Today was a beautiful day.  I’m not just referring to the fact that it was a perfect, 75 degree day in the Midwest in October.  Mostly I am referring to the beautiful souls that I got to spend part of my day with.

One of my favorite memories from my youth, was my dad picking me up from softball practice and we would listen to Paul Harvey tell “the rest of the story” as we drove home.  If you read my post last week about Pedal the Cause, you’re now going to get “the rest of the story”.

On Sunday morning, I was up bright and early…well, that’s not entirely true.  It was so early that it wasn’t bright at all, in fact, it was still dark.  I dropped the kids at their dad’s and watched the sunrise over St. Louis as I drove down 40.  I knew I had probably over-estimated how much time I needed, but since I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing, how parking would be and what the packet pick-up situation was, I didn’t want to feel stressed.  I was also hoping to catch Teri before she pedaled off for 50 miles, which left an hour before my 25 mile ride.

As I neared downtown, I noticed a car in front of me with a bike on the back, so I figured they knew where they were going.  I made the right call following them, since they led me to a stellar parking spot about a block from the PTC Village (and it was free!)  As I was heading over to pick up my packet, I got a text from Wes, so I offered to grab his stuff as well.  Once I had our gear, I went to find Teri, who was right where her email said she would be, near the corral, with distinctive blue star balloons guiding the way.

I figured with all of the chaos of the weekend Teri probably hadn’t found time to read my last post, but I should know by now to never under-estimate this woman.  The first thing she said when she saw me was how much she appreciated it.  And that she wanted to go with me to Inga’s chemo appointment.  Goosebumps.

After I chatted with a couple other friends and Teri set off on her ride, I headed back over to my car to get myself assembled and meet Wes.  We put stickers on bikes and helmets, pinned on bib numbers and gathered whatever we needed and then set off back toward the village.  Once we got over there, we found snacks, a port-o-potty, coffee (yay!) and our friend Roberto, who has the annoying habit of being such a fantastic cyclist that he can ride around through a crowd while holding hot coffee.  After commenting on this, I promptly bumped into someone with my bike, and all I was doing was standing there.  I apologized and then told Wes that I should probably just walk around wearing a big sign that says, “I’m sorry.”

Eventually we found our way into the start corral, had someone take our picture and tried to stay warm in the sun.  It was a chilly morning, one that runners kill for on race day, but cyclists not so much.  However, Pedal the Cause isn’t a race so much as a ride to benefit cancer research.  Or maybe it was just the non-cyclist in me that wanted to believe it wasn’t a race.  Wes teased me about how nervous I was.  True, I was completely out of my element.

Finally we were off.  We headed west out of the downtown area, past Forest Park (where I very nearly jumped off my bike and went for a run) and through Clayton.  It was at about that point that I told Wes it was time to pick up the pace.  I thought he was right behind me.  I thought wrong.

The ride itself was mostly uneventful, other than just being a beautiful ride.  Despite Grey’s assessment that it was a flat course, there were a considerable amount of hills.  Perhaps in comparison to Wildwood it was a flat course, but it didn’t feel flat.  I could have done without the moment that the cop directing traffic through the intersection at Forest Park Parkway and 170 decided to have me stop and let the cars turn left in front of me, where I had to break hard and unclip quickly and very nearly crashed and burned.  As I eventually went on through the intersection, he yelled an apology because he hadn’t seen me.  Well, at least he wasn’t “trying” to get me killed.  Yikes.

The best part of the ride was, without a doubt, hearing other riders on the course yell “Yay, Team Teri!” when they saw my Powered by Hope jersey.  It’s a pretty incredible feeling to be a part of a team named for a really incredible woman.

As I headed back up Chestnut to the finish, the sun was shining on the arch and there was a big US flag held between two Fire Truck ladders flying over the shoot.  It was picturesque and for a moment I considered dismounting my bike to capture the moment with my phone.  But instead I let the cheers of the crowd pull me to the finish where I received a medal for my efforts of the day. That hardly seemed necessary.  I rode a bike.  The people I rode for are all fighting cancer.  They are the ones who deserve the medal.

I waited for Wes at the finish and we hung out a little bit before I had to head back to the valley to spend the day at work and he had to catch a flight to DC.  We both agreed what a great event it was and that we are planning to rope all of our friends into doing it with us next year.

Flash forward to today.

After an early staff meeting and a brief Mat Science class (Thanks Courtney!) I made my way over to St. Luke’s to join Inga at her chemo appointment.  I sat in the waiting room until Inga was ready for me to join her.  We went into the Infusion room, found a spot and I proceeded to tell Inga stories about all kinds of stuff from training and racing to our small world connection of both knowing Steve.  Occasionally I worried that I was too loud.  I know, imagine that. Me?  Loud?  And I definitely wondered if I was too hyper.  I’m always hyper.  But before I knew it, an hour had passed, and I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard Teri’s voice tease that I never call or respond to texts.  Unfortunately, my service wasn’t great in the hospital.  But fortunately, Teri is resourceful enough that she found us anyway.  I wasn’t positive she would make it, but as usual, she didn’t let me down.

Teri has a way of lighting up a room.  Even a chemo infusion room.  I introduced my friends.  We talked about kids and families.  We talked about training and racing.  Teri told us about an amazing woman she had met who has continued to compete in triathlons after becoming an amputee.

They talked about various types of drugs and other cancer related topics that I don’t fully understand.  But I sat and listened.  And I was amazed at their strength.  Totally different women, fighting totally different battles.  Teri’s strength is very in your face (in a good way).  I mean, the woman does Ironman triathlons.  That’s in your face strong.  And Inga is the picture of quiet strength.  She smiles as she tells the nurse that she needs a later appointment time next week so she can put her kids on the bus.  And she remains positive after 70 chemo treatments.  And she never stops believing.  Despite their differences, these women draw their strength from the same source.  They are both Powered by Hope.

One of the things I rattled on and on about today with Inga is my excitement over the Chicago Marathon that I will be running this weekend.  I can hardly contain myself.  My anticipation and adrenaline are higher than ever.  I’m so ready to go do this.  The weather forecast looks great.  My best friend will be on the course with me.  And I’m healthy.  I’m healthy…

As Teri told the story about her triathlete friend, Karen Aydelott, I couldn’t help but think that when I start to hurt on Sunday, when I feel like I don’t feel like running anymore because the pain is too great, I will think of these amazing women and the strength and courage it takes to overcome the pain they face on a daily basis.

As we were about to leave today, another patient sat down in the chair next to us.  Her name was Brenda and she seemed terrified.  Inga tried to put her at ease saying, “This is a good place.  They’re going to take good care of you here”.  I’m so glad to know that my sweet friend is in good hands.  But knowing how strong her faith is, I should have already known that.

I made it back to my car today before I started crying.  They weren’t tears of fear or sadness or doubt, but tears of feeling overwhelmed with gratitude and unbelievably blessed at the opportunity to have these women in my life.  And to bring them together today and get a glimpse of what it truly looks like to be Powered by Hope.  And if that doesn’t carry me through 26.2 miles on Sunday, I just don’t know what will.

And now you know the rest of the story.  Rambling Runner Girl…Good day.

Teri and RRG at Pedal the Cause 2013