here you have it

quote of the day

... goes to dan, who, announcing his departure of the shamrock bar last night/this morning, leans over the bar to where i'm washing dishes and says,

"i just wanted to let you know how much ass you kick. it's like cubic meters. goodnight!"

thanks for making my night, dan.

feelin' it (this is the corniest post ever)

it's been a long time, but i'm starting to feel like myself again. school and work and relationships and social navigations can be difficult when they're all trying you at the same time. but i'm starting to feel awesome again. i feel like i've just topped a hill and am getting my legs back and am starting that sweet downward acceleration into what looks like at least a 3 week straightaway.

or maybe it's that, ever since michelle gave me all those cheesy songs for the pillow fight last weekend, i begin every morning with eye of the tiger and pink's 18 wheeler, both of which can make a person feel invincible. (by the way, said pillow fight, organized by said michelle and myself, raised $1102 for the AIDS network, in addition to each of our ACT ride contributions!)

in any case, it's awesome to feel awesome.

"you can push me out the window
i'll just get back up
you can run over me with your 18 wheeler truck
and i wont give a fuck
...
you can run over me with your 18 wheeler but
you cant keep me down
cant keep me down
...
everywhere that i go
theres someone waitin to chain me
everything that i say
theres someone tryin to short-change me
i am only this way
because of what you have made me
and i'm not gonna break"

- pink : 18 wheeler

yes, this is the corniest post ever. oh, i'm so going there. this is what happens when i get home from an awesome game of hockey, just to hang out and get tipsy with a group of awesome people.

also, listen to imperial drag's staring into the sun
i don't pay attention to the lyrics, but that guitar and bass part are enough to make anyone feel awesome. it should be everyone's morning commute theme.

imagine what would happen to the world if we all woke up every morning feeling awesome.

ok one more set of corny and awesome lyrics, because this is my blog and i'm drunk and at least i'm not texting/calling you. seriously, it's 2am right now...

"how would it be if everything that you thought you knew
was turned upside down opposite from your point of view
how would you feel if the ground was really the sky
and all of this time you’ve been walkin’
when you coulda been flying
...
what if all the birds were flying just to show us
all the trees were really holdin’ the sky up
everything that you do matters somehow
what if heaven and hell was right now

how would it be if you really created your life?
stories you told, the good and bad, that they come alive
and how would it change if your words were like nails and wood?
you build your house, but you forget that it’s just a house
you can rebuild it
...
what if loving what you have is everything?
...
if you knew you could not fail
if the ground was really sky
would you stop walkin’ right now
would you let yourself
what if everything you think is the opposite of true
how would it change your life?
how would you change your life?"

-ellis : how would it be?

holy crap, here's a video!

(the radio edit is waaaay better than the live version. watch it anyway.)

and since we're already on youtube, check out the ditty bops, who i am going to see at the barrymore this friday!

"when you're standing in a puddle with wet feet
and your head is sore from pounding drops of sleet
when the cold and lonely hours put your heart to the test
maybe i'll be the one that you like best"

- the ditty bops : wishful thinking

ok, it's time for bed.

ACT 5: by the numbers (and then some)

1: number of times i wrote this post last week, made it beautiful, and then accidentally closed my browser window before the thing actually got saved, thereby losing it forever. was too busy to attempt a re-post until now. here 'goes...

307ish: miles ridden on my bike.

4: days.

140ish: riders.

around 80: crew.

around 220ish divided by 4: average number of people per day who became my family.

over 300,000: dollars raised for the AIDS Network.

35: my rider number.

2: times i cried (once for barbara mckinney, who is the mother of mike mckinney, who was a huge advocate for social issues and an ACT rider who died in 2006. once for rider zero at closing ceremonies. it's the bagpipes' fault.)

3: pounds of home made cookies that my sister and brother in law brought to me from minnesota after closing ceremonies.

about 100,000: hills climbed on the 4th day.

4: massages.

1: times i had the chiropractor "release" my left shoulder.

0.1: minutes it took the amazing and magical chiropractor to perform said "release." oh yeah, he was that good.

5: average number of messages that were on the email board for me every night.

3: average number of those messages that were from jayne.

20: dollars found on a random country road that i actually rode back up part of a hill to retrieve. i later returned it to a woman who had used an apparently unreliable pocket to carry something like $100 cash in, and somehow lost all of it at some undetermined point along that day's route.

and then some:

people keep asking me why i would do such a thing as beg friends and family and strangers for over $1,100 just to then ride 300 miles on my bike. seems lose-lose, right? so i helped to raise a ton of money for an amazing cause. reason enough, right? actually, no. i've heard chatter about the ACT rides for the last couple of years. it's an amazing experience, it's an amazing cause, yeah, yeah, yeah. honestly, there really wasn't one single event that resolved me to want to ride ACT5, i just did it. one night, studying, alone in my apartment, i went to the ACT5 web site and read through it again for the 50th time. this time, i clicked on "register" and didn't look back. the next day, i went to the shamrock bar to have a beer with gerry, who is also a rider. about half a second after the words, "i officially registered last night" came out of my mouth, felicia dropped what she was doing to tearfully smash me in between her boobs. she thanked me for riding and told me that she loves me for the journey i had just sent myself on. incase you've been waiting, here's the punchline: i started to tell felicia that i had just signed up because it felt like the right thing to do, even though i don't personally know anyone who is infected or affected by HIV or AIDS. she cut me off with a tender gasp, shaking her head, "oh yes you do, bri, if only you knew." and then it hit me. it could be anyone. my eyes looked out across the room at barstools full of strangers and friends. my stomach turned and my eyes fogged a little. it's everyone. felicia hugged me tight again, and i hugged her back. we sat down finished our beers.

so the ride:

yes, it was hard. but it was completely supported. stops with food and drink every 10 or 15 miles, massages at lunch and dinner, over 200 people spread out over the entire route to cheer eachother on. it was kindof great, actually. my only responsibilities for 4 whole days were eating, drinking, sleeping, showering, and biking. even then, my bike was taken care of when i was off of it, my luggage was lugged when i wasn't using it, and all of my food was prepared for me. brilliant! by the middle of the 2nd day, i actually started feeling nauseated when i wasn't on my bike and moving. you know, that feeling you get when you step on to solid ground after you've been on a boat all day? by the 3rd day, it was so bad that i could only hang out at pit stops so long before i felt sick, a feeling which went completely away as soon as i got back on my bike. by the end of the ride, i couldn't sit still long enough to make it through dinner.

yes, my ass was sore. actually, for the first two days, it was the very very sensitive tissue around my very very sensitive, most anterior "girly part." but after some posture adjustment and regular applications of the most amazing "chamois cream" ever, the swelling went down and i was fine. it was, however, the 4th day and several days thereafter that my ass reminded me, with a vengeance, that i had just ridden 300 miles on it. it was the weirdest delayed reaction ever.

yes, it totally sucked to get up at 5am just to be on my bike by 6. but sunrises were amazing. my favorite was the beginning of the second day with sunny mist over huuuuuge fields of corn and hay on softly rolling hills. i had not, however, planned for 6 am chill. even in august, it's apparently downright cold at the crack of dawn. i was fortunate enough to be lent a pair of arm warmers for the duration of the ride, by an amazingly kind woman who had packed them and a jacket. what a thinker! it just goes to show that over packing is a good idea. i also later became the recipient of a pair of leg warmers by another generous over-packer who took pity on me when i came into camp the day before soaking wet and nearly hypothermic (my palms were purple!) from the cold cold rain. shout out to the medics who wrapped me up in tin foil-esque mylar blankets like a frozen burrito, and to the woman who fetched my backpack to the locker room so that i could have warm and dry clothes after i was led directly from the mylar to a hot shower. it's amazing how random acts of kindness seem to save your life.

no, i didn't curse lora the route planner for all those hills. while it was completely heartbreaking to get to the top of a particularly nasty country road hill just to breathlessly look out over 3 more just like it, the small gestures of support that you get from your fellow riders and crew members wouldn't be the pillars of strength that they become without the complete emotional and physical exhaustion that 47 miles of repeated trial creates. in my mind, it's a sort of connection to the people i'm riding for, whoever they are.

yes, ACT5 did change my life: random acts of kindness, physically overcoming hills and fatigue, hugs, being told "thank you" and "i love you" a hundred times in 4 days, the senses of accomplishment and appreciation and camaraderie, and a hundred thousand other little memories of tears and smiles and my gym floor home and each and every one of my friends and family who were there in one way or another to lend a hand. my pores are filled with inspiration and a sense of purpose, the temporal limits of which have yet to be seen.

yes, there are links:
channel 27 news footage
storybridge.tv footage
the official photographer's site
actride.org

yes, i'm gonna post a picture right now.

behold: team takin' it easy, or: team takin' our sweet ass time
michelle, allison, yours truly, torch (aka, emily), jamie, victoria, vicki, katy, dave

and

yes, ACT6 is in my sights (see: words, famous last).

an incredible journey

everyone who knows me has known for some time that i am riding my very first ACT ride this year. felicia cried and hugged me, lots of people said "wow" or "good luck with that" in the sort of way that one does when the event sounds less appealing than mowing the lawn on the hottest day of the year, and lots more people pledged money to help me raise over $1700 for the AIDS Network.

it's less than 12 hours to opening ceremony, and i've registered, numbered my bike and helmet, and run my jersey through the wash. after watching the introductory/safety video at registration tonight, i can easily say that i am more proud to wear the jersey that i received tonight than i have ever been of any other jersey ever.

physically, i'd say i'm as ready as i'm going to get. i don't do a whole lot of distance biking, but i do commute (about a half an hour each way) every day on a one speed. i've also had about a liter each of water and gatorade today, and am working now on loading up on carbohydrates while i pack my bag.

emotionally, i'm ready for a rollercoaster. check this out, from the official site actride.org

who is rider zero?
rider zero represents those lost to HIV/AIDS. at the end of the day's ride, a bike without a rider is led into camp by a small group of people, which usually changes from day to day. the tradition is for riders and crew, all of whom are already at camp, to come out to the driveway and form a line on either side while rider zero is led in. an announcement is made in the school to let people know the last riders are coming into camp. whether you are eating dinner, setting up your bed for the night, or you are still in your riding gear, it is considered good form to drop what you are doing and join the tradition. it is a quiet moment when people reflect on the day and the people we're riding for.

last night, someone who i don't know came into the bar where i work with a check and wanted to give it to bob, the bartender who has ridden the ACT ride for the last 2 years, but can't this year. so bob gave the check to me. the handwriting was small and cursive, exactly like my grandma used to write, and in the memo line were the words, "in memory of brenda." i don't know the person whose name is on that check, or brenda, but i'm doing this because she can't.

i have a voice and i have an able body and i'll use it to help ease suffering.

so, to everyone who has donated money, bike parts, and labor to me and the rest of the ACT riders: THANK YOU.

wanna see it for yourself? volunteers and people to cheer on riders and crew are always in demand. visit actride@earthlink.net.

time to finish packing and try to get to bed early. 300 miles i can do, but getting up at 4am? suck.