A Followup on the PMC (3)

To finish up, there were craft tents for Pedal Partners
...special guests...

and an impressive finish line (with my Dad their for the 6th straight year!), with people crossing the line for hours on end. Some finishing with an average of 8 mph and some finishing at 19.5 mph. All for the same cause...

And most turning in for the night to do it again on Sunday. Most of the riders were then riding from Bourne out to Provincetown, another 70 mile day. I was a one day rider this year, although I have ridden on Sunday in the past. It, too, is a special day.

Finally, a portrait of the beast that brought me...

Final stats:

6 miles to the start line

84 miles to the finish line

8.5 miles to my aunt's house (family party there and easier than dealing with the traffic!)

1.5 miles around the block a couple of times to make the odometer a nice round number.

100 miles in all. A very special Saturday.

So far I have raised $1550 this year. $1450 to go by October 1. If you can help...

But most importantly, I want to thank my family and friends for making this possible. You are amazing and generous and kind with your encouragement and generousity. With your help over the years, we have raised over $18,000. It couldn't go to a better place.

A Followup on the PMC (2)

One of my fascinations with this event is the personalization of this somewhat abstract cause. "Fighting cancer" is hard for me to grasp at times. How many different forms of cancer are there? How does a $25.oo or $50.00 or $250.oo donation contribute to this battle? What can we really do to make a difference?

And then I see all these shirts...



and people with ribbons and photos and signs and messages. And all of them, ALL of them are just doing what they can - banding together, eating together, riding together... its really difficult for me to describe what I feel when I'm in this event: watching survivors pedaling along (one rider with one leg blew by me at 21 mph!), being helped by twelve year olds at rest stops, overhearing conversations about sisters lost (one was lost just 4 months ago), being pulled aside by families for heartfelt thank yous (one such family spoke to me at the lunch stop and introduced me to their son, survivor of brain cancer for 7 years so far!). I feel so inadequate and powerful at the same time...

One more blog to finish it all up...

A Followup on the PMC (1)

I want to get out a proper thank you to all who supported me for this weekend's ride. I am working on this electronic version and will be writing some old fashioned notes tonight and the next couple of nights. It is my hope that this version of a thank you will help illustrate what the weekend was about.

I have always been a relatively silent participant in the PMC. My family thinks I am brave but in truth, at this event, I am surrounded by a vast blanket of people who epitomize strength and bravery and character. I am always reluctant to stand out - there are so many people who have been affected by cancer, so many people with unique stories and heartbreaking battles, everyone one of us needing/wanting to do something...

And so I have been quiet. I am one of thousands. My very presence and participation in this event has been enough for me. I can raise the minimum. I can pedal the distance. That was enough. But I wanted to do something more this year. I wanted to be more of a participant. Baby steps, I know, but I decided to take pictures this year and show them. I always try and describe the event in my post-ride letter, but I thought images might help the visual among us. So here it goes...
Saturday morning was beautiful! Woke up at 5:15. On the road by 5:40...

...looking a little groggy...

...but arrived at Babson to a party. Volunteers, riders, family members energetically preparing for the ride. Donated coffee, yogurt, bagels, fruit, PB&J being consumed at an incredible rate. Disco lights and music pumping. It was high energy and a great way to psych oneself up for the task at hand.

My family showed up, bless them, at 6:30 - Liam a bit cold, obviously. They are always so good to come out and cheer me on at the send-off. My sister Kathleen and her boyfriend Randy also came (they've come every year as well!), although I didn't have the camera out at the time and I needed to wade into the sea of riders...

...to get my bike so it was a brief hello. A cheery send-off from Larry Luchino, himself a cancer survivor and then a magnificent rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner by an opera-trained rider. Send-off at Babson was at 7am.

An even larger group of riders had taken off from Sturbridge at 5am! All told, there were about 5000 bikers on the road this day!

I will continue this story with more photographs on the next post...

The PMC

Community: I suppose nothing is bigger in this particular community on this weekend than the PMC. For those not in the know, this is the Pan Mass Challenge, a two day bike-athon of 180 miles or so. This is a monster fundraising event - thousands of bike riders, hundreds of volunteers, millions of dollars raised. This is my 6th year riding. The PMC raises and donates its money for the Jimmy Fund, the fundraising arm of the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. Amazingly, the PMC provides half of the Jimmy Funds annual total and is the single largest contributor to the DFCI.

I started this ride in memory of my mother. She died of breast cancer in 1999. She did get to see Trish and I get married, but she died before Liam was born. It was wonderful to have her at the wedding - we were married on August 1 and this was before she got really sick. It was an awful fall - she died in January. While she was never officially a grandmother, she did know that the next generation was on the way, as my nephew Ian (my brother's first born) was born just six months after she passed. She would have loved holding court with her grandkids...

Every year, I ride with ribbons. On each ribbon is the name of someone affected by cancer. My mom, my dad, my grandmother, both my blood uncles, my ceramic mentors... Some are survivors, some are battlers, and some have succumbed. My ribbon bouquet gets larger every year. This year, it is extremely sad that I have added Sally Naser to my list. Sally is a young, elfin, energetic girl who is in my son's class. She is only 10 years old and is battling an extremely aggressive form of bone cancer. She has been getting radiation and chemotherapy all summer long and is due for an operation next week to amputate one of her legs in hopes of keeping the disease from spreading. Whenever I ride my bike, I always bring my mom along. This year, I'm bringing Sally as well.

For those wishing to donate, you can click here.

Studio: It ain't about the studio this week.

Fondue and Olives

Community: Haven't been out in the community of clay as much in the past couple of weeks. I did NOT make it to Smith College to see Emily Eveleth, although I still hope to (I am heading back to VT tonight to finish up the treehouse so perhaps on my way home on Wednesday?). I have been trying to keep up with what's going in the digital information sharing world, however. On the weekend that I got reacquainted with a form I have been fond of (produced by D. Lasser ceramics in Vermont), Jim Gottuso posted on his blog, Sofia's Dad's Pots, a form that was kind of similiar, although more baroque and elegant and beautiful:

I wrote to him about the coincidence and promised to get him some images from the original source. Alas, I can not seem to negotiate D. Lasser's website to find the original form. Wanted to give proper notation (no modern-day high school plagiarist am I...)

So...

Studio: Here are some photos, then, of my interpretation of said form:

These forms are the closest - smooth transition from top form to bottom form. D. Lasser is a little psychedelic with glaze treatments and so likes really pristine surfaces for glaze spatters...

I like texture, myself, so I started to experiment with creating a zone of texture - almost like a handle - with a smooth bowl area. These are closest to what I think of as my aesthetic. I think these might be good for olives...

The next ones are a direct result of looking at Jim's work. I would never usually go as detailed as he does, but it was fun to work on these. I think of them as fondue pots - the opening nice and deep, with rests on the side for the forks. If I keep working on this form, I'll probably tone them down a bit, but who knows...?