Category: charity

Overcoming Fear: My Journey Biking for Parkinson’s Awareness
challenge · charity · cycling · fitness

Overcoming Fear: My Journey Biking for Parkinson’s Awareness

Sam B

by Susan Fullerton

Last Saturday, I biked almost sixty kilometers from Carleton Place to Ottawa as part of a large group of cyclists riding the final leg of the Spinning Wheels Relay to end Parkinson’s (2024). In Ottawa, we gathered with our supporters (including my brother Jeff who acted as chauffeur par excellence for the day) and walked to Parliament Hill, for a celebration around the Centennial Flame. I was proud to be asked to speak and spoke briefly on my experience as part of the East Coast team.  

The Relay was a modification of the Spinning Wheels Tour 2022, which involved three cyclists living with Parkinson’s (Mike, Jim, and Steve) riding across Canada, supported primarily by Mike’s intrepid spouse Darlene. This grassroots ride gathered steam as it went from Victoria to St. John’s, with other people living with Parkinson’s and supporters joining them along the way. I followed their progress and thought it was amazing how they were able to touch the lives of the people that they met throughout the country. I loved their message of hope and encouragement, showing first-hand that exercise and community can make a significant difference in how one lives with Parkinson’s.  

As a result, when they announced that the plan this year was to have teams of people with Parkinson’s ride from coast to coast to coast with a final ride on the Hill, I volunteered to be part of the East Coast team riding in my home province of Nova Scotia. I was nervous about the biking given the expectation was an average daily ride of 100 kilometres. This was significant for me, even on an e-bike, because of my limited training, but also because I haven’t ridden outside much since I broke my tibia in a bike accident in October 2020. 

In deciding to participate I thought of a statement I heard Steve say years ago. “Know your limits, but don’t let fear be one of them.” I knew that the relay team had a support vehicle and that everyone on the team was committed to helping each other finish the ride. As a result, I decided that my collection of fears (of failure, falling, embarrassment of riding an e-bike, etc.) would not be the definitive factor in my decision. Once decided, I went all in and even created a modest fundraiser in which my friends paid to guess how many kilometres I would ride in total. Although my time riding with the East Coast team was shorter than expected, I’m proud of my efforts. 

At times, I can let the fear of my future living with a degenerative debilitating disease overwhelm me. Fear can cloud my judgement, and I can miss seeing a solution in front of me. Perhaps more insidiously, fear may prevent me from taking an action that has a direct positive impact on my illness. 

I was reminded after Saturday’s ride that my bike battery has a range of 30 to 70 kilometers. It turned out my battery died close to the end of the ride, but I knew I’d be fine. I have learned over the last two months participating in the Relay that it helps me to focus on what my body can do, not what it can’t. I pushed myself and finished the ride on my own steam. If I had thought about the battery limits before the ride, I might have let the fear of not being able to finish the ride be determinative. That would have been a tremendous personal loss. It was an amazing day filled with laughter and tears, and it was important for me to participate in the final group ride celebrating the Relay’s success. The key for me is to focus on the positive that is the power of exercise and community support. That is my goal now and in the future. 

Susan spent thirty + years as a government lawyer.  She has a myriad of health issues including Parkinson’s, and currently focuses her time on managing her physical and mental health.

charity · cycling · fitness

Pedaling for Parkinsons 2024: And then there were two…

Sam B

We did it!

Sarah and I left the conference I was taking part in at Guelph (TRANS/FEMINIST PHILOSOPHY: PASTS, PRESENTS, FUTURES)  at dinner time, threw ourselves and our bikes into the car,  and drove through the rain to Sarah’s family farm in Prince Edward County.

Pasts, presents,  and futures

Zoom down the 401! Zoom!

401

We got up very early the next day for the 8 am start for the Pedaling for Parkinsons Ride.

Yawn! Yawn!

Our team is Spinning for Susan in honour of Susan, a family member and occasional blogger with Parkinsons.

This year though Susan is in Nova Scotia doing a bit of riding with folks doing a cross Canada relay for Parkinson’s research. Our friend Emily is on a boat.  Diane is riding in Ottawa. And so this year it was just the two of us.

Spinning for Susan 2024

You can still sponsor us here.

We had a great ride. It rained all night before the event but luckily the rain stopped and we had a dry ride.  It wasn’t too hot. It wasn’t too humid.  The weather was perfect.

I love the route for this ride. The countryside is beautiful and you can see the lake for most of it.  The volunteers are incredibly warm and friendly.  It’s all well signed and well organized.

Weirdly,  it was for both of us,  the first time out on our road bikes this season. It’s not that we haven’t been riding. It’s just there’s a lot of great gravel trails and it feels like I’ve either been commuting and so not riding my good bike,  or doing weekend trips on gravel bike paths,  also not on our good road bikes.

But when the pavement is good and there aren’t obnoxious drivers giving you a hard time,  there’s nothing like the nice road bikes for making it up hills and whooshing down the other side.

Oh  and we also raised some money for an excellent cause.

Whee!

charity · cycling · fitness

Sam’s summer cycling plans so far

Sam B

Reading Diane’s post about her cycling mileage goals got me thinking about my summer plans that involve my bike.

First up, Sarah and I have a bikepacking trip planned for June. It’s the route we tried to do during the pandemic when camping had to change into airbnb’ing because the provincial parks were all closed. Remember those days? Sigh.

Second, the next planned thing is Pedaling for Parkinson’s in Prince Edward County. It’s Saturday, August 17th, 40 or 75 km.

Third is my birthday bike ride, Sam’s 60 for Turning 60, Saturday, August 31st. No gifts but please donate to a fundraiser I’ve set up for the College of Arts Student Assistance Fund, https://bbis.alumni.uoguelph.ca/BBIS_Cannon/give/uofg.

Fourth, maybe, maybe the Tour de Dundas. It’s looking good in late September.

Fifth is the The Growling Beaver, is October 5th.

“Join us at the Growling Beaver on October 5, 2024, and help make life better for Canadians living with Parkinson’s by fueling research and raising awareness for Parkinson Canada. Inspired by Davis and Connie Carpenter Phinney’s “Live Well Today” philosophy, the Growling Beaver is a social (non-race) ride with 40, 60, 100 or 200 km routes through the scenic Beaver Valley at what should be the height of the fall colours.”

Next summer I want to get back to the Friends for Life Bike Rally so I’ll have done it in my 50th and my 60th year. It’s all part of planning my fitness future!

You’ll note there’s nothing planned in July and the first half of August.  I’m getting nervous about biking in extreme heat.  See here and here.

What significant rides are you doing this summer?

charity · cycling · fitness

World Parkinson’s Awareness Day

Sam B

It’s April 11th. That’s World Parkinson’s Awareness Day.

That reminded me of the Pedaling for Parkinson’s ride that we’ve been doing in Prince Edward County for the past few years.

We ride in support of frequent guest blogger and family member Susan, who was diagnosed with PD in 2017. She’s blogged about it here and here,  and likely on other occasions as well.

We rode in 2022 and 2023. See also here.

Here’s 2022:

Emily,  Sam,  Susan,  and Sarah

Here’s 2023:

Sarah,  Sam,  and  Emily

Want to join us in 2024?

Register for this year’s ride in Prince Edward County,  August 17th, here. There are 40 km and 75 km options, and the roads are pretty safe and scenic in the county.

Hope you can join us! It’s a fun ride for a very important cause.

charity · fitness · racing · running

Am I Worthy? (Guest Post)

amysmithphd2 Comments

By Elizabeth Duclos-Orsello

I have a confession to make. Just 14 days before running the 2024 Boston Marathon as part of a charity team raising money to fight racial and economic injustice in Boston (a cause deeply aligned with my professional and personal commitments.)

My confession: I sort of wish I could back out. Because I can’t handle the pressure.

Liz, a red-haired white woman, wearing Boston marathon running gear and a foil cape.

I’m pretty certain I can handle the physical pressure of running 26.2 miles. I’ve done that distance more than 40 times and have run more than 26.2 miles on some occasions. (Darn, I’ve even raced Boston 8 times before, and I’m a running coach for goodness’ sake!). But can I handle the pressure to perform and prove my worthiness to be here at all?

To many people I know, I’m a seasoned marathoner and ultra marathoner who runs all the time. And in some ways, this is true. I do love to run. And I run a lot. I can run long. And I can run pretty fast (for a 50-year-old). I could (if I had the time) run hours a day and find joy in every step. I have run on three continents, in more than a dozen countries, nearly all US states. At dawn, at midnight, and with the sun at its apex. In the shadows of pyramids, on the streets of countries rebuilding from war, on crowded sidewalks in urban spaces, and in quiet woods in my various home states.

I love to run. But I don’t love to race because I hate having my running on public display. And right now, the pressure weighing on me is the pressure to be publicly productive with my running and training and preparation for this race. And to perform on race day. To prove that I am worthy.

I feel the need to prove I’m worthy of the right to run this marathon. That I’m worthy of taking up space in this race. That my body deserves to be out there on April 15. Social media traffic among the Boston marathoning crowd can be brutal. There are posts asking why “charity” runners get to “take the places” of those who have “qualified” by time. There are those who have mused publicly about the selfishness of those like me, who have run this storied race before, while others who wish to, have not.

And because I worry about my worthiness as a charity runner, I feel the need to perform for others; to be happy, energetic, gracious and grateful at all times to friends, to fellow runners, online, to potential donors, to the non-profit staff. After all, I have “taken up” a spot in a race with only 30,000 spots. After all, the charity has “allowed” me to run “for them”. After all, I could just step aside. Instead, I have to publicly ask others to support me.

A row of women taken from behind. The women are wearing athletic gear and have their arms up to high-five runners as they pass by.

As someone who has struggled with imposter syndrome and a fair amount of body-hatred my whole life I’m feeling something deep and hard at this moment: the pressure to prove that I am worthy of others donating their hard-earned money to a cause I care about. To donating to me. To my body. I keep wondering: Is my body worthy enough…? Is my body worthy enough for you to care? Is my body worthy of your sacrifice? Then, if it is, what happens if I fail to knock the marathon out of the park?

These feelings and questions are troublingly familiar. They recall years of high school and college competitive running when terror gripped me each time I stepped up to a race. A place where others could see me and potentially witness my failure. I had won races, for sure. But would this be the day the truth of being a fraud was revealed? Would I still deserve to take up space on a team? On a track? To be called an athlete? I did not like my body. And I did not trust it to fulfill my duty to others (coaches, teammates, spectators). The eyes on me were too much. The fear of having to perform for others was too great. At 19 I stepped away from any competitive running. I couldn’t take the pressure. I didn’t want others to expect anything of my body and I didn’t want my body failing them. Failing to do whatever they hoped I (and my body) would do. I didn’t want the pressure.

So, as I face down these final days of fundraising, I have at times wished that I could just run this 26.2 mile on my own, without fear of letting anyone else down. I want to run and push forward and champion an anti-racist agenda in distance running with my race…but boy do I fear that I–and my body–will somehow fail the cause.

So now my confession is public. Perhaps foolishly. I know I should work on my mindset. But that is a task for another day. Today, I breathed. And today I ran…without a watch or a plan, for five easy miles. Solo. Hoping to believe a bit in my body. In me.

With a bit of luck, I’ll raise the remaining $400 of my fundraising goal by 4/12 and with a bit more luck, I’ll feel worthy as I run 26.2 miles from Hopkinton to Boston later this month.

Liz, a red-haired white woman, in running gear standing in front of a colorful sign that reads "I am strong"

Elizabeth Duclos-Orsello is a professor of American Ethnic Studies, Chair of a department at Salem State University, and consultant for non profits, universities and community groups on issues related to how groups and organizations can effect structural change with an intersectional lens at the core. She is also an RRCA certified running coach and founder of The Atalanta Effect running coaching for women.

She is running the 2024 Boston Marathon for team B.A.A. Gives Back, an organization working to address racial and economic justice in Boston through running and fitness efforts.https://www.givengain.com/project/elizabeth-raising-funds-for-boston-athletic-association-66826

charity · cycling · fitness

Help! Sam is very, very far behind

Sam B1 Comment

I wrote ready set go! And then I got sick.

Finally, finally, I’m better, but now there’s just ten days left in the month, and I’m committed to riding 150 km in November to help cancer research.

Yikes.

That’s 15 km a day. That’s not a big deal when I’m riding on the bike rally outside but it feels like a big deal with my very busy job and the bike trainer. Wish me luck.

I started today with the Herd’s Monday Morning Coffee Crew ride.

If you’re in Canada and want to support my participation in this charity fundraiser, please click here.

Thanks everyone!

Coffee, in a white cup, on a wooden table. Photo by Ozgu Ozden on Unsplash.
challenge · charity · cycling · fitness

Ready, set, go!

Sam B

Starting November 1. That’s today…

You can start logging your kms on November 1, 2023, the page helpfully informed me.

It’s going to be a slow start because I’m travelling for work until late night Sunday the 5th and so the Ride 150 km in November Challenge won’t really start for until November 6th. I’m going to count both commuting and riding indoors on my trainer in Zwift.

What’s up? See A November charity cycling challenge? Count me in. One regular member of the blog team, hey Diane, and one occasional blogger, hey Savita, did this as a swimming challenge this summer. I missed all my usual charity bike rides because of recovering from knee surgery so I thought I’d give it a try. I also struggle with November and need all the help I can get.

If you’re in Canada and want to support my participation in this charity fundraiser, please click here.

Thanks everyone!

I’ll check in during the month and let you know how it’s going.

charity · cycling · fitness

A November charity cycling challenge? Count me in

Sam B1 Comment

November isn’t my favourite month. But you all know that. September is back to school. October is all bright autumn colours and long sunny hikes and bike rides. December is the holidays. And then there’s bright snow and longer days starting in January. But November? Dark, rainy, gloomy, with none of winter’s redeeming features. I am always looking for ways to improve November. I’ll get my anti SAD lamps out. I’ll wear bright colours. I’ll cook fun food. I’ll look for good books.

This year it seems I’ll also take on a cycling charity challenge, aiming to ride 150 in November for the Canadian Cancer Society. Here’s hoping it improves my mood. And if it doesn’t? Fine, I’ll have raised some money for a good cause. It’s also a cause that’s close to home. My father died of cancer in 2015. I had thyroid cancer some years ago. My mother had cancer in her younger years.

Bonnie Raitt plus Royal Wood and the band

But as Bonnie Raitt said at the end of her concert Thursday night, 1 in 2 Canadians will have their life affected by cancer. It’s close to all of our homes. When she said that, I was shocked. I’m shocked each time I hear it. I even Googled it, and the Canadian Cancer Society tells me, “Cancer remains the leading cause of death in Canada. Nearly 1 in 2 Canadians will develop cancer in their lifetime and about 1 in 4 will die from cancer.”

So I’m riding my bike, sending some money their way, and hoping you do too.

Here’s the link to support my challenge. It only works for Canadians, sorry!

Together we are bigger than cancer

challenge · charity · cycling

Sam Pedaled for Parkinsons and Now Wants a Nap

Sam B

Thanks to blog followers, family, and friends who sponsored us in this year’s Pedaling for Parkinsons ride in Prince Edward County. Our team, Spinning for Susan, raised nearly $5000.

Next year, we hope to do it again with a much larger team of fit feminist bloggers and friends and make a Prince Edward County weekend of it.

This year, it was just Sarah, Emily, and me again. Our team was small but mighty. I was nervous. It was my longest ride since knee surgery.

The weather started out cold and threatening rain. It was also a very, very windy day. Luckily, the sun did shine eventually, and we had the tailwind on the way home.

You can check out all my achievements on Strava. Thanks tailwind!

Thanks also, Sarah and Emily! I did a lot of drafting on this ride.

Garmin info
Strava map

Here’s our team:

Spinning for Susan
Sarah, Sam, Emily

See you next year! It really is a great cause, a beautiful route, and though we did the 40 km this year, I’m hoping that next year I’m ready to tackle the 75 km.

But for now, what I want is a dip in the pool, an afternoon in the hammock with my book, and possibly a nap. I was laughing at my Garmin’s estimate of my energy levels, body battery=5/100. Definitely nap time!

Body battery
Demon Copperhead
How to feel about missing things
charity · cycling · fitness

How to feel about missing things

Sam B

Or, alternative title, this is the first summer in a very very long time when I won’t have ridden 100 km on my bike and I’m not sure how to feel about it. (Actually, that’s not quite true, there was the first pandemic summer when I was very apprehensive about riding big distances. It wasn’t because I worried about catching covid-19 or giving it to anyone else, but I was concerned about hospital capacity, and even the small risk of a crash seemed too much.)

But before that, it wasn’t since my Australia and New Zealand sabbaticals in 2017 and 2012. I did a lot of riding in Australia and NZ and even some regular racing (thanks to Women on Wheels and the Vikings) but because of all the hills, people didn’t tend to regularly ride big distances. Or at least the people I regularly rode with there didn’t ride long distances. There were endurance cycling groups but that community seemed different than the racing cycling clubs.

In my world, a century is a kind of cycling landmark. People talk about their first century ride, for example. I’ve given advice here on the blog about how to prepare for your first century.

In my early years of cycling my first century ride, 100 km, came early in the cycling season. I have very fond memories of riding to Port Stanley and back to London in late spring, early summer. See, for example, A feminist fitness bloggers’ century ride to Port Stanley. I’m afraid Tracy’s memories of her first century ride are less fond. Sorry, Tracy.

In 2018 Sarah and I did our first century of the summer on the day of the 1 day version of the bike rally. While not our best choice, we survived. I think that might have been my latest ‘first century of the summer.’

But this year I won’t make it at all and that makes me a little bit sad. Just like missing the bike rally.

Someone said recently, well maybe that’s the new normal for you post knee replacement–50 km rides instead of 100 km rides. And maybe it is. If it is I think I can accept that. I’ll still love riding my bike and I’ll focus on getting faster.

But it is also just four months since total knee replacement surgery on my right knee and just under a year since surgery on my left knee.

Patience. It’s early days.

I am setting myself the goal of riding my age in a day, so that’s 59 km in a day by the end of August. I am also taking part in the Pedaling for Parkinson’s ride in Prince Edward County and that’s 40 km on August 19. Our team is Spinning for Susan and you can sponsor us here. Meeting my goal might cheer me up!