Guilty Pleasures

When you start a blog it seems that above all honesty is truly the best policy. So here it goes;

I have some serious guilty pleasures. Okay, nothing that will get me arrested, but I may as well tell the truth.

1. I have never seen a plate of baked goods that doesn't cry out to me. I used to buy 14 bagels so that I could eat 1 on the way home and never get busted. I can't resist sitting in the car knowing that the warm body next to mine is a dozen hot bagels.

This may explain why in my month of training I have not lost 1 single pound. In fact I have gained.

I actually look thinner but I have gained weight. I know for most people this would be traumatic, but as a cancer patient gaining weight is actually reassuring. Prior to my first cancer one of the only significant symptoms was a gradual weight loss. Since I am being truthful, I should also tell you that I never looked better. The weight loss made me look svelte, not sickly. I actually looked so good that, promise not to groan, I went out and had my passport pictures and drivers license pictures taken. Hell I figured that I would never look this thin or this good again. Little did I know it was due to cancer. Go figure.

2. I love coasting. Serious cyclists actually pedal when they are going downhill. You are supposed to get into a slower gear so that you can pedal and gain momentum. Forget it. My favorite part of hills is coasting downhill. Wind blowing in your face, it is truly my Dicaprio moment where I want to scream "I'm the king of the World" as I fly downhill at 40+ kms an hour. I figure that we go through most of our lives feeling like we are always pedaling uphill, granted its a gradual hill, but uphill non the less. So if its okay with you when life actually give you an opportunity to coast; then coast baby coast.

3. I will never be an underwear model. I have always joked that my day job better work out because after all these surgeries the scars on my body have pretty much ruled out my backup career. After my first operation, I mentioned to Harvey that I had always heard that scars give you an allure of mystery, they add character. " Yeah Sam small scars on your face" he replied " Not ones that make you look like you got caught in the propeller of a boat". We had a good laugh. Boy did we laugh.

So what have I learned? Eat what you want, life is too short, and the next time you are eating a warm bagel...think of me. Coast when you can, you have my permission, hell if you're like me your entitled to the occasional break. Laugh. Laugh and then Laugh some more. Even in the darkest moment there is probably something worthing laughing at.

By the way if you want a good laugh, a chance to eat and to coast for an afternoon, then let me know because on July 23rd, we are hosting a Cedars Riders Fundraising Comedy Lunch at Bice hosted by Caroline Rhea and Michael Kors. Tickets are $150.00 and you will receive a $100.00 tax receipt. I can send you details if you are interested.

Incidentally this week I rode 77.2 kms, 3 hours 13 minutes, and we surpassed the 50% mark in fundraising. Thank you to all who have donated, it is greatly appreciated.

It's Bette Midler's fault

I have been a huge Bette Midler fan for years. If secrets be known, I used to listen to the Divine Miss M every Sunday morning for years. She is bawdy, outrageous and a damn good singer. That doesn't preclude the fact that for a fleeting moment I actually blamed her for my cancer.

I know you're thinking lets back this up just a wee bit. Okay, here goes.

Bette and I have been missing each other over the years on her concert tours. It always seemed that whenever she was in town, I wasn't. So in January 2004 I finally made the pilgrimage to see her in NYC at Madison Square Gardens. Enough waiting, if the mountain won't come, then I was going to the mountain.

So that January weekend as the group of 6 walked the streets of NYC I confessed to a friend that I thought something was wrong. For about 2 months the strangest thing was happening. Each night my toes and legs would go into complete spasm. My grandfather had a neuropathy with his legs and I was pretty sure that regardless of my young age, I had something in common with this 90 year old man. That night after an amazing concert I made the statement that would haunt me; "Now that I've seen Bette Midler, I can die a happy man".

Within the week I had been diagnosed with kidney cancer. For a moment, albeit a fleeting insane moment, I actually blamed myself for making that statement.

Over the years I have come to understand a lot about self blame.

My tumor was ridiculously large, clearly Bette had nothing to do with it. It had been growing for approx 3 years to reach that size. I kept wondering if I had somehow missed a symptom.

Wondering if I had done something to bring on this mutant multiplying cell. In one humorous exchange with my doctor I needed to clarify how I had missed it, so I asked him if there was some symptom I had ignored.

" Did you have blood in your urine?" he asked. " No" I replied, I know that's not good.

" Well did you have lower back pain?" he asked. " Well I answered, I'm 44 years old, do you mean Oy Vey I have back pain, or OH MY GOD I'M GONNA DIE back pain." When he qualified it as the second I realized that there was nothing I had done or could have done to avoid getting cancer. I had to make peace with the fact that neither I, nor Bette, were to blame for my current state of health.

I've spoken to a few cancer patients and it is always amazing how many people ask you if you smoked. I realize that in doing so they are trying to give themselves hope, that somehow they are safe, that somehow this can't happen to them. The reality is that it could and it might, so whatever you do lets leave the blame game out of it, cancer patients are going through enough.

Whatever happened to empathy?

Last week at my surprise party someone gave me the latest Bette Midler CD and today I actually had the courage to open it. As tears welled in my eyes I once again sang Friends with all the gusto I could muster. Thanks Bette, 5 years later all is forgiven.

New Milestones

Today's revelation is that...get ready...."I'm not telepathic". Not only that, but you'll never believe this "Fern is not telepathic either". Maybe you're not surprised but like many couples I think our biggest frustration is that the other person just doesn't know what we're thinking. Well, after 17 years is that too much to ask for? Is it?

I haven't been able to find enough time to train for the ride and I can feel September 11th quickly approaching. The weekends seem far apart and even then my ride on Sunday in the heat was less than satisfying. This has been causing a little bit of anxiety and I could only find one solution. So I took the big leap and told Fern that I needed to find time during the week to ride. Ruling out after work, that meant a revision of our morning schedules. We will have to share the morning dog walking obligations. I have decided that in June I will add a 6:15 morning ride. Wednesday was Fern's first day at the helm.

I awoke, let Roxie out in the back and then dressed for my ride. She look at me as if questioning "Are your really going to wear that to the dog park?" You could see the embarrassment in her eyes. "Don't worry" I said " Today...you're all Fern's".

With that I hobbled out of the house (you don't walk in cycling shoes..you hobble), unaware that on June 17th, new milestones were to be reached.

I mounted my bike and rode, and rode and folks... I did it 70 kms and all that before breakfast!

From Montreal West through Lachine to John Abbott College in St Anne de Bellevue and back.

Not only were the kms important, but I broke a mental milestone..at the end of the ride I rode all the way home, up the "maudite" hill that joins Ville St. Pierre and Montreal West, with barely a hesitation.

However the most important milestone was to come at the end of the day. My dear sister, Sabina, called to let me know that after 8 years her oncologist had let her know that they felt that she no longer needed to be followed medically for her original breast cancer. After 8 years our family's first cancer experience was to be buried. Buried but never forgotten.

I think I was more nervous than her. She was ready to make the move and recommence living.

And so we celebrate on this beautiful sunny June day as 3 milestones are broken...heaps of rubble in the road, markers of the past, that we pass with an acknowledging nod, as we push on forward...hopefully always moving forward.

Let me know if you want to join me for a morning ride, after all, breakfast awaits.

Stronger Together

Ron and Arthur died.

Carmen and Mel died.

They all died way too young, and with so much more to offer. Eirini was very close to Ron and Arthur and I remember talking about their passing and she worried if they ever found peace. She was hopeful that they had. I remember thinking about the concept of finding peace in a terminal illness, especially when you are so young. Can it really be possible?

I remember not talking to Carmen about her imminent death, she forbade it.

I begged Carmen to write for her daughter and I bought her a journal. We never spoke about whether or not she wrote, I never knew. Last year i saw her daughter and she asked me to tell her a little about her mother. It broke my heart. " Just tell me a little Sam she said, because I try but I don't remember". It's then that she told me all she has to hold onto is the journal that Carmen wrote in, the journal that she new I had given her mother. I realized that in her own way she had found peace. She had allowed herself to write, to leave her story for her daughter.

I wonder a lot about the process of finding peace. When I was diagnosed I never went through the "Why Me" phase. I know some people do, but I didn't. I often said that it would be too egotistical to always pass in front of the hospital and to somehow never expect that it could be you. Why someone else and not me?

I realize that having lived through the worst of the AIDS disaster somehow prepared me for loss, but having lived through that period also taught me about finding strength in numbers. We stood together.

In the last few years we have been dissecting cancer into infinite subsegments. We have divided the disease into so many small pieces, somehow obliging people to decide if they support: Breast, Colon, Lung, Prostate, Ovarian......

I wonder if we wouldn't be stronger if we all fought together. If we walked and rode and hiked together, and not apart.

Maybe if we all joined together we could really find peace together. Maybe.

On September 11th I ride for all Cancers...thank you for your support.

When Worlds Collide

On June 10th my worlds collided and the halo effect will be felt for the rest of my life.  

Working their magic, Karen, Andrea W., and Sandy brought some wonderful friends together to support my ride and to surprise the hell out of me.  My Facebook had been compromised!

Expecting a lovely private tete a tete evening with Sandy, I was lured into a web of love.

I really thought we were going out for a private dinner to catch up and make some plans.  "Just the two of us" Sandy kept repeating....okay message was clear.

We left our Cedars meeting with co-conspirator Leonard in attendance and headed off to play.  Sandy and I had spoken during the day, and my attire became a subject for discussion which I put off as this new Hot Rebel with a Cause person she has become, and  who I adore.  I knew we were headed for a funky, artsy evening....just how ARTSY I never guessed.

After drinks we head out and Sandy tells me that we need to get to Notre Dame.  Hmmm, Notre Dame, that means either Joe Beef or Liverpool House, and frankly I am dressed for either so no problem.   I direct her to the street and as we are driving along it is I, not Sandy who says..."Hey what time are our restaurant reservations?"  "8:00 why she answered",

I jumped in with all the well intentions in the world " Well you know my friend Karen's art gallery is right nearby, do you mind if we stop in?'  No Sandy replies, we have a few minutes".

I call Karen thinking perhaps she is in the gallery as sometimes she works late or is having a vernissage for the public. OUR LUCKY DAY. Karen is still in the gallery and tells me to hurry as she is planning to leave soon as she has her own plans.  Well we were right on the corner, we parked and after all we only had 15 minutes before our own dinner reservations so everything was working out perfectly....or so I thought.

Karen met us downstairs, beautifully dressed ( she had her own dinner plans), and escorted us up to the gallery.  We talked of the architecture, the space and her beautiful art posters.

Karen's gallery is a beautiful showcase of  Poster Art, magnificent pieces from Europe and North America that are both antiques and yet contemporary.  She showcases these works of art in 3 separate rooms that act as individual galleries.  www.laffichiste.com

As we pass the first gallery I noticed a large amount of uneaten food and I was flooded with disappointment as I surmised that Karen had arranged a vernissage and no one had attended.

Before I had a chance, people jumped out of everywhere screaming SURPRISE.  My mind went into shock.  All I could think of was that this was a SURPRISE PARTY for Sandy, after all I noticed Leonard, Andrea, Anna, Suzanne, Ingrid...but how come I was so surprised?????  If it was for Sandy how come I didn't know about it??  How did we get here since after all it was my suggestion to stop at Karen's gallery, and it all seemed so random and spontaneous...WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON!   Only when I saw my morning dog friends " The Hingston Gang", did I start to figure out that this was for me.   I must have repeated 'I am so confused' at least 1000 times, and I truly was.  I kept going over in my mind how I had gotten here and how Sandy manipulated me into suggesting to stop, but it was truly spontaneous and random....It was just meant to be!

So here on June 10th my worlds collided and in this moment of love I reached an epiphany.   Those times that I am at peace when I am riding alone and feel free, I'm not really alone.  The power pushing my legs and my body, is the power of 100's.

I realized that this ride is really not about me riding with Lance Armstrong.  For me and for my friends, it is about Lance Armstrong riding with Sam Pelc.  I leave it up to you to decide who is the lucky one, but for me the answer became quite clear on June 10th, 2009.

Thank you to all the co-conspirators, there will never be enough words for me to express my gratitude.  Thank you to the kids and staff at Share the Warmth for the wonderful banner and photo of encouragement, I will be sure to have it at the starting line on September 11th.

A most personal Thank You to Karen for your generosity and hospitality, Thank You Giulian for being my BF and for being he ultimate host,  Thank You PFP Andrea for your friendship and kindness, Thank you Simon for being the person that everyone loves, and Thank You Sandy for working your magic and getting us to a place without me having the slightest idea of where or why we were going there,  and always encouraging me to reach higher. Thank You.

The Eternal Optimist

Growing up my father had a record of Dr. Murray Banks who was pop psychologist at the time, and who told a story of 2 brothers, the pessimist and the optimist.  Their father was concerned about this diversity so he takes some serious measures, and for the optimist he is told to give him a room full of manure to cure his joyfulness.  The boy walks into the rooms and in a shriek of glee screams " oh my  goodness a room full of manure...you can't fool me, where there is this much manure, there has to be a pony".  

I saw myself in that boy, I was the optimist.

I thought of that during the Tour de L'isle as we reached KM 50 and in front of us was the hill at Berri.  People shouted from the sidelines in encouragement, I gritted by teeth, and pedaled as fast as I could.  I was going to make it up that hill, my personal pile of manure!  

This was a great cycling weekend.  My goals were attained.  Saturday I wanted to do 40kms and again in a weird turn of fate, just prior to leaving the house I had a little online chat with Tracy that was both inspiring and encouraging.  I jokingly told her that I was going to ride from my area to Beaconsfield and back.  Truthfully, I had no idea how far that was, but I did know that it was "car far".  So I set out and made a mental commitment to do 20kms in each direction or to go as far as the Beaconsfield sign, whichever is further.  As luck would have it at 2okms I was at Tracy's street, and the coincidence was not lost on me.  I rode around the crescent and turned around to head home.  Another time that fate smiled upon me.  I really enjoy riding alone, it gives me the time to clear my mind and enjoy the beauty of our city.  

Note to self: Don't try to clip into your bike as you are heading downhill into oncoming traffic, I fell again.

The next morning were the throngs of people for the Tour de L'isle. This was to be my first 50+ ride.  "That's not casual".  So I entered the fray, and set off on my personal goal to finish the ride in a respectable time.  The Tour is actually a celebration of riding and once I was able to separate myself from the masses, I enjoyed the freedom of riding through the streets completely oblivious to stop lights and signs.  Free to ride, free to challenge myself, free to embrace my optimism.  2.5 hours later mission accomplished, and I am happy to report relatively unscathed.  Sore, you better believe it, but still convinced that on September 11th I will nail the 100kms with the gang.  For the record I rode a total 62.1 kms.

I am happy to report that I have reached 1/3 of my fundraising goals thanks to your generous donations.  I guess I could see the cup as 2/3 empty but that is not in my personality.   

A little bit stubborn, okay more than a little bit controlling, but really fundamentally I remain the eternal optimist.  If I wasn't I never would have put on the lycra in the first place.

So stay tuned as I try to break my next goal of 70 kms.  Please support Cedars and my ride by  sponsoring us at www.tourdelance.ca and feel free to tell friends about the blog.  I have received some wonderful emails from cancer patients who feel empowered by the journey.  Thank you for your kind comments.

Lost Sleep

I had the infamous "Callback" this week.  Many friends with breast cancer have been down this path but for me it was the first: " Hi, this is Dr. Smith's office, we received the results of your ( fill in the blank) chest xray and he would like to see you, Please call back to setup an appointment."

My call came on the answering machine, leaving me a whole night to ruminate over the last 5 years.  Chest xray I said...shit, I haven't had an xray since March when we got back from China and the verbal analysis was good.  I actually went in for the xray because during our trip I got sick and was coughing incessantly.  Took the antibiotics but the cough lasted, and that was followed by some serious pain on the left side.

My mind went into overdrive wondering what it could be, and knowing that freaking out was not going to help.  When I called in the morning all they would tell me is that the Dr. would like to see you, but not to panic.  TOO LATE!  I have learned long ago that it is not whether or not you are going to panic, you will, it is how you are going to manage the panic.

For me it has been about doors.  I create a mental image of a long line of doors and I tell myself that I can only go through 1 door at a time.  When my mind flies to the last, most horrific prospect, I really do try to bring it back to door one.  Don't get me wrong you spend a lot of time thinking, but dealing with one door at a time is the way that has worked for me.

I thought about my friends who have had breast exams only to be subjected to the Callback.  I know the angst they felt and I know that usually it was not great news.  Frankly the mental challenge has been hard enough over the years during that interminable period between testing and results, but we have managed, not always unscathed but we have managed.

And so I waited, sitting mentally in front of the door waiting for it to open and for me to deal with whatever is on the other side, its like a twisted reality game show.

The Door opened and after 2 months of waiting and 1 weak of angst they confirmed that I had "broken a rib".  What????  Who the hell cares???? That was 2 months ago!  Are you kidding me?  Well folks, I tapdanced through that door.  After an emotional release (good cry) in the car from the week long anxiety I then shut this door firmly behind me.

I mentally locked all the remaining doors until August.  I am going to Lini's wedding and nothing is going to stop me. I realize that my emotions from this whole week were about the possibility of me not being able to attend, and for me that would be a trainwreck.

So today I ride, the goal is 40 kms and tomorrow will be the Tour De L'isle (55kms).  

I am riding to feel free, to feel alive, and to look at those line of doors behind me and not in front of me for a change!  And to Lenore, get ready we are really going to party!!!!

Feel free to pass my blog along to anyone you know who may enjoy my journey.  Remember you can ask your friends to donate to my ride at www.tourdelance.ca , pick riders, and then pick my name.  Thanks.

Trying to find Balance!

Why is everyone so serious all the time.  I think when we are born we should be given a limited amount of minutes expendable for any one single emotion, and when we are done...time to change our emotional range.  We all know people who are miserable all the time, don't you think after about 30 years they would have used up their miserable moments?  Same thing goes for serious! Cyclists take biking as a very serious matter.  You would think that after everything I bought, I would be done...wrong again.  It appears I haven't scratched the surface.  Now I have a bike rack, and am putting together the repair kit (I am looking for the Jewish repair kit, the one with a phone number where you call someone else to fix it, the CAA for cyclists), and the nutritional supplements and boosters you need for long rides.  Yes folks we are doing another home renovation as it seems I need a new pantry now that I am a CYCLIST.   

I have determined that I am not a big fan of city cycling, way too many moving objects hurtling towards me.  So with some advise from Peter I scoured the Beaconsfield Cycling Club site to search for circuits and tours that sound interesting.  I encourage you to look at this site if you plan to cycle for 2 reasons, I think the concept is good, but really, it's because I can't figure out these maps!!! 

 I have a friend who lives on Ile Bizard so I thought what a great idea.  I opened the map and was completely confused. Arrows in every direction, numbers in appearingly random orders....don't they know I'm almost 50!  I need clarity or a GPS at least.  

With a great sigh I realized why SERIOUS cyclists ride in a peloton.  I see them every morning at the corner of Sherbrooke and Westminster.  It's because only 1 person actually knows what   the route is...the rest are just following.  They are probably the older gang and as map challenged as I am.  That also explains why they look so serious, they are scared to death to be left behind in the peloton, because they won't know where the hell they are! I now also understand why in the Tour they follow a car....he's got the map!

So lighten up folks, its only cycling and supposed to be fun.  As for me you will find me cycling around in Hudson....it's the only map I could actually figure out!

In the near future...my rant about cycling attire!

Check out www.clubcycliste.com, if you have insight or want to drive my personal lead car...feel free to let me know.