathalon Number: 42. My age.
I wish I knew what they’re laughing at.
Now, if I could take just a moment, I’d like to boast. Once we finished our Sliding Rock shenanigans, we rode our bikes back to my house. And here comes the part I want to boast about: That ride takes about seven minutes. Yes, that’s right, folks: I live seven minutes from that gorgeous, rideable waterfall.
Envy me.
I Am A Delegating Genius
Back at my house, we were ready for the third event. Bratwurst.
Behold.
The most beautiful picture that has ever been put on my blog.
And here’s where you’ll become completely convinced that I am the Best Event Organizer In the Whole World: I had Kuleani Fisher — better known simply as “Fish” — do the cooking.
And nobody does it better than Fish.
Fish takes care of the grill one-handed and still nails it.
A quick aside: I have known Fish ever since I have started riding, back when he worked at a bike shop. Now he’s a patent attorney, and probably has an obligation or two. But he jumped right in and volunteered to do the food for this Triathalon.
Fish is just a great guy.
And the same thing goes for Kenny, who brought in six loaves of homemade bread to go with the brats. And you know what, those loaves lasted for the entire meal, with plenty left over.
Bible comedy, folks. It’s hilarious.
Meanwhile, the rest of us got to just hang out, relax, and eat.
Mmmm. Bratwurst and homemade bread.
Mocougfan and Chtrich rehydrate.
It’s a shame you can’t see the back of Steve, here. His shirt is shredded and his back is bloody. He’s one of the lucky ones who turfed it coming down the Chute.
Oh, and did I mention that we had music for the event? Yeah, Jeff — a friend since we were both 18 — borrowed a professional sound system from a friend and set it up under the blue pavillion you see in the picture below.
Music included pretty much the stuff you would find on my iPod, including some personal favorites Jeff must’ve had to dig to find. Ebn Ozn, Jean Michele Jarre, and plenty of Devo.
I Give Away Awesome Prizes
Because I am an Excellent Event Organizer, I had many prizes on hand, including:
- Ibis: Obviously, the guys who donated the Silk SL. That’s quite a grand prize.
- Anonymous Guy: Someone who wants to remain anonymous gave away a used Gary Fisher Rig. Aaron in Arizona won that. Nice!
- Twin Six: Gave away bottles and T-shirts galore.
- Gary Fisher: Brand Manager Travis Ott donated two jerseys, a very nice shell jacket, and a whole buncha t-shirts.
- Rich (formerly of Colorado Boomerangs): Thanks to Rich, every kid at the Triathalon went home with a prize: a very cool kid’s boomerang. Thanks, Rich!
- CarboRocket: Brad’s CarboRocket gives you laser vision. True fact.
- Timpanogos Audiology / Tour de Donut: The folks putting on the Tour de Donuts gave away a bunch of great prizes. First, a set of custom-made iPod headphones, and several passes into the Tour de Donut, which I think may be the greatest race ever created.
Here’s me, giving away free stuff:
Soon, the focused light of the sun will melt a hole through my scalp.
And here are a bunch of people watching me give stuff away.
They seem confused. I am told that I mumble.
Final Assessment
I had a great time. I mean, a really great time. And not just because I am such a fantastic event organizer.
We’ll definitely do this again next year. But this time, we’ll start earlier in the morning, so we can do all four events (Mountain Bike, Sliding Rock, Road Bike, Bratwurst), as a proper TriathAlon should.
PS: Other folks have posted about the TriathAlon in their blogs. Lots of good pictures and details I didn’t get to. Check them out:
Edible art.
Comments (65)
06.23.2008 | 11:02 pm
I know a lot of people want to know how Susan’s doing, and most of you don’t want to wait until I finish writing my story about the TriathAlon to find out.
Plus, the two stories don’t go great together.
Last Wednesday
To really understand where things stand for Susan’s treatment, we’re going to have to jump back about a week, and then follow the timeline forward. I’ll try not to bog myself down in the details too much.
Last Wednesday, Susan had a CT scan, to find out to what degree the tumors have come back in her lungs and liver (and, potentially, elsewhere).
A couple years ago, a test like that would have freaked the two of us out beyond belief. Now, it was just another test — an indicator not of whether there was damage, but what kind of treatment the damage warranted.
But we still made a rookie mistake: we expected that we already knew all the possible outcomes.
Last Thursday
On Thursday, Susan was scheduled to have a bone scan, to find out whether there were any new tumors growing in her bones.
But before she could have the bone scan, Susan’s oncologist called her and told her to come down right away. “You’ve got blood clots in your lungs. These can be fatal.”
I got there before Susan. I’m not afraid to drive fast when I need to.
The doctor told us that Susan’s surgery, combined with her reduced activity, has probably caused blood clots to form in her legs. These have migrated to her lungs. If they had continued the trip to her brain, the clots would have killed her.
But they didn’t. So it’s a good thing we found those clots, while we can do something about them. Namely, we’re ramping up the coumadin to a much higher dosage (Susan already took a little bit each night to keep clots from forming in her port-a-cath), and a daily Lovenox shot in the meantime while the coumadin spools up.
Two quick observations. Did you know that the active ingredient in coumadin is the same active ingredient as in rat poison? Nice. Also, did you know that the copay for Lovenox is practically as expensive as crack?
Anyway, the blood clot scare is now behind us, and we got a bonus piece of good news: the CT scan also shows that the tumors in Susan’s lungs are not growing fast at all.
Yes, around here, we consider “very slow growth of the multitude of tumors in your lungs” good news, because that means Susan doesn’t have to go on chemo for now. Hormone therapy instead: stuff to block estrogen production in her body, since estrogen’s what Susan’s kind of breast cancer eats.
Yeah, cancer eats. (At least Susan’s kind of breast cancer does.) But only certain things — estrogen, in this case. So one of our strategies is to try to starve it.
Last Friday
Thursday evening, Susan started having a tough time lifting her left leg, and when she put weight on it, it would buckle.
By Friday afternoon, she couldn’t walk at all without use of the walker.
There should be a law against having cancer progress on you during weekend hours.
Monday
Monday morning, we called and wormed our way into an appointment (our original appointment for Monday had been canceled since we spent hour upon hour with the oncologist on Thursday).
Not surprisingly, Susan’s new trouble makes good sense in the context of the tumors she’s got in her pelvis and hips. So this Wednesday, she’s going in for an MRI to get a better idea of what kind of structural damage has been done (if any), and what we ought to do about it. Radiation? Surgery? Nothing?
Who knows?
We also learned one by-the-way piece of good news: the bone scan shows that there appear to be no new tumors growing in Susan’s bones.
In other words, apart from the bone damage caused by existing tumors, things are going pretty well.
Yeah, that’s right. Around here, this is what passes for “going pretty well.”
Comments (58)
06.23.2008 | 11:41 am
I’ve got tons to talk about today — the Triathalon and the Raffle — and a surprisingly small amount of time to write. Susan and I are going to be busy with doctors today. I’ll explain tomorrow, when I know more.
For right now, let’s talk about the results of the raffle. Because it’s pretty incredibly exciting stuff.
Generosity
Just over a week ago, I announced that Ibis, in partnership with Shimano, was donating a dream bike: An Ibis Silk SL, complete with Dura-Ace components and Dura-Ace SL wheels. Like this, but with Dura-Ace Wheels:
Oh, mercy. That is one sexy bike.
Anyway, we raffled the Silk SL off at $5.00 a ticket, with all proceeds going directly to the Lance Armstrong Foundation.
And Fat Cyclist readers showed me exactly what generosity looks like.
In the course of nine days, here’s what happened. 1234 different people donated money, from $5.00 all the way up to $500. And the raffle earned $37,500. Yes, you raised $37,500 toward fighting cancer.
That’s about three times as much as I predicted we’d raise when I asked Ibis to donate this bike.
I Can’t Believe that I Of All People Wound Up Winning the Bike
Like many of you, I put some money into the raffle. Of course, I never expected to win, since I rarely win anything, and have never before won a major prize in a raffle that I myself put on.
Until now, of course.
Imagine my surprise to find that I drew my own number when I did the raffle. “Well, that’s unexpected,” I said to myself. But I was sure my readers would understand and believe that I was being totally honest about the drawing and that it just kind of worked out that way.
I kid, I kid. I didn’t win the bike. I wonder what I would have done if I had drawn my number, though.
OK, let’s talk about who really won the Silk SL.
Meet Matt
Last Friday afternoon, Matt of Seattle, Washington, donated $100 in the raffle. He says, “I never expected to win anything, I just had some extra laying around and figured LAF could find a good way to use it. I know they do good things across the board.”
A good attitude, to be sure. And since donating at that time got him tickets 7223 – 7242, his good attitude paid off in a huge way: the winning ticket number was #7232, smack dab in the middle of his set of tickets.
Here’s a little from Matt’s email, when he found out he had won.
Wow seriously? I really won the Ibis dream bike? Wow, super damn cool.
I live in Seattle and been a proud Fat Cyclist for the last 2 years (6′ 2, 185); I proudly wear ‘07 and ‘08 pink lemonade jerseys and have a good, but ever decreasing number of pink socks, the dryer eats them.
I rode the Tour de Blast (Mt. St. Helens) this weekend in my pink jersey, on the same day as your “Triathalon.” A picture at the top with St Helens would have been included, but the camera is missing in the post camping mess. Here is one from this summer.
The Ibis will be an excellent weapon of choice for the Death Ride and RAMROD this year.
Every time I pull my fatcyclist jersey on for a group ride I get comments, be it a ‘go fatty’ often a ‘win susan’ one of my favorites being ‘f___ cancer.’ When I get these I have a friend I didn’t know before. In a weird way you have introduced me to some really good people. Thank you.
WIN!
Matt seems like a great guy; I’m excited he’s getting this bike.
Thank You
I’m the kind of person who starts feeling anxious if I’m not accomplishing something, and so cancer is an especially demoralizing disease, because a lot of the time there’s simply nothing I can do to help Susan.
So, apart from the good this money will do for those either are fighting or will have to fight cancer, working with Ibis and Shimano and BikeMike and all of you to raise some money to fight cancer has been very good for me.
Thank you.
PS: Matt has a blog of his own and talks about winning the Ibis here.
PPS: Chuck Ibis has a post about the raffle in his not-a-blog here.
PPPS: Tomorrow I will talk about the Triathalon, but let me whet your appetite with this series of photos of BotchedExperiment and his six-year-old daughter, as they take the plunge at the sliding rock (photos courtesy of Sue Richardson Photography):
Look at Botched’s glasses. Yeah, those are gone forever.
I just hope that little girl escaped from that scary man.
Comments (75)
06.19.2008 | 12:59 pm
Here’s a little secret you may have figured out about me by now: I am terrible at organizing events. Really, I mean it, with no hyperbole at all: I am awful at putting together parties.
And so, as you’d expect, every time somebody asks me about how planning and preparing for the "Triathalon" is coming, I change the subject as quickly as possible.
See, my problem is that I don’t understand what there is to prepare for. It’s just a ride with friends — more friends than usual, sure — followed by some sliding down the Sliding Rock, and then everyone comes over to my house for brats.
The only thing I have to plan for, as far as I can tell, is making sure there are plenty of brats. And since it’s no more difficult to make 50 brats than it is to make 5, I don’t see the problem.
When I tell people this, it sounds perfectly reasonable to me. But then the people I explain it to shake their head and slowly walk away.
There. I think I’ve lowered your expectations sufficiently. So now let’s get started with the details of where we’re going to meet, when, and what we’re going to do.
First, I Need To Know That You’re Coming
My greatest fear with the Triathalon is that many, many more people are going to show up than I expect. My second greatest fear is that many, many fewer people are going to show up than I expect. So, if you’re coming — even if we’re best friends in the world and there’s no way I don’t know that you’re coming, or even if you sent me an email a couple of months ago saying you’re coming — please send me an email with Triathalon as the subject line, and tell me how many people are coming in your crew.
A few of you have asked whether it’s OK if your kids come. Well, we have a really great swingset and a reasonably safe trampoline in the backyard, so sure. Bring the kids. But they remain your responsibility even when they’re at my house, OK?
Where and When
OK, first off, the easy part: When. We’re meeting June 21 (Summer Solstice!), 10:30 AM.
The "where" is not quite as simple. Have I mentioned before that my house is in a very small cul-de-sac? It is. And there’s not a bunch of parking available at my house. So you’re not going to park there.
Instead, you’re going to park here:
View Larger Map
That’s 890 N Main St, Alpine UT 84004. It’s a church, on the right side of the road.
What We’re Going to Do
And now, the order of festivities, according to the Very Rigorous Timeline which I am going to make up right this instant.
- Before you arrive: Complete all necessary Triathalon Body Markings you may care to give yourself. For example, on one calf you may wish to give yourself a race number. I recommend choosing your favorite number as your race number. On the other calf you may wish to write your first name. This will make it very easy for us all to call each other by each other’s names, since all you’ll have to do to learn someone’s name is walk around behind that person and look at his or her calf. This is very inconspicuous.
- 10:30: Arrive at church parking lot, ready to ride. Chances are the church will be locked, so don’t count on getting water or having a place to change. In other words, arrive ready to ride.
- 10:35: We’ll separate into different riding groups, depending on how much riding you want to do. There will be four categories:
- The "I Don’t Like Mountain Biking" Category: This group will ride on the road — with a short stretch of dirt road and gravel — straight to the sliding rock. Ride time should be about half an hour or less.
- The "I’m Up For a Good Ride, But Let’s Not Be Ridiculous" Group: This group will ride up the South Hogg’s Hollow climb, then down the chute over to the sliding rock. The chute is technical and steep in parts, so don’t be a fool: walk it when you should. Ride time will be about an hour to 90 minutes.
- The Extra Crispy Group: If you’re up for some extra climbing in order to do a really fun descent, this group will climb the South Hogg and then go up and down Jacob’s Ladder — a tricky and treacherous descent that I love very very much — before circling back round and coming down the chute and over to the sliding rock. Ride time should be about 90 minutes to 2 hours.
- The Everything and a Bag of Chips Group: This group will also do the Hogg climb, followed by the Jacob’s Ladder climb / descent, but then it will go down Ghost Falls, climb back up Clark’s, then down the chute to the sliding rock. Ride time should be about 2 – 2.5 hours. I admit to wanting to be the person who leads this group.
- 11 – Whenever: Sliding Rock! Dug’s wife and Rick Sunderlage’s wife (not his real wife) will be the judges. Their decisions are final and not subject to appeal. Dug has promised to demonstrate his famous head-first sliding rock technique, which I have never been brave enough to try.
- After Sliding Rock: After you’ve had enough of the Sliding Rock (most people find that doing it two or three times is sufficient), you’ll ride your bike back down to the church parking lot, where you’ll change into something less wet and stinky. Then you’ll ride your bike over to my house. To get to my house, just head South on main street for .2 miles, turn left onto Pioneer Road, go on Pioneer Road for a couple blocks ’til it comes to a T at Grove, turn left, go a couple blocks, and then turn left into Quincy Court. My house is the second one on the right.
- Brats: Really, the ride is just an excuse to get us all together and eat some brats.
More About Food
As you’ve no doubt noticed by now, I’m keeping this simple. That’s because it’s not really a sporting event. It’s a group ride with free food afterward, centered around a big fundraiser for the Lance Armstrong Foundation.
So, here’s what’s going to be on the menu:
- Brats: Fish, the guy who made brats for everyone last year at Leadville, is going to be in charge of making the brats at the Triathalon. You people do not know how lucky you are.
- Bread: Kenny’s bringing homemade bread to go with the brats. If you’re a vegetarian, you’ll still be happy you came, just because Kenny’s bread is so good.
- Potato Salad: Just in case anyone wants to get salmonella poisoning.
- Fruit / Vegetable Plate: Whatever’s cheap. I recently got a killer deal on a bunch of tomatoes, for example. Kind of a black market deal. Not sure why the price was so good.
- Water: Alpine’s one of those places where you can drink right out of the tap. But I’ll also have bottled water on hand for you snobby types.
- Diet Coke with Lime: Personally, I never drink anything else.
And that’s pretty much it.
Stuff to Bring
What should you bring? Well, not much, really. But you might like to have some of the following:
- A campchair to sit on if you don’t like sitting on grass (though I personally plan to sit on the grass).
- Something to drink if you don’t like water or Diet Coke with Lime. But no alcoholic beverages. The Fatty Household is an alcohol-free establishment (except for the beer I’m boiling the brats in).
Rules
There aren’t many, but I’m ferociously serious about the ones I’ve got:
- Don’t make a mess: We’re all friends, right? Please don’t leave my backyard trashed when you go.
- Be responsible. If you get hurt, it’s your fault and nobody else’s.
- Take care of each other. If somebody else gets hurt, drop whatever you’re doing and help.
- Keep it light. For a bunch of you, this is going to be either your first time meeting Susan or your first time seeing her in quite a while. Don’t make her answer how she’s doing a mazillion times, especially since we really don’t know right now. We’ll find out Monday. So don’t start talking about cancer treatment or the person you know who got over cancer by smelling limburger cheese thrice daily. I recommend talking to her about making jewelry, about the Lord of the Rings, and about anything that Joss Whedon has ever done. And about what a wonderful husband I must be. That’s a really good topic, too.
The Drawing
I’ll be giving a few things away while we’re eating brats, but the drawing for the Ibis Silk SL (and the other cool prizes) will happen Saturday at Midnight (MDT). You can continue buying tickets right until then. I will notify the winner via email, and once I’ve heard back, will announce the winner on my blog.
This is going to be fun.
I hope.
Comments (80)
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