We’re down to hours here before Braking AIDS Ride begins. I had such hopes of writing about all sorts of important things before leaving for Boston on Thursday for orientation day—what living with HIV and HIV meds can look like and some thoughts about the stigma of HIV and AIDS (which, yes, still is alive and well), to name just two. I cannot possibly do those subjects justice before the ride—I’ll be lucky if I can do them justice at all—but I did want to share some of the thoughts, serious and silly, that run through my head in the 48 hours before the ride:

• I can’t believe I’m doing this. Again.
• Do I have enough butt butter?
• Does anyone, truly, look good in spandex cycling clothing? (Except my friend Colby. He doesn’t count. He looks good in everything. Even after riding 103 miles in a downpour, his hair looks perfect, exactly as it did at the beginning of the day. So clearly he either has a hairdresser running alongside his bike as he races along at 20mph, or he has some sort of deal with the cosmic powers that be.)
  

  I’ve posted this photo before. This pic of me and Colby was taken right before closing ceremonies last year. In other words, after Colby had ridden 85 miles in the rain wearing a cycling helmet. It may be even better that I’m in the photo as a source of hair comparison. I mean, really, look at the coif on that man! Photo courtesy of Colby Smith.

• How can I not do this? Why can’t I just do this all the time?

• DO NOT FORGET TO DROP THE BLUE STREAK OFF AT BIKE SHIPPING ON WEDNESDAY MORNING.

• Did I train enough? Probably not. Sigh…
• Oh, man. I meant to email so-and-so to ask him/her to donate.

• ?!?!?!??!?!? That is a vague approximation of my amazement and astonishment at the ongoing compassion, generosity, and bravery I witness and the encouragement I receive as a result of my involvement with this ride, all season long—from people I know well, from people I know but not that well, and even from people I don’t know who have somehow connected with me about this ride and this cause. No one who knows me would ever say I’m a la vie en rose Pollyanna type when it comes to my overall assessment of humanity. I am a skeptic and a believer in most things. I see humanity as a mixed bag, with strengths and weaknesses in equal doses, and often with strengths and weaknesses being the very same qualities, depending on the situation and how those characteristics are being utilized. And yet year after year this event brings out incredible, moving aspects of people that I hadn’t known were there, myself included.

• I’m so lucky. To all my unbelievable fantabulous donors out there—the long, full list of you is forthcoming after all this riding madness is over—THANK YOU AGAIN AND AGAIN! You inspire me so much, I am willing to temporarily forgo my hatred of styling a phrase in all caps. for emphasis and my dislike of the overused exclamation point. You fill me with so much wide-eyed glee, I make up dumb non-words like “fantabulous.”

• What we are all participating in here, riders, crew members, and every person I’ve been in contact with because of this ride whether the person donates or not, is important. It matters and saves lives. Not that most of you need any convincing about how essential the funds raised by Braking AIDS Ride are to Housing Works and its services, but the following two bits of information crossed my path recently. I share them here because they are a stark reminder of why what my donors and supporters have done on behalf of Housing Works and its clients is heroic and absolutely needed and why we must continue to raise money and to raise awareness about AIDS/HIV as a serious health problem:

• HIV status and testing are serious ongoing challenges. Most people are aware that the annual rate of new HIV infections, even here in the United States, in New York City, in 2013, remains pretty static. In addition, as I’ve written before, at any given time, about 20% of people living with HIV are unaware of their infection. Even more startling is how much that same percentage goes up when you look at teens and young adults. According to the CDC, in the United States, of people between the ages of 13 and 24 who are HIV+, 60% do not know it. I’ll be blunt: If you don’t know you have HIV, it’s likely that you are unknowingly giving it to others, and they may be doing the same, and so on. Housing Works is doing its part to try to face these challenges and numerous others head-on. HIV testing is one of Housing Works’ many medical services, and the organization is also a strong advocate for over-the-counter HIV testing.
  

  Think HIV isn’t a problem? Think again. This terrifying statistic makes me want to run out and try to raise another $10-15K in the next 48 hours.

• Funding for HIV and homeless-related services were both included in the mandatory budget sequestration.The need for continued financial support at organizations like Housing Works from the general public—whether it comes from individuals or via corporate donations—is urgent and all too real.  An estimated 8,000 households that include people living with HIV/AIDS will lose housing assistance from a government program called Housing Opportunities for Persons with HIV/AIDS (HOPWA), putting them at risk for a return to homelessness. If we wait for our government to get its act together, people in dire need will be homeless and out on the street again.

• I wonder what weather.com…. On a less serious note, in these last days before the ride, I sometimes let myself imagine what the ride weather might be like, what it could be like, and before I let the wish in my heart fully form in my head, I shush myself, because it would not do to Tempt the Weather Gods by counting those chickens before they… well, that’s a mess of images and aphorisms, but you know what I mean.
• Speaking of chickens: Many people who do this ride, myself included, take their inspiration from the wisdom of erudite people like these:

“You must be the change you wish to see in the world.”—Mahatma Gandhi

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”—Margaret Mead

“If you ask me what I came into this world to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud.”—Emile Zola  

“Let us give publicity to HIV/AIDS and not hide it because [that is] the only way to make it appear like a normal illness… One of the things destroying people with AIDS is the stigma we attach to it.” [emphasis mine] —Nelson Mandela

The list could go on and on. Samuel Beckett. Eleanor Roosevelt. Martin Luther King, Jr. Etc., etc., etc. I draw energy, strength, and, I hope, greater compassion from historical figures and luminaries like those above, too, of course. But if I’m being honest, when I’m in the van on the way to Boston, or topping off the air in my tires at 5:30am on Ride Day 1, or if I’m on Mile 69 of Ride Day 2 and my ass hurts and I’m cold and wet from the rain and man, I can’t contemplate brilliant leaders and visionaries or AIDS or HIV or homelessness and who’s living and who’s dying and who’s dead already, I can’t think about any of that Deep, Important Stuff for a little while at least—in those moments, I also take tremendous comfort in these words from the 2000 stop-motion animation film Chicken Run, spoken by Fowler, the stodgy former RAF rooster:

Keep pedaling! We’re not there yet! You can’t see paradise if you don’t pedal!—Fowler, from Chicken Run

Rocky, the American rooster from Chicken Run who learns that helping others is as rewarding as helping oneself, learning to “fly” via bicycle. Indeed. You can’t see paradise if you don’t pedal.

Thank you again to everyone who has been so supportive throughout this journey!

And to you slackers who haven’t caught up on your email: YES YES YOU CAN STILL CLICK HERE AND DONATE!