The Challenge of a LIFETIME

Some things in life just don't come along often.

For example, it is extremely rare for me to start off a thought, sentence, or blog post with the sentiment, "One of the reasons that I'm happy I have CF is . . ." That's not to say that there aren't certain elements of having this disease -- and sharing this experience -- that I feel grateful for, but I am gonna go ahead and admit that I am not, in any real sense of the word, all that grateful to have been born with a fatal genetic disease. But, like any rule, there are exceptions, and this is one of them.

One of the reasons that I am happy I have CF is, I get to meet some awesome, incredible, inspiring, amazing, and downright fabulous people. People, for example, like all of you.

Or people like Mike Freemantle, whom I had the total honor of meeting a couple of weeks ago. And though Mike doesn't have cystic fibrosis himself, I still have to give credit where credit is due to CF for this meeting, because Mike is the kind of guy who . . . well, let's just say that Mike is a man of extreme energy. It's the kind of energy that leads people to push themselves, to challenge limitations, and to go beyond their own experience. In short, it's the kind of energy that connects everyone who has ever pressed against the outer realm of the extraordinary -- whether by illness or by choice or by anything in between.

Oh, yeah, and it's also the kind of energy that might lead someone to look at an ordinary road bike and think, "Hey, I think I'll hop on that sucker and take a leisurely 21 day coast-to-coast tour through 13 different states. And what the heck, maybe I'll raise about $50,000 for the Greater NY Chapter of the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation while I'm at it in honor of my friend (and fellow amazing rockstar) John. You know, just for kicks."

Right.

All of which leads us to yet another one of those amazing events that just flat-out doesn't come along often enough. Because this morning at the ridiculous hour of 6 AM, Mike and many of his supporters stood in the even more ridiculous sudden rain shower that swept across Times Square getting ready to launch what must have initially seemed to many people like the most ridiculous thing of all. One man, one bike, one big RV with the Great Strides/CFF logo proudly displayed, and more than a thousand miles between Mike and his final destination. But anyone who knows CF knows that the seemingly impossible is sometimes the most important, non-ridiculous goal of all. And anyone who knows Mike knows that the same is true about him. Because believe it or not he's done it before, and now he's decided to do it again.

Only this time, it's for all of us.

Below are a few pictures of the magic behind the madness (and the man behind the magic). Please, please, please check them out, then go to www.freematour.com to join and support Mike on his cross-country bike ride for a cure. He'll be keeping track of his experiences, his route, his pictures (the man has a camera strapped to his handlebars, people!) and, of course, his fundraising.

Because things like this just don't come along often -- and when they do we should all be so lucky as to have the chance to go along for the ride.

Only 13 states -- because he's an underachiever

Flier used to raise awareness of the cause

The one and only FREEMATOUR BUS in Times Square

Gosh, that's a handsome . . . logo. Um, yeah. The logo steals the show.

1 Bike, 1 Bus, 1 Rainy Horizon

"What, it's so wet that even Times Square is completely empty? Whatever. I've seen worse."

Start Your Engines

One small pedal push for Mike. One awesome push for CF awareness

Mike, you've got the wind of 30,000 beautiful people at your back, dude. Best of luck, safe travels, and, above all, thank you. For the chance -- and the challenge -- of a lifetime.

Because of You

Dear Cystic Fibrosis:

I know it's been a while since I've written you, though I honestly can't say I'm sorry. It's true that you are not my favorite penpal, but in my defense, you've been kind of busy -- that whole "wreaking havoc on innocent, beautiful lives" day job of yours seems to take up a lot of time, plus I have yet to see you take a vacation. It must be rough knowing that so much is riding on your every move, that you literally hold the health and happiness of over 30,000 people just in the US alone in your hands. I'm not sure I would want that kind of pressure, to be perfectly honest, though I like to imagine that if I did have such power I would use it for good rather than evil. But hey, to each his own, right?

Anyway, I thought it was probably about time for you and me to get back in touch. In part this is because I think it's only fair to let you know that you are, once again, being a very royal pain in my butt. Not that you ever stop, obviously, but it feels like sometimes -- every once in a very blue moon or so -- you seem to back off just enough to give me a false sense of security. You lie low for a few days and I feel better, and my friends seem healthier, and no one is dying or sick or stuck in the hospital, and for just a few brief moments I remember that there was a time when I thought you maybe didn't matter quite so much. That maybe, if I kept my eyes shut and wished hard enough for long enough and with enough faith in the power of miracles, that you would just disappear. And yes, I feel weird writing that, even to you. It seems strange to have to tell someone (or something, rather) that you hate them. But I do, CF. I really, really, really do.

I hate you for what you do to my friends, for the lives you've taken, for the joy you seem to take in hurting families, worrying loving parents, leaving behind dedicated spouses, and doling out way more pain than any young child should ever really have to endure. I get it; I understand that you are part of life and that, like anything, you have your beauty. I see how strong you make people like my friends, who are facing sickness or transplants or second transplants or new additions to their families when they themselves can't breathe. I see the light that you spark in them and it is almost enough to make me think you have something to offer -- but then I remember that each of these people are strong DESPITE you, not because of you. And then I hate you all over again, and I realize that I simply cannot wait until the day when their collective light is allowed to burn even brighter without your darkness. Because let me tell you dude, it is going to be one hell of a sparkle show when that moment finally happens.

Which brings me to my second point, CF:

You don't stand a chance.

Nope, sorry, not kidding. I absolutely mean it. And as proof I've spent the last couple of weekends at events that have raised literally hundreds of thousands of dollars to eradicate your presence. I've stood next to friends and family members who have lost a loved one and who are still so dedicated to kicking your butt. I've watched in awe as one small child took her place in the center of a huge group photograph -- her future as bright as the smiles on her team members' faces. I've had the chance to be personally inspired by Mike Freemantle, who is literally riding his bike across the country to raise money for the Greater NY Chapter of the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. I've seen people walk in the rain, people walking with strollers, people dressed in costume, and people coming together in mutual love, hope, and celebration.

And all of this, CF, is not because of you at all. It is despite you. It is not because you make us sick, but that we are strong despite your efforts. It is not because you rip apart our community, but the way we rally despite these great losses. It is not because we have no faith, but that we are hopeful despite your nasty tricks. And it is not because you weaken our spirit. It is that we will always be the bigger, faster, and more determined team -- despite it all.

So I don't mean to add to your workload, little monster, but if I were you I would consider taking up running -- and pretty fast too. Because if the heart, soul, and dedication that I've seen these past few weeks alone is any indication, you're in way over your head with this one.

And unlike the rest of us, CF, you are running alone.

Sincerely,
Piper