Today I am honored to have a guest writer sharing a post close to her heart, Lucinda Tokarski. You may remember Lucinda from being featured on Fit Mama Friday. One of the upcoming goals she mentioned in that feature was to ride The Prouty, a 50 mile bike race to raise money for cancer research, an annual fundraiser that takes place in New Hampshire and Vermont. What Lucinda didn’t know was that by the time she got to the starting line of that race, she would be riding in memory of her aunt, who tragically passed away from cancer just a few weeks earlier. Thank you so much for sharing your experience with us, Lucinda!
It’s 4 a.m. I rub the sleep out of my eyes as I sit on the edge of the bed and gaze at my bike gear waiting for me on the hope chest at the end of my bed. As a smile crosses my face, a lump gathers in my throat and tears pool in my swollen eyes. It’s the morning of The Prouty, an annual fundraiser held by Dartmouth Hitchcock’s Norris Cotton Cancer Center and I know that the 50 miles I am about to ride is nothing compared to the battle people face in the fight with cancer. However, this is my race in helping find a cure for this non-discriminatory devil.
I pick my jersey up and before pulling it over my head I hold it in my hands and read through the words and names embroidered on its back. In Memory Of: Dirk Neuhof, Evatte Hull, Jessica Fraumeni; In Honor of: Pam Barrows. Each year I do so, the memories of each of them I hold dear flood my heart and mind. This year feels different though, because there is emptiness I see and I feel. There is a space on my jersey that will hold the name of my sweet Aunt Mary who lost her battle with cancer not four weeks earlier. That emptiness fills my heart with sadness and streams the pools of tears down my face. I give myself that moment, I let it fill me with even more passion and life, because I know that she would want me to smile and ride, as would everyone else.
An hour later I pull into the parking lot where I will start my journey. The sky is clear, the sun bright and a sweet chill is in the air. With my shoes and helmet strapped on, pictures of Aunt Mary wired to my bike and the salamander stuffy that my son gave me for my handlebars, I hop on my saddle and head for registration. The energy in the air can be felt for miles from the thousands of people coming together to be a part of this amazing event. There are people of all ages, shapes and sizes; we are all different, yet today we are all the same. Living for those who we have lost, providing strength for those who are weak in their fight and doing what we can to make a difference in finding a cure.
It’s a perfect morning for any ride, which makes this morning feel even more special.
The Prouty is one of my favorite routes to ride, through small towns in central Vermont and New Hampshire. Regardless of the early morning hour, the number of riders already starting their journey blows my mind, yet I feel as though I own the road and when I reach the stretches when I am truly alone, I listen to buzz of my tires, the sweet sounds of nature and the echo of Aunt Mary’s laughter as she tells us one of her many jokes. She could tell the same joke a hundred times over and still make you laugh as if it was the first time you heard it.
Only a few miles into the ride my legs start to break into their routine of spinning. It’s been quite some time since I have been in my saddle and I feel like I am falling in love all over again. The road offers peace and adventure, adding strength and vitality to my spirit. Already wrapped in the beauty of my experience, with thoughts of my loved ones, near and far, living and deceased dancing through my brain, I peer into a field to my right and find myself awestruck by the beauty of a doe standing tall in the deep green grass. Aunt Mary sending me a sign, a blessing, a prayer? I’d like to think so.
My aunt was one of the most unselfish and giving people I have ever known. The spirit in her soul was bright and full of positivity. Much like the spirit of The Prouty. I am certain that it was this unwavering spirit that kept her with us for 3 years more than doctors expected. It was often she who comforted us through her battle. She assured me that it would be ok to move on through life without her and her daily prayers for all of us would continue. She knew of The Prouty and I was hopeful that she would live to know I rode once again. After her passing there were times I thought I did not want to ride but a quick thought of her smile, or the support she always provided wiped any doubt away.
I ride. I feel the breeze add a chill to the sweat on my body. I feel. I feel every part of my body working hard as I leave miles of road behind me. It’s not an easy ride and there are times when my legs scream at me, as though they are begging me to give them reprieve. I look down at the road, staring aimlessly at its deep gray tint and think about all of those who would love to be fighting this battle instead. Just when it seems as though my legs cannot make one more rotation I looked ahead to see a woman pedaling proudly and doing so with a “Survivor” bib on her back. It filled me with happiness and power, strength that comes from deep within and I ride, for the survivor I have just passed, the survivors of the future, the heroes who rest peacefully and the memories that they have left behind.
As I reach the last mile I am overtaken by emotion as tears fall from my eyes and sobs heave through my chest. I cry hard and I ride harder. There isn’t a person who questions my emotion and as I cross the finish line to cheers of those waiting, I unclick my shoe, stand over my bike and bow my head in honor. While doing so I feel the gentle touch of a stranger’s hand on my shoulder as she walks by. It’s The Prouty, thousands of people coming together to offer support and strength in a fight that touches us all, and I am once again proud to have been a part. Prouty On!
Oh – what a touching recap – I cried reading the end because I can just picture the emotions overtaking Lucinda!!!
Thank you for sharing this story here!!!
I cried too!! Lucinda writes so beautifully and she perfectly captured the spirit of the event.