Being a mom is hard work. I would know. I put my mom through heck growing up ;) When I started training for my first MS 150 this year, it was mostly about taking part in one of Texas’ great cycling events. Charity cycling has become a large part of my life and it just seemed right to do one of my home state’s biggest rides. What came up along the fundraising journey was that mothers who have multiple sclerosis raised some of my favorite people in the world. Come to find out some of my friends are mothers themselves who struggle with MS along with the ups and downs of raising kids. It is with humble gratitude and appreciation for the hard work and extraordinary obstacles you face in raising your children while living with a chronic, progressive disease that I decided to whom I should dedicate this year’s ride.
So that’s why I’m riding the 2013 BP MS 150, April 20 - 21, 2013, from Houston to Austin, in honor of all moms who battle multiple sclerosis especially Karen Crow and Pam Pedraza.
Multiple sclerosis is a progressive neurological disease that affects people in many different ways. It could be paralysis one day, loss of vision the next or impaired memory the day after that. Living with MS means living with uncertainty. Another American is newly diagnosed with MS every hour of every day.
I’ve already reached my $1,000 fundraising goal, but you can still donate to help create a world without MS here: http://bit.ly/jcgms150
Two years ago, I pulled an old commuter bicycle out of storage from my parent’s garage. Had no idea whether trying to ride the thing for fitness would do any real good. All I knew was the gym sucked and I needed to get healthier. These years have witnessed a new bike, countless training miles, more triathlons and cycle distance rides than most people complete in a lifetime, new friends made, money raised for good causes, amazing travel to compete, and athletic achievement. Much weight has been lost and some of it has been gained back. My body has revealed some of longterm adverse effects of childhood obesity while at the same time managing to amaze the brain it carries around with some of the things it’s been capable of doing. Most cyclists have heard someone say it doesn’t matter that you fall, it matters that you get back up. Sometimes we fall so hard it takes more time to get up than others. In my case, I fell at some point in elementary school when poor eating choices and inactivity put me on a path of being overweight for as long as I can remember. I fell when I first clipped into pedals. I fell when diagnosed with arthritis in my knees at age 30. I fell after hearing friends make fun of how obsessed with exercise I’d become. I fell, quite literally, running down the street one night and sprained both wrists. And, I fell when boredom, stress, and a busy life made all of the healthy choices I started making so damn hard. We all fall. It’s part of movement. It’s always partially uncontrollable. Accidents happens. Risks are miscalculated. Two years into what feels new life, I promise you it matters so much more that you get back up, than that you fell in the first place. Now get your butt up, get back on, and go do what you love. It’s your life. Live it.
“ Every year I went to the starting line feeling I had it figured out. Every year I was wrong.
Mark Allen, six-time Ironman Triathlon
