Iconic Metal

My grandfather used to commemorate all of his major landmarks in his lifetime by the car he happened to be driving at the time. He loved his cars. He’d make references like, “I remember when…that was when I had my 52’ Plymouth”.

This past week, I ceremonially built up my 1999 custom painted Titanium Kona Hei Hei. Every year I pull this bike out, I fall in love with it all over again. There is special meaning and emotions connected to this bike.

I have been blessed with great sponsors and help with a sport that I otherwise could never afford to have the latest and greatest. I am very thankful for every new bike I’ve attained each season. However, despite their pretty looks and high performance, these days my bikes have become more of a tool rather than a jewel.

I had worked all summer to purchase the Hei Hei frame. I carefully tallied my hours and calculated the exact day I could get on the phone and order the fine steed. I spent countless hours thumbing through the QBP catalogue reconfiguring my dream build and meticulously piecing together the most finely matched anodized pieces of flare, down to the crimp caps and bolt kits.

Every year I pull this bike out I am reminded of what bikes meant to me back then and how they made me feel. I had never crossed the line before the rest of the field yet, I hadn’t ever ridden a hundo before, I didn’t realize how therapeutic bikes could be, and I certainly had no clear concept of just how far a bike could take a person. The bike simply represented unchartered potential, hope, and aspiration. It was the infancy of my love affair of man and velo machine.

This winter season, I have a few frames in my stable worthy of being relegated to winter riding. However, last week I reached for the Hei Hei once again when it came time to coble together this seasons “winter beater”. The more I think about it, the more I realize there may have been some deeper sub conscious underlying psychology as to why I did this.

The day before I built up the bike, I heard a few dreaded words that had never really crossed my mind before. “Tim is getting old enough, that even he is starting to get a bit outdated in the racing world”.

Since my involvement in the sport I have always been driven by personal progression. Besting previous years has always been something that has been consistently achieved. I must admit, at first I was a bit taken back by this comment. Are my best years behind me? I’ve always thought I still have races to be won that have not yet been won.

I was quickly soothed by the idea that whether or not I am outdated, there will inevitably come a day when I do become outdated. A day when much like my grandfather, I look back and say; “I remember when I won…that was when I was riding my 2005 Trek…”. When this day comes, will that be it for me? Will I hang up my bikes permanently and let them collect dust for the rest of my life, leaving them with nothing more than the stories of adventures had in the past? What soothed me was that I realized I would never let this happen. There will always be a race for me despite whether it’s an elite race or not. You are never “at the top”; there is always someone capable of besting even your greatest form. I have learned to play the game. Even more importantly, I have learned to love the game of bike racing.

So perhaps this is why I built the Hei Hei back up. I wanted once again climb atop the bike that really helped to start it all for me and represented hope and aspiration. After all, this was the first bike I had ever won a race on, raced a 24hr race on, and rode 100miles with. Everyone has that one bike they'll never sell, this is it for me. I've probably had around 20+ bikes since this one, but I'll always come back to it.

Winter riding is a ritualistic time to set new goals. It's a time to be driven by your dreams. Next season I plan to continue to play the game.

Cross Training

Paramount Barely

This Iceman report is not so much a race report, but rather the description of one ceremonial and annual instance that has now become engrained in my season as ritual each year.

For those who know me, you know I like my beer. I drink it often, and for several different occasions. However, there is one specific beer I have each year that I can always clearly identify as my absolute favorite beers of the year.



Iceman is a funny race…perhaps it is its timing, maybe it’s the allure and mystique it has gained over the years, and maybe it’s because it is the largest mountain bike race in America. Whatever makes this race what it is, one thing is for certain, it is a race that always perpetuates months or preparation and months of provoked thought post race. What makes this so funny is that it is simply a 28 mile race on an extremely technically neutral course.

Iceman takes place at a time of year when the road racers season has ended, so they end up racing it. Also, cyclocross racers are in the thick of their season, so they race it. The mountain bikers are always up to race, so they travel cross country to race. The combination of such an eclectic race demographic creates something special that other races just don’t have.



Not only does the race itself cause for elevated heart rates but the anxiety of the preparation alone has many people going anaerobic just thinking about the start gun. A good showing at the Iceman gives you hope and sparks unparalleled enthusiasm and dedication for the following race year. Likewise, failed expectations at Iceman cause you to deeply look introspectively at what you can do to make next season your best one ever. Regardless, this race is always held as a metaphor of where you will guide your future drive and focus.



The 2010 Iceman was not good to me at all. Both the legs as well as the machine beneath them did not want to cooperate with my mind’s intentions and expectations. However, this is not a race report…this is a story about my annual favorite beer.

For many people, myself included, the finish line at Iceman is the last one I will cross for that given race season. Every year, I treat myself to a cold one shortly after the line. This is always my most beloved beer of the year because it stands for so much more than its contents. This specific beer gets raised to another full successful season of good results, personal health, and loving family and friends. Not only does this beer celebrate the end of a journey but it also represents a clean slate and a fresh start, full of expectation and promise for the year and years to come. Beer can only taste this good after the arduous experience of a full season under your belt.



Despite what my Iceman result is each year, I am always thankful. This is what will keep me coming back year after year...my quest for the best annual beer I could ever have.

Beer of choice this finish line: Bell’s Two-Hearted
My vote for the Landlord of the Midwest: Brian Matter
See you all next year…

Learning to Suffer

It was a tough race. The field was filled with the “who’s who” of racing. My nerves were high and in my mind, I had already lost the race even before it started because of my mental intimidation. The gun sounded, and my heart rate was pegged within 30 seconds. The pace didn’t slow down, but rather kept ramping up and surging even more potently than it had mere minutes ago. Thoughts of quitting began to seep into my mind and I became comforted by the thought that I could make this all end if I just stopped pedaling. I pushed onward for a few moments longer and gave what I thought was my last best effort. However, it was just that, my last effort. Soon after, I watched the field disappear before my front wheel while I fell off the back.

After cooling down, I rolled up to Ray and exclaimed how difficult the race was and how I tried to give it all I had but it just wasn’t good enough. He replied back to me a few simple words, “You know what your problem is Finkel, you need to learn how to suffer!” In disgust and defense I barked back, “Ray! I was suffering in that race!” He refuted, “You didn’t suffer…I’ll tell you when the first time you suffer is.” He went on to retell a classic Dybo Memoir involving Clair Young, a similar defeated race of his, a raddish, and those all so wise words…you need to learn how to suffer.

Ray was right, I hadn’t learned to suffer yet.

On the morning of October 12th, 2010, the sport of cycling lost quite possibly one of its most unsung heroes. This is something I’ve been reluctant to write about for awhile. The task of honoring a person who gave so much seemed monumental and a bit intimidating.

I had only had the privilege of conversing with Clair Young a handful of times. However, during those times I was able to make the accurate assumption that Clair never really said anything that wasn’t worth saying. I always walked away from my interactions with him smarter and wiser than I had been earlier that day. Despite my minimal interactions with Clair, I feel that I am traveling daily on roads he helped pave. As a result, I feel I have an acute understanding of the person he was, and the person he wanted to project to the world. This has not only given me inspiration but great respect for Clair.

Clair left a clear message with the Wolverines that has become a mantra for me not only in terms of racing but in life in general. This message was simple: you need to learn to suffer. I’ve always felt that our highs can only be measured by our lowest lows. Clair lost his wife at the tender age of 37. However, he kept his family together by devoting himself to his children, speed skating, and cycling. Two of his children Roger and Shelia, went on to attain more National Championships, World Championships and Olympic medals than I have room to write on this page.

I feel very fortunate to of been able to interact with Clair. Moreover, I feel fortunate that his teachings and ideals have been passed along to me through the Wolverine Sports Club. Best of all, I am thankful that through Clair’s words of wisdom I have truly learned how to suffer.

Ray was right. At the time, I hadn't suffered yet. It wasn’t until years after that first race I dropped out of, and several results later that Ray finally pulled me aside and said, “You've suffered…Congratulations…I’m proud of you.”

12 hours of Getting Beat by a Girl.

Although I am still rolling a healthy amount of miles these days, my racing objectives for the season have mostly all been met and I am focusing more toward 2011.

Different racers have different motives for lining up at any given start line. Some may take off at the gun with the intent to decimate the entire field, some may be seeking out something from within they are not sure exists, some may simply be trying to break personal records, some may be doing it to share an experience with other people who share your passion, and some may simply just be trying to finish. I must admit, I have lined up for all of the above reasons at one point in my life.

2010’s edition of 12hrs of Addison Oaks had me lining up for a new motive, to seek out some season-end closure.

For the past few seasons my recipe for success has been pretty concise and simple; pick one audacious goal toward the end of the season and treat everyday/race leading up to it like rungs on a ladder to get to the top and everything else will fall into place. For the most part, it has been a successful equation for me. However, this past season I had set several audacious goals only to have them taken away from me before I could ever even line up.

This season the timeline went a little something like this:
1. 24 hrs of Big Bear National Championships Cancelled.
2. National 24hr Series Dissolved to one race.
3. 24 hrs of Nine Mile Cancelled
4. New Promoter picks up 24hrs of Nine Mile and it’s back on
5. New Promoter cancels 24hrs of Nine Mile again
6. Consider returning to 24hrs of Hot August Nights but opt to race 24hrs of Mohican to attempt to set the course record
7. Register for 24hrs of Mohican and began getting focused
8. 24hrs of Mohican Cancelled

Although I never did get a crack at any of my audacious goals, I did have a pretty decent season posting 8 total wins and 14 podium finishes. I can’t complain too much but as my season draws to an end; my racing satiation has been left a bit empty.

My teammate, Dana Baurhenn, had also been working on achieving her own lofty goals this season. Being naturally drawn, as well as gifted, at endurance MTB racing she also signed up to race 24 hrs of Mohican solo. We had planned to share our support crew for the event and make the trip down together to support each other as teammates. However, our ambitions were crushed when we got word that Mohican was cancelled mere weeks before the event. We were both left pleading question, “Where do we go from here”.
My loyal family support crew


There were a few local Michigan endurance events left on the calendar; 24 hrs of Hanson Hills and 12 hrs of Addison Oaks. Dana decided to take her maiden solo crack at 24hrs of Hanson Hills of which she won quite handsomely.

As Addison Oaks neared, I conjured the idea to race on a 2 person team with Dana and go for the win amongst the other non-coed teams. It seems only natural as we were both mourning the loss of the race opportunity Mohican had once presented. She agreed to the idea and we got to work planning out the logistics for race day.

All in all, the race was a complete success! We scored the WIN, did not fall victim to any mechanicals or crashes, and completed 24 laps, the same amount as the winning 4-man teams. Both Dana and I rode extremely consistent keeping most of our lap times within minutes of each other.

While neither of us were able to chase and catch our dreams this season, we were able to practice what the true meaning of “Team” means and keep each other motivated at the tail end of a season, which isn't always easy to do.

Thanks again to all my family and friends who came out to support the event!
Congrats to fellow teammate Robert Herrimen for dominating the solo category with an impressive 166miles in 23 laps!


For full results, click here.

Rhonde Van Stony

Blazing fast double track, challenging power grade climbs, dirt roads, three cleverly named cash prems, and free beer from Kuhnhenn brewery = instant fall classic!!!

If you missed this race, make sure it is on your calendar for next year as it is only going to get bigger and better!

A few months back, Clint Verran contacted to me ask me if I’d be interested in racing the first inaugural Rhonde Van Stony Classic Dirt Road Race free of charge in an effort to spark some enthusiasm towards the race amongst the local cycling world. He may of also mentioned free beer in the equation as well. My response; “you had me at free and beer”.

As race day neared my excitement for the race grew. This past Thursday I pre-rode the course and became even increasingly stoked. The big topic of debate leading up to this race was what steed would be the optimal tool for the job. The race had a few sketchy descents that a MTB would gain an advantage on but on the flipside the majority of the race was held on dirt roads where as the minimized rolling friction and larger gearing ratios of a CX bike would be an advantage. I opted to race a CX bike, which turned out to be the weapon of choice this day.

The race started with a brief neutralized roll out and quickly entered the first 2.5 miles of double track which initiated the first selection of riders. I decided to take a “play it safe” approach and front run this section in the top 3 spots as their were 140 other riders charging behind me. Tim Saari, a definite potential victor for the day, experienced a mechanical on the first effort of the day which knocked him out of the front running selection. It was an unfortunate incident as Tim has displayed this CX season that he has the horse power to make people hurt very badly early on in a race.

Prem #1

The first person out of the double track section earned the first prem of the day. I was most interested in going for the win so I didn’t go out with the intentions of going for this prem. However, I quickly found myself in a neck and neck sprint with Danny Klein. We both agreed it was too close to call without a camera. Danny, being a good friend, decided to give it to me.

As the race went on, I found my form feeling pretty good and my power increasing. We whittled our front group down to 7 riders with a second chase group charging after us. In the interest of keeping the 1 to 7 odds, I maintained a pretty high tempo at the front of our group to ensure we stayed away.

Prem #2

The second prem came at the top of Parks Rd., which is commonly referred to as Paris Rd. because of a discretion in the road sign. Feeling strong, I pressed this climb and found myself snagging yet another prem.

The day was going well but I was getting antsy to shed some of the dead weight from our group. On the last significant road climb of the day I discretely attacked the group and found myself with an instant gap joined by Clint Verran, recent elite runner turned cyclist. We only had about 6 miles left in the race and with the exception of one last double track section, it was mostly downhill. Clint and I worked in cohesive synergy and quickly rode the remaining chasing group out of sight. As we entered the final trail section I knew I had to take him one on one and try to exploit his weakness; handling skills in the trails. Being a national caliber marathon runner, Clint may be able to run sub 5-minute miles for hours on end, but I was confident I had the upper hand on him in the trails. My assumption was correct as I rolled away from him and was able to ride steady tempo for the reminder of that section slowly putting distance between us.

Prem #3

There was one last prem available after leaving the final trail section that I was able to pick up without contest. From there on out I was able to simply settle into a personal rhythm and spend the last two miles intrinsically giving thanks for the win before rolling into the finishing straights.



As I rolled into the finish line relaxed and calm, the hands went up and I took time to really soak in the victory. This doesn’t happen too often as most of my wins are by mere seconds. Whenever I get the treat of winning a race in this fashion I take time to reflect on those who I love in my life and the loved ones I’ve lost and meditate on the reasons I race a bike in the first place. These moments are rare, they only come a few times a season if you’re lucky; I regard them as sacred.

Click HERE for full results.

Ice Ice Baby: Verse 1-Stop...Collaborate and Listen

Finkelstein is back with a 2010 edition. Same time, same place...new and improved route.

It's Coming...

Are you ready for this year's Fat Tire Fight Club? If you're in the know, make sure you show...because it's always worth the price of admission.

My First Master's Race

The 2010 Tour di Via Italia was good to me this year! I can get used to this old man racing.

A Recipe for New Ink.

Getting a tattoo is a deeply personal experience. People’s motives for this can be quite vast. I never thought much about getting any tattoos in my lifetime. This may be the reason it wasn’t until I was thirty that I got my first one. Tattoos are permanent landmarks in time. I got my first tattoo 6 weeks after my brother passed away. I wanted a permanent reminder of what his presence in my life had meant to me and how I wanted to strive to live my life from that day forward. I decided to keep the placement of that tattoo concealed mainly because it was something that was just for me.

As the cliché goes, it’s hard to only get one tattoo. One of my summer projects this year was to get some new artwork done that was not just for me but also for everyone. I wanted a piece that spoke of who I was. Below is what I came up with. There are several metaphorical layers to this one. The bike cog represents my passion, not simply for cycling but the idea that I am a person of passion. The anatomically correct heart represents that my passion is what makes my heart strong and helps me to be the person I want to be. The background wings follow the contour of a Corvette logo. My brother had an immense passion for Corvettes. He was one of those lucky people that get to have their passion and occupation overlap. He achieved this by following his heart. When you put it all together you have the recipe for what makes me happy and that’s why I decided I wanted to carry this recipe around with me all the time.



One of the most important lessons I’ve come to love about tattoos is the undeniable truth that you are a product of the decisions you make in life and that they follow you wherever you go…shaping who you are.

Days 3-7 of 700 in 7: The Belated Ride Denouement Report

I apologize for the tardiness of this entry but it seems that when you hit the pause button on life to roll 40 plus hours in one week on the bike a tidal wave of postponed responsibilities comes crashing down on you as soon as you cross the finish line. Nonetheless, I’ve had a week to mentally digest this experience and I’m ready to pass it along to you.

I’d like to first start by sincerely thanking all of those who donated to this cause. Before I started this ride, the Make-A-Wish foundation was purely a conceptual idea to me. It wasn’t until I was fortunate enough to listen to the stories of so many people and feel the support of everyone who was behind me in this endeavor that I was able to see that what I was doing was something tangible and worthwhile. No matter how big or small your donation, the gesture of your support was a major contributing factor toward me keeping the cranks turning throughout this week of attrition. Although I was the one completing the miles on my bike, this event was not about me, it was about the children who have to live with fear that they can’t even understand at such a young age. Make-A-Wish is able to provide something to these children that even the best of doctors cannot; this something is hope, excitement and joy amidst life-threatening situations. Furthermore, Make-A-Wish does not only positively affect the child but also the family unit as a whole. Your support toward this cause allows families throughout the world to improve their quality of life even when it is limited through something as simple and magical as a wish. With your help, I was able to raise $2300 in a little less than a month. This has me excited to see how much higher I can raise the bar next year.

Day 3:

My first 320 miles were ridden alone. I didn’t really plan for this, it just kind of happened. However, in retrospect I’m happy that it turned out that way as I realize it was a blessing. Everyone has his or her own way of grieving the loss of a loved one. I’m discovering that figuring out constructive methods to do this can be extremely challenging and confusing. I’ve also realized that this journey is not a start and end format either but rather an ongoing process that becomes part of the core fabric of who you are as a person. So far throughout my own process riding my bike has been my most comfortable psychiatric chair. These first three days of riding in solitude helped for me to center my thoughts and reflect on certain emotions I have felt over the past year or so. I was hoping for this experience to be a cathartic one and it indeed was. Nonetheless, after riding three days alone, I was ready to welcome company on day four.

Day 4: Solitude Ends

Cullen Watkins and I met up at 6:00 in the morning to head toward Birch Run where an illustrious 40-ft RV, courtesy of the generosity of Jeff Surnow, was going to pick us up in style and proceed toward Traverse City. Despite not having much of a pre-determined route in place we were able to link together some great dirt roads and double track that ended up eventually dumping us out onto Dixie Highway in Flint. We reached Birch Run a little after 12:00 and with 100 miles in our legs resulting in a week total of 420 so far.


We were greeted by some great company in the RV. As the trip rolled on, I realized that although it was my first time meeting many of these people we were going to all become good friends by the end of the weekend. Whenever you are thrown into a new social situation a common ingredient that is an extremely effective catalyst in unifying the group is beer! I can honestly say that by the time we reached Traverse City, our group had become one!



Day 5: The WAM Begins

You can take the racer out of a race but you cannot take the race out of the racer. Mind you, this event is a tour. It is not designed for personal glorification or ego feeding. However, when you have 800 plus riders starting at one point, heading in the same direction, and ending at the same point…it kind of becomes a race to me regardless of the rides motive, I guess it’s just in my blood. “Look at that guy…He’s on a single speed mountain bike…he must not have ever done this before…just wait until the end, he’ll be suffering”. Echoes of these sentiments rolled off the tongues of everyone I came in contact with this day. Soon after the ride began I started searching for road wheels to follow and tuck behind until they tinkered out. I spoke with many of the riders, as they all asked me, “Why are you on a single speed mountain bike”? My most common answer was, “I’m a glutton for punishment”. I would then proceed to inform them that I started the day with 420 miles in my legs already and plan to roll 700 for the week. I should also mention, I was not alone in this single speed venture. Cullen Watkins, who first pitched the idea, and Jeff Surnow, were also limited to fat tires and one cog for the weekend. News spread quickly amongst the participants and we became known as “The Deranged and Insane Mountain Bikers” for the rest of the weekend.


After about 60 miles of riding for the day I stopped in at an aid station and they announced to me that I was the first person through for the day. I was leading the ride…not that it’s a race of course. At around mile 85 two-road bikers blazed by me and I put in an effort to stay on their wheel. The two riders were a fellow Wolverine and Blair Dudley who is a very accomplished road racer. They kept the pace high and dragged me to end the day rolling in as the first three finishers. Soon after we completed, I was able to sit down and talk with Blair and his involvement with Make-A-Wish. Turned out, his daughter received a wish in 2003. He went onto explain how the experience of this changed his life dramatically which even lead to a career change to the healthcare field as well as seven years of participation in the WAM. Again, his story contributed to my conceptual view becoming even more tangible.

That evening we had a Team Alex party in our hotel. Bill and Susie Graham graciously provided the team with food and beverage and thanked us all for honoring the life of their daughter through our efforts. That night I decided to share my story in front of the entire team as to why I wound up at WAM this year. I only made it a few sentences into my speech before I was overcome with tears. I had delivered a speech at my brother’s funeral that I managed to make it through collected. However, this evening as I shared my story aloud it began to become much more real for me. I thought about Bill and Susie losing Alex, and I thought about everyone’s story in the room and my emotions overtook me. At the end of my story, many people approached me. Despite the difficulty of sharing this with everyone it was ultimately a good thing for me and I realized I was amongst friends and supporters.


Day 6: Atonement through Suffering

As we rolled out at 5:45am as a group, we all realized we were going to get wet this day. The forecast did not look favorable and there were even grumblings amongst the organizers that the ride could get shut down today due to severe thunderstorms. Immediately I became fearful that my 700-mile goal could be in jeopardy so I adopted the mentality that if I rode fast enough I could outrun the weather. I didn’t exactly end up outrunning the weather but I did end up avoiding some severe thunderstorms and finished the ride with 118 miles for the day and again, arriving in the front group.

I’ll admit, this day was not a fun day in the saddle. We battled torrential downpours all day long. Under any other circumstances I probably would of thrown in the towel. However, the thought of meeting our wish kids at the finish line the next day and the realization of the suffering they have had to endure kept the wheels turning all day.

That evening was the WAM Awards Banquet in which they honor the riders, share the event history, and entertain a very tired crowd. To my surprise, I won the award for the most surprising stunt of the weekend. As I said, word traveled fast amongst the riders of my 700-mile week. Also, being a part of Team Alex, we were awarded with the Top Earning Team Award collectively raising just over $202,000, which equates to roughly 30 wishes being granted. I felt very honored to be a part of that figure and overwhelmed that in today’s economic climate, Team Alex was able to achieve this.


Day 7: Completion

There are many experiences in life that are so great in the moment but are forgotten with time. However, every so often you experience something that is great in the moment but once you’ve had time to reflect on it, you realize that it was truly amazing. The last day of WAM was such a day for me.

Make-A-Wish is a truly a unique charity in the sense that you get to meet the children your efforts have directly affected. While the root of charity is helping others out unconditionally and without necessary acknowledgement, I believe this unique characteristic of Make-A-Wish is reciprocally beneficial to both those fundraising and those receiving. Perhaps that’s why so many of the Make-A-Wish Kids become employees of the foundation later in life. The opportunity to meet those directly affected by your efforts puts hope in your own heart but also allows the Wish children to realize that there is a community of people fighting for them and supporting them through their adversity. It allows them to understand that they do not have to face fear alone.

The simple words “Thank You” that came from the mouths of the Wish Kids that day is still resonating in my head. It was during these moments of gratuity from the children that the conceptual truly became the tangible and I realized that I will seize the opportunity to participate in WAM for as long as my body enables me to.

I ultimately ended the week with 730 miles total, 30 miles above my goal. However, the week wasn’t about the miles…it was about something more. Much to my surprise, it ended up resulting in even more than I could of ever anticipated. Again, thank you to everyone who financially supported this as you all share a piece of this experience.

Day 2 of 700 in 7: Giving Thanks

It’s still pretty early in the week but I must say, my legs are holding up pretty well so far. Also, I’ve had an overwhelming amount of motivation to keep the wheels moving forward. Today that motivation materialized itself into a bit of bonus miles as I rolled some extra credit and came in at 120 miles for the day with a ride time of 6hrs 58min.

Most often, my rides have some sort of training objective (i.e. active recovery, intervals, hills, tempo, base miles, race tune-ups, etc.) However, this week is not about training to me…in fact, it’s not even so much about the ride at all, but rather something more.


Last week I taught in a classroom composed of severely multiply impaired students. All of the students were in wheelchairs and non-ambulatory. Many of them had to eat through feeding tubes in their stomach, and they were almost all not able to communicate verbally. Their ages ranged from 6 to 10 years old. It’s easy for us to feel bad for this population. We tend to compare our own life experiences to what they will never be able to experience. However, I noticed that many of these students still experienced happiness and joy; it was simply in a different form than what we are accustomed to. I observed one student who would laugh and smile simply by hearing certain music he liked or feeling something tactile that he enjoyed.

Although these students may never be able to function without assistance, their role in their caretaker’s lives is still very symbiotic.


As I rode today, I reflected on my often taken for granted, simple ability to ride a bicycle. At one point I found myself lost in my thoughts, looking down at my legs pumping rhythmically and harmoniously with my machine, and I began to think about those students I worked with last week. A wave of gratitude came over me and I became so thankful for the gift of personal health and ability.


I must admit that although the main objective of this journey is to raise money for Make-A-Wish, my initial motives could still be considered a bit self-serving. I thought it would be a healthy cathartic way to grieve over lost loved ones and an excuse to ride 700 miles in one week.

Last night after my ride, Angela and I attended the Team Alex Pre-WAM party. After listening to some of the veteran riders testimonials of meeting the Wish Kids on the last day of the tour I began to realize that it is going to be a difficult task to finish the week with a dry eye. Although, my efforts are focused towards helping these children’s wishes come true, I have a feeling they will be giving back just as much to me through their inspiration.

It’s not so much about the miles or the ride but just simply giving thanks.