Blog # 2

My bike and I are currently having a small disagreement about whether brakes are an essential feature. 😬

I’m in the middle of replacing the hydraulic brakes, the parts have arrived, there has been drama, and my bike is temporarily out of commission.

But I’m not! 😊

My 75 km will be completed. It may involve a little more bike surgery than originally anticipated, but I’m still here, still fundraising, and still determined to finish this challenge.

And Kick Cancer’s Butt Day was AMAZING. You helped me raise another $250, bringing me to just about $36 away from my $500 fundraising goal!

So while I figure out which hose goes where and attempt not to accidentally bathe myself in mineral oil, the fundraising continues. 😂

75 km. $500. One temporarily brakeless bicycle.

We’re getting there. 🚲♥️

Cancer doesn’t get the last word.

Cancer disrupts everyday things

Today I rode my bike to run errands.

Myles needed indoor sneakers for school in September, and I found him a pair that are pretty darned cute. I needed markers. I also did some completely unnecessary dopamine shopping while I was there, because apparently arriving by bicycle does not prevent me from finding things at Superstore that I suddenly desperately require.

Then I stopped at the studio.

P and J are working magic in there right now, although currently the “magic” looks an awful lot like chaos. 😂 I think P was initially concerned I was going to walk in and be horrified by the state of everything.

I was completely unphased.

Things are being built. Things are changing. Sometimes the middle of making something better looks like an absolute disaster.

And all of these completely ordinary things happened because today, instead of getting in my car, I got on my bike.

I’m riding in the Great Cycle Challenge this month, raising money to fight kids’ cancer.

And I’ve been thinking a lot about the word disruption.

Cancer disrupts everyday things.

Illness disrupts everyday things.

It doesn’t wait until life has cleared some space for it.

Kids still need sneakers for school. Groceries still need buying. Work still happens. Families still need you. There are markers to buy and studios to renovate and approximately seventeen things you forgot you were supposed to do before lunchtime.

For most of my life, cancer hadn’t directly touched my immediate family.

And then my Nanny got cancer.

It happened during an already enormous season of my life. Myles was coming home. Steve became seriously ill. Our entire world changed.

There are parts of that time that aren’t my story to tell.

But I can tell mine.

I can tell you that I learned how much illness changes the gravity in a family. How much can be happening underneath perfectly ordinary days. How you can be buying groceries, raising a kid, answering messages, going to work and doing all the things you’re supposed to do while something enormous is happening at the same time.

My Nanny is one of the biggest supporters I have.

And maybe that’s part of why this challenge means something different to me now.

On her fridge is a little hand-drawn card from one of her littlest neighbours, telling her to “be strong” and reminding my Nanny that she could beat cancer, just like she had.

That little girl already knows something about cancer that no little kid should have to know.

But there she is, on the other side of it, drawing cards for somebody else.

I’m not trying to suddenly become A Cyclist™.

I’m just trying to choose my bike when I could choose my car.

Because I want more little girls to get to be on the other side of cancer.

To grow up.

To draw cards.

To inspire Nannys.

Today, that meant buying Myles’ first little indoor school sneakers. Getting some markers. Doing some dopamine shopping. Visiting P and J in the construction-zone-formerly-known-as-my-studio.

Completely ordinary things.

Cancer disrupts ordinary days.

So this month, I’m going to use some of mine to ride.

$206 raised so far. 💜

And a few more ordinary kilometres on the bike. 🚲