[flatbutt]

I wrote this some 10 years ago when I finally regained enough control over my arms and legs to safely ride a bicycle. [This is not a plea for contributions. But maybe this will motivate some to ride in the name of those who suffer.

...There is an enormous difference between living in the world rather than just on it. It is the difference between reading about someone else’s life and actually living your own life. Our lives are largely lived on the inside of ourselves. And sadly, mostly taking some very important things for granted.

The gift of mobility is one the things we take for granted. I know I did. Why not? It’s not something we think about. We learn to do it by the time we’re one year old and really there is no reason to think about it afterwards. Right? That’s natural. Until you’re blessed with an incident that makes you think about it. What if you couldn’t walk? Just imagine all of the things you couldn’t do. And what if the malady that robs you of your legs also takes your arms as well? What then? Well that’s what Multiple Sclerosis does.

I’ve had the rare privilege and, perhaps, what might be considered an unfair advantage over many people. I’ve had the experience of losing my mobility for a significant time and then was gifted by regaining it. So I know what it feels like to be bed ridden. I still can’t run or ski, skate, surf or even walk steadily. But by some miracle I can peddle a bicycle. I celebrate the gift I was given by riding my bicycle everywhere I can.


On my bicycle my senses are energized with the reality of being alive. The feel of my leg muscles as they push over the top of my pedal stroke is a palpable reminder that I am moving by my own power, by my own will. My legs are like pistons and my desire is the spark firing them. The push of the handlebars against my hands as the bike leaps forward in response to that leg stroke makes me feel like a low flying bird skimming very near the ground.

The air is now my medium. I can lean upon it and it feels as much a part of me as my own skin. The differences in temperature engage me intimately as I move through shadow into light and back again. Fragrances of trees, flowers and grass fill my head and swirl around as though I were lying in a meadow instead of floating through the scenery. And for all of the speed of their passage, their impact on my mind is all the more acute.

This is what the gift of mobility brings to my life. I would like everyone to know such moments. And this is one of the powerful motivators that compels me to ride each year in the name of those afflicted with Multiple Sclerosis. I need your help to bring this hope to realization. If you’d please support me in my quest to help find a cure by making a donation, I promise I will keep doing my part. I will show up every year and ride the 150 miles on my bicycle so that those who can’t ride may at least still hope.