MD Trek Day 3

Another night of little sleep, another early morning. Today was the perfect day to face my fear. The day was to start with a flat, 10-mile bike ride on a paved trail. This was the time to get some biking miles in. The BWI loop is more difficult and I survived that so this would be a piece of cake (TM Kenny). The air was cool but my anxiety was high. My hands were shaking but this was not something I hadn’t done before. Just a flat, 10 miles. This trek isn’t a finding myself journey where I discover who I really am or some such shit, but I do expect to learn some things about myself. Today I learned, or really confirmed, what I already suspected. I am most definitely not a bicycle person. I started off shaky but as the ride went on felt a little better, a little more confident, though by no means fully comfortable. But anyway, I had excellent support and scintillating conversation making the miles fly by (or not because I really could not wait to get off the bike). I finished without incident (other than losing a few years of my life riding over roots, dodging branches, passing other cyclists and the random truck coming from the opposite direction to remove a downed tree, and riding between gates) and immediately composed the Bike For Sale ad in my head. I do think I would have done better on a hybrid bike, something with bigger tires, a bit more stable but what’s done is done. Biking is not my thing and that’s okay. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will not be riding with the others. Well, maybe not. It’s hard not to be disappointed, I wanted to complete all the miles, but I was always apprehensive about the bike and I tried. At least I can say I tried. Sometimes that just has to be enough.

Next up was the walking portion of the day. And for a good while I took the time to just walk by myself. I quieted my mind, took in my surroundings, and was just present. Focusing on my breath, the sounds of my feet connecting with the ground, noticing the wind kissing my skin, grounding myself in the moment. I often ran hard uphill today, running emotionally, running for those who can’t, always running for Ariella. And once again I soared down the downhills. It was cathartic and exactly what I needed. This is a walking journey but running truly is my happy place. The discomfort coupled with the exhilaration, the release of just everything, the letting go.

The trek didn’t end there. There was some more biking (not for me) ending up in the town of Frederick where we had a crowd waiting, including the child being honored for that day. I have met and followed so many children with cancer who have died. My heart breaks each time and meeting new children with cancer guts me. I have such a wide range of emotions that threaten to completely overwhelm me. Sadness that there is yet another child with cancer. There are just too many. Happiness that at least for now the child is surviving. Fear of getting to know another child that may die. And always jealousy. Jealous that those families still have their child. And then there is the guilt for feeling jealous. I want more than anything for no more children to die from cancer. But I also want my child to not have died.

In a poignant moment we were introduced to another family whose daughter had died. Well David had actually met the father before but I had not met either parent. No hesitation. We hugged, we held each other, we cried, our burden lifted a little while we took on the burden of another grieving parent. No words necessary. Just being together in that moment. Unfortunately we all know. Without explanation. We know each others’ pain and heartache. We know what it’s like to be suffocated by grief, and we know what it’s like to have your family shattered, never to be fixed. We know what it’s like to have a hole that can never be filled and we know the feelings of the guilt and the what ifs and to not be able to have a happy moment that’s not tainted with sadness. And it’s a bittersweet comfort to be with someone else who knows. Because we don’t want anyone else to be going through this horror but it helps to know we are not alone.

I’m not sure how I feel about the day overall. A lot of conflicting emotions. Proud I got on the bike but disappointed that I didn’t increase my comfort and will now miss a lot of miles. The walk actually was great. I needed that freeing time to myself and then, when I was ready, the time conversing with kindred souls was also much needed. I’ll just leave it that today was therapeutic.