DM Solo Training Ride: An Emotional Ride on a NEW Route

Taking a break in the Phoenix Mountain Preserves at Piestewa Peak

It was hard to get out of bed this morning. I've been running full speed ahead for weeks and it's starting to take a toll on me physically and mentally. I really didn't want to go out on my usual weekend routes this morning and since I was slow to rise, I had a little less time than normal to ride.

I really try not to skip an opportunity to ride if I can help it. Sure, this stuff is fun for me, but I do the ride - and train for the ride - because I am committed to making good on the investment my sponsors make in me by raising as much money and riding as many miles as I can to help bring an end to HIV and AIDS.

So I improvised this morning... I wanted to get 20-25 miles in and was happy to experiment on a new route. I rode the couple blocks over to Central Avenue and headed due north. Central Avenue is actually a decent road to ride on - major road without a lot of traffic, cuts through a lot of interesting parts of town. North of Camelback it's a whole different experience than what I'm used to riding through South Phoenix and downtown. Large shade trees line both sides with paths for horses and joggers. Beautiful homes.

Sunnyslope... For Ian.

I rode all the way up through Sunnyslope to North Mountain, climbing as far as I could on the road until I had to turn around because the road ended. I took a moment to savor the view before continuing back down to Glendale Road, where I headed East for Piestewa Peak.

The northern end of the Central Avenue corridor at North Mountain with downtown and South Mountain in the distance

At Piestewa, I again rode up through the foothills, getting a little bit of climbing in on my way up to the Apache ramadas at the end of the paved road. There were A LOT of hikers out. I got a few strange looks... They're not used to seeing road bikes up in that area, I guess.

The ride back down toward home along 24th Street was also stunning. Nice views, lush vegetation, and the smell of desert plants in the air.

And then it happened.

Somewhere around the Arizona Biltmore, in the midst of all this beauty, I started to think about why I do this ride year after year and reflected on something a good friend told me a few weeks ago. In essence, he pointed out that I'm a 'fixer'. It's no secret. I like to step in and help solve problems, find solutions... Make things better. But for all the good work I do for this ride and in honor of those we've lost, the many beneficiaries of the Center, our communities, and the vision of a world without HIV and AIDS, I realized that maybe I'm not capable of fixing this. I started to think of my friends living with HIV and AIDS and all I would do to make them better - if only I could. I thought, maybe just for a moment, that this problem is far too great for me to take on... for me to fix.

I broke down. BIG TIME.

Maybe it's true. Maybe, standing alone, this is an impossible feat I commit myself to. But I'm not alone and neither are those loved ones I thought about who fight with such courage through the many challenges of living with HIV and AIDS. We are in this together. As I am so often reminded, IF ONE OF US HAS AIDS, WE ALL DO. And for as long as I can or until I drop dead, I will be on my bike fighting with each pedal stroke to bring an end to this disease and to help stop the spread and support those in need in the meantime. Even if that's all I can do to help fix this, it's what I will do.

These rushes of emotion come upon me all the time on the ride, but not as often on training rides. I guess it's all for the better that I have some practice riding with tears in my eyes. I pulled through it. And when I gave myself a moment to really think again about why I do this ride, I was all the more committed to the goal. On the rest of the ride down 24th Street and Osborn, I was determined that although I was ending today's ride, I would keep pedaling to bring an end to HIV and AIDS.

I want to take a moment to add that I am so proud of all of our new cyclists from Phoenix. You are in for the experience of a lifetime. We're going to have a good time out there on the road and I'm so glad to have so many good friends to laugh with and shoulders to cry on. This year is going to be the most emotional year yet. I can feel it already. Pack tissues, friends.