My PMC experience has been multi-faceted to say the least. It began at the ripe old age of 3 at a Kids Ride: face paint, obstacle courses, and training wheels…the good days. My face was even on the PMC Kids website for a couple of years (don’t worry, they’ve replaced me with someone cuter). From there, it was on to Cherry Street during that wonderful August weekend to cheer on my parents (riding a tandem!) and older cousins during the big ride. I even had the amazing opportunity and honor of throwing out the first pitch with my Mom and my brother for PMC Day at Fenway Park when I was 7. I continued to ride in the Kids Rides (11 total!), even “helping” my dad (by picking out the best Yasso bar flavors) organize the Sandwich Kids Ride for a few years (thanks for ending that one COVID). My involvement with this organization has been anything but linear, but it’s always been rewarding, and it’s shaped my life in an unforeseen, yet unforgettable way. The first decade of my life was filled with bikes, ice cream, and a search for a cure. Name a better combination. I’m a PMC Kid at heart, and I always will be.
When I was 13, I ‘retired’ from biking as much as a 13-year-old can. Couldn’t tell you why, I just didn’t want to do it anymore. I didn’t touch a bike for nearly 4 years. Flash forward to today: a 17-year-old high school senior riding in my 1st PMC Unpaved with my dad and one of my best friends. The plot continues.
My dad has ridden the PMC for more years than I have existed. My “Why I PMC” starts with him. I’ve seen his hundreds of early morning rides where he’s ridden 50+ miles before I’ve even woken up. I’ve seen his dedication to raising money for Dana Farber. I’ve seen the joy and pride on his face in P-Town, knowing that he just spent multiple hours in the saddle (we all know it’s not that comfortable) for the mission, the community, and above all, the fluffernutters. More importantly, I’ve seen the list of names he writes on the back of his legs during the big ride slowly increase. When I was little, I used to ask, “Dad, who’s Paul? Dad, who’s Bud?” Now, I know their stories, and unfortunately, I have my own list.
When it comes to cancer, there’s often pain and grief, but what the PMC does is it takes tragedy and channels it into purpose, community, and strength. It’s about honoring those who we’ve lost, but also about supporting those currently fighting, and making progress so that someday, this illness is a distant dream.
So, why do I PMC? I PMC because I’ve seen the pain of losing loved ones to cancer. I PMC because being a part of something bigger than yourself is forever impactful. I PMC because even at 17, I know that I can make a definitive contribution to this world. I PMC because there is so much more progress to make towards a cure. I PMC because it’s in my blood. I PMC because I have faith that there is a cure out there, maybe just over the next hill.
We all rest in the shade of trees we did not plant…
