Archives at Zinester: June 29, 2005 - Special Treat - Michael Smith. Storytime

The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world

Michael Smith

A buzzing to my left roused me from sleep. I groaned, rolled over and slapped the

"snooze" button. It was Saturday morning. The numbers on the face of the clock read

5:30 AM. I wanted to go back to sleep, but it wasn't possible. I had to wake up. It was the

weekend my son and I planned to bicycle across New Jersey.

I crawled from bed, banged on my son's door and headed to the shower. Thirty

minutes later, our bikes were loaded in the car, and we were on our way to Sandy Hook,

New Jersey, the starting point for the MS170, a grueling bicycle ride to Cape May, New Jersey, one hundred and seventy miles south. Cyclists ride individually or in teams. My

son and I were members of "Team Lisa," a great group of twenty-one people dedicated to

cycling and to raising funds for MS research.

This past May our team membership grew for six to eighteen riders. We raised

more than $31,000.00 in pledges and ranked 3rd in total team fund raising, an

accomplishment we are very proud of. For our efforts, our team was selected, as the

Mid-Jersey Chapter's: "TEAM OF THE YEAR".

Our team was named after Lisa Caltri, a wonderful young women who is one of

three in her family that have MS. Lisa has had MS for nine years, but is one of the most

active people you will ever meet. Her stage of MS enables her to be an avid sports

enthusiast and an inspiration to us all. She is a cyclist, racquetball player, and a spinning

instructor.
MS is a chronic, often disabling disease that attacks your nervous system. The

progress, severity, and specific symptoms of the disease cannot be predicted and

symptoms may range from numbness, paralysis, or blindness. Most people with MS are

diagnosed between the ages of 20 and 50, but the unpredictable physical and emotional

effects can last forever. This year, we cycled in honor of the nearly 15,000 New Jersey

residents and 400,000 Americans living with MS.

I have an aunt who has suffered with MS for more than 30 years. Just recently

one of her daughters was diagnosed with the disease, so I had a personal interest in this

ride.

In the parking lot, we met the other team members, most of whom we had never

met before. We checked our equipment, signed in and were soon on the road. The skies

were blue and the temperatures in the mid-60's. It was perfect weather for cycling. We

followed a well marked course through small towns and villages. Quite often the ocean

appeared on our left, as we followed the coastline. The roar of waves crashing onto the

beaches blocked the humming of our tires on the asphalt.

The ride was very well organized. There were rest stops every ten miles, where

riders could eat an energy bar, a banana, a slice of orange, or replenish their water bottles.

There were also support teams in vans covering the course to assist those who were hurt

or whose bikes needed mechanical work.

On Saturday, at about the forty mile mark, we stopped for lunch, met up with our

team again, and then back to the road. During the three weeks leading up to the ride I had

suffered with a bout of the flu and then a chest cold. I coughed so hard that I pulled

something in my chest. This had prevented me from training. I take a lot of spinning

classes, so I thought I would be OK.

At the sixty mile mark I was fine - a little tired but still feeling good. I had

another twenty-five miles to reach the end of the ride, where we would stop for the

night. At the seventy-five mile mark I was slowing down. My behind was hurting from

the seat; my legs were tiring, and my neck was stiffening.

Those last ten miles were the longest miles I have ever biked. I thought they

would never end. Pedaling down a lonely stretch of road, I saw color in the distance.

Without my glasses, it was hard to see what it was. When I got a little closer, I could tell

they were balloons, and I knew I had reached the end of the day's ride.

The most I have ever biked at one time was sixty-six miles. This was a new

personal best for me, however, it did take a toll on me. I was exhausted and dehydrated.

I sat in a corner, drank the remaining water in my camel pack, and then went for a

massage, which the MS Foundation had arranged for a small fee of $5.00. The lady I

approached, looked at me and said, "You are very flushed. Go sit down, and drink lots of

water."

I followed her advice. When I returned, she explained, "It is very dangerous to

give a massage to someone who is dehydrated. It could cause them to have a heart

attack."

Her words frightened me.

The next morning we were up at 5.00 AM to catch the 5:30 AM bus from our

hotel to the start point for the day. The MS Foundation provided a warm breakfast, but

I was still exhausted from the day before and had very little appetite. I ate what I could,

walked outside to my bicycle, and threw it all up.

The day was off to a bad start.

The skies were gray and a light rain was falling. The temperatures had dropped

during the night, and a light wind made it feel even colder. For the first twenty miles, I

plodded along at a steady pace, but far slower than the day before. At the thirty mile

mark I knew I wasn't going to be able to do the full eighty-five miles. I was feeling

weak and dehydrated.

I decided to call it a day when I reached the mid-point for the day. At the forty

mile mark, my speed had dropped to eight miles-per-hour, and my neck was so sore I

couldn't lift my head to see ahead. I swallowed my pride, pulled to the side, and waited

for assistance.

I was done.

A van transported myself and four other injured riders to the Cape May, where

we stood by the side of the road and cheered those who made the distance. The pride on

their faces was a beautiful thing to see. I wish I could have been one of them, but in my

heart I knew I had made the right decision. If I had continued in my condition, there is

no doubt in my mind, I would have collapsed.

I watched my son ride in. He was one of the first fifty riders to reach the end.

I have a lot of pride for my boy. He is seventeen and rode like a professional.

I am proud of myself, our team, and all those who participated in this event to

help find a cure for disease that needs a cure.

Thank you, "Team Lisa" for allowing me to be part of a very special weekend.

Michael Smith