Livestrong Philly 2010 Report, Part II: All Hail the Rainmakers

08.30.2010 | 6:12 am

A “Yes, We Have a Winner!” Note from Fatty: A huge thanks to everyone who participated in the contest to win an Intense Spider 2 with 2011 Shimano XTR. In tomorrow’s post I’ll talk more about it, but meanwhile, here’s an interesting little fact: Together, the five Team Fatties — Seattle, San Jose, Philly, Austin and NYC — have raised nearly $400,000 in the fight against cancer this year.

That’s a huge amount of money, and I’m incredibly grateful to everyone who has either raised money or donate. Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.

And now, on with part 2 of Philly Jenn’s LiveStrong Challenge saga. Read it, love it.

Sunday, 5:45am. Where is my head?

For some mysterious reason, I seem to be standing upright at this unfamiliar hour. The midnight snack of chips and salsa that I consumed shortly before falling asleep does not seem to be moving in an entirely synchronous fashion with the rest of me. It’s going to be a great day!

I am not yet kitted up for the day’s ride, since the Sleeping In Gear thing only applies to running outfits — bike shorts don’t really make comfortable pajamas. (I’m sure that fans of bib shorts would contend that I could bag plenty of Zzzzzzzzz while comfortably cossetted in the confines of a giant set of lycra overalls, but you don’t see any of them counting sheep in chamois, do you?)

Which means that once all the Fatties have assembled in the parking lot behind the hotel for the team rollout nearly an hour later, I have no idea where my helmet is. We pass the time by taking photos and applying sunscreen just as the first sprinkle of raindrops starts to fall. Someone offers me a spare brain bucket to accessorize the empty space between my ears. We take a group photo (note my uncovered head).


And then Jenni emerges from the hotel with my bashful headgear in tow, and the Fatties are finally on the road to the Livestrong ride.


As the long ribbon of the dozens of Team Fatty riders winds into the starting line area, we receive a big shoutout from the announcer. We split into our respective starting areas for the various ride distances, and wait for a surprisingly brief period of time — this year, the opening of the ride runs like clockwork.


Lance Armstrong shares a few words with the assembled crowd, Jessy Kyle sings yet another great rendition of the national anthem, and we are off.

The First Leg: Prepare to launch

This year, with no single team granted a position at the very front of the starting group, I take advantage of the opportunity to relax in the back of the first wave of riders. Though little can compare to last year’s sensation of being overtaken by more a thousand riders in the first five minutes on the road, I somehow manage to dig deep into my suitcase of courage and keep moving.

Bridge work in the middle of the initial 6-mile straightaway on Morris Road takes us on a brief detour, but soon enough we find ourselves riding on the quieter, more secluded network of rolling country roads that characterizes the heart of the course.

And what would a winding rural byway be without roadkill? Seven or eight miles into the course, I see riders ahead swerving to avoid a large, dark mass on the ground. As I draw closer, I notice that the lump in the road seems awfully…industrial. In a flash, I realize what it is.

A seatpost-mounted double bottle cage, better known in BikeSnobNYC parlance as a set of “butt rockets.”

(NOW you tell me. If I had known that those things actually came equipped with a launch button, I would have made them a part of my daily bike commute eons ago.)

Almost directly ahead of me, another rider barrels into the same concrete lip that doubtless sent the unfortunate double-bottle cage into eject mode. In what will become a recurring motif for the day, a Livestrong water bottle pops out of his frame-mounted cage and begins rolling forlornly across the road.

The rider who just lost his bottle abruptly brakes, and then starts rolling his bike directly backwards into the wave of oncoming riders. Without looking.

For once, I am grateful that I spent so much time playing Frogger back in the day.

I manage to pass through Bottle Rocket Canyon unscathed, and spend time riding with fellow Fatties Aaron, Lindsay, Drew, Jennie, and Ryan all the way through to the first Power Stop, where the rain begins sprinkling more forcefully.

I desperately need food. I’ve left the hotel without eating breakfast, trying to let my stomach settle and secure in the knowledge that the Livestrong Power Stops are all fully stocked with bars, gels, fresh fruit, energy drinks, and all manner of calorically dense edibles. While slowly starting to fuel up, I have the chance to chat with more Fatties. Standing with Ryan (from Hawaii), Philip (from Vancouver), and Jeff (who biked the 700+ miles from Louisville to take part in Livestrong Philly), I’m amazed by just how far Fatties will go to fight cancer.

The Second Leg: Stepping it up

I ride out with Ryan and we catch up with Jennie, who is rocking a pair of Converse sneakers and riding on platform pedals. The course starts to get a bit hillier, and the rain starts coming down more steadily. Ryan finds his hill legs and starts feeling more at ease on the course.

We begin seeing riders going past us in the opposite direction on the course, speedy people who have decided to turn around early in an attempt to beat the rain.

When we are about fifteen miles into the course, we see a large motorcycle on the opposite side of the road up ahead, followed by an enormous SUV. Behind the megamobile is a set of four riders, one of whom is sporting some World Champion stripes on his jersey. We wave as they zip by, and I start doing the math in my head:

(100-15) miles / 1.45 hours = WAY better breakfast than me


As we pull into the second Power Stop at Green Lane Park, the skies open up and we take shelter under the food tents. Joining us are Fatties Oscar and Nancy, and one of the historical re-enactors who make this stop a treat every year. The colonial-era celebrants come complete with fifes, drums, and historically correct costumes that make cyclists everywhere privately give thanks for the invention of synthetic fabrics.

nedHector_Noah.pngThe downpour gives “Ned Hector,” who goes by Noah in the 21st century, a chance to share his story with us. His wife was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer while she was carrying their child, and she passed away a month-and-a-half after giving birth. “But I have a beautiful 17-year-old daughter now,” he says, adding that the Livestrong ride is one the the events that is closest to his heart and one he cherishes supporting every year.


After hearing that, how can we not get out and ride a little harder, no matter how wet we might get?

The Third Leg: Going pear-shaped

We’ve given up on dodging the rain at this point, and we are getting thoroughly soaked. I remind myself that “triathlon” comes from the Greek for “peforming three different sports while sopping wet.” Besides, Clydesteve and the Seattle Fatties (where they serve up plenty of hail for Livestrong as a matter of course) will never let me live it down if I let a little precipitation put a damper on my plans.

When attempting to ride out of the way of a pileup and that sends another Livestrong bottle skittering towards me, I have to unclip and dismount when my line uphill is blocked by an oncoming car. This is the first of many cyclocross moments in the day; on the rain-slicked roads, I am happy indeed to be wearing rubber-soled shoes with recessed cleats.

Ryan and I continue along the 70/100-mile route, while Jennie takes the turnoff for the 45-mile route. Ryan and I go from having plenty of company to being almost alone once we decide to press forward for the longer route. “At least we’ll be able to say we rode further than the guy behind the SUV today,” I chirp.

The miles past Green Lane Park blur into one another. Ryan and I take turns waiting for one another along the way. There is dismounting. There is walking uphill. There is cramping. There is electrolyte ingestion. There is some relief.

The Ballad of the True Clyde

During one of our walking intervals, we cross paths with a big, strapping guy in his 20’s who has a photo of this little girl taped to his bib:

For this fellow, a true Clydesdale packing 240-some pounds of pure muscle, the hill ascents are particularly unkind. He and Ryan and I ride together for a bit, then walk some more. Working to keep his momentum going, Ryan decides to continue ahead and I say that I’ll catch up with him at the next rest station.

I stick with the True Clyde as the cramping in his quadriceps gets more vicious. A triathlete and runner, he can’t believe how much his leg is seizing up on the bike, which it never does when he runs. I tell him it’s the exact same story for me. We keep moving forward. The climbs do not relent. We take it one step at a time.

I encourage him to take one of the extra energy bars I crammed into my jersey pocket at the last Power Stop.

Wet, tired, and hungry, when he bites into the bar he proclaims, “This tastes like one of God’s own apples.”

He asks how much farther we have until we reach the next Power Stop. I tell him I don’t know for sure, but that the stops are no more than 12-13 miles apart on the course, and we’re well over 11 miles out from the last stop. We press on; calling a SAG wagon is out of the question.

We approach the split for the 70/100 mile course at Dairy Lane, where by now the century course has been closed for hours. For the first time in what feels like forever, we see the colorful t-shirts of Livestrong volunteers. Knowing that he is safe and in good hands, I leave the True Clyde with the Livestrong folks at the turn and press onward.

Pedaling up Denial


I begin riding ahead, trying to speed up and reach the elusive third Power Stop. The miles start to rack up, with no other riders in sight. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…hunh?

With a left turn onto Forgedale Road, I am reunited with the quick and strong century riders who made it through the cutoff point before the longest course was closed early by rain. First I see one or two riding solo, then some riding in small groups and clusters.

The pavement is a bit rough, so I take my time going downhill in order to avoid cooking the descent. The longer I go downhill, the rougher the road feels. Gee, this pavement is bumpy! Fortunately, my brakes are completely solid.

My rear tire, however is not. It finally starts to shimmy ever so slightly, snapping me out of my denial. I slow, I stop, I turn, I pinch. Yeah, my rear tube is completely deflated and I’ve been riding on my rim. Ouch. Welcome to Team Flatty.

I open up my seatbag and get ready to do battle with my wheel, only to discover that I have levers, a tube, and a chuck for a CO2 cartridge — but no cartridge. My cartridges were confiscated at the airport when I flew down with only carry-on luggage for Livestrong Austin last year, and I completely forgot to replace them when I got home.

A passing rider generously gives me a spare cartridge (thanks!), and I return to gazing in despair at my rear wheel.

Then the cavalry arrives.

Fatties to the Rescue (the sequel)

In the blink of an eye, I am suddenly surrounded by Fatties: Tommy, Joel, and Doug (From Way Upstate NY) ride up, and a police officer pulls up behind me on his motorcycle to shield me from oncoming traffic. Fatties Jacqueline and Mike make sure we’re okay as they zoom past on their tandem. Tommy and Joel reassure passing riders that we’re all fine, and that I was just being pulled over for speeding.


Doug is my hero. In addition to being the Team Fatty grillmaster, he totally saves my bacon — efficiently swapping in a new tube AND defending the honor of my gently maligned cromoly frame by noting that he too is riding steel today. He even whips out a portable pump and inflates the new tube by hand. He makes a tough job — wrestling with Kevlar-laced tires and deep-V rims while perched at the edge of a guardrail on a turning descent — look easy and go quickly. That’s probably why his Clark Kent gig is being a professor of rocket science. Doug, you utterly rock. Thank you so much.

Back wheel restored, I roll with Tommy, Joel, and Doug until they deposit me at the next Power Stop at the Barto Firehouse…where Ryan is still waiting for me, nearly 17 miles and who knows how long after we left the previous stop at Green Lane Park.


By now, I am completely ravenous. I snarf down pasta salad, gorp, and several freshly picked local nectarines. I ask the bike mechanic at the stop to fill my rear tire back up to full pressure.

And then I brace myself to make do with the facilities.

The Room of Requirement

People who know me will tell you that I can be somewhat squeamish about the portaloo situation at rides and races. So imagine my reaction when I am face-to-face with this:


Ladies and gentlemen, may I present The Leaning Tower of Pee.

Even with my recessed-cleat, rubber-soled shoes, I am ricocheting around from the moment I step into the stalls. It’s like being in one of those carnival funhouses with the tilting floors…but pants-free! Or living in a barter economy, where it’s almost impossible to find purchase. Still, there’s plenty of TP (hmmm, wonder why), I cannot help but laugh aloud uncontrollably, and all’s well than ends (yet avoids upending) well.

The Final Leg: Life is sweet

By the time Ryan and I leave Barto, it’s well past 1pm, and we’re going to have to make better time if we don’t want to be pulled from the course. Ryan stays ahead of me most of the way forward. When I catch up with him at the next Power Stop, he tells me to go ahead and not worry about him catching up.

The rain begins falling in sheets and waves as I put my head down and ride, worried that I will be escorted off the course again like last year for being too pokey to cross the finish line by 4pm. It’s raining so hard that cautious, respectful drivers are giving every cyclist, even lone riders like me, wide and merciful berth.

Twenty miles out of Barto, I’m hungry again and starting to fade a bit. I reach into my back pocket, pull out a nectarine, and take a bite.

It tastes like God’s own nectar.

By the time I reach the final stop just ten miles from the finish, too drenched in the downpour to pause for anything more than downing an electrolyte tablet, I have acquired my own personal SAG vehicle. The support cars are gradually coming in off the course, and they’re tailing the few Livestrong riders that remain on the road.

The rain lets up as I return to Morris Road and the home stretch back to the finish line. I don’t know it at the time, but Ryan suffers a mechanical less than five miles from the finish, and is swept up by a SAG vehicle that declines to tweak his bike and release him in front of the finish line. He’s already plotting how he and his bike will take their revenge on the Livestrong course — and at least for today, Ryan still rode farther than that guy behind the SUV.

I reach Montgomery County Community College at 3:58pm. As I turn into the parking lot, I suddenly hear a big cheer: Maggi, Chris D, Jay, RayRay, and Kelli are all still gathered in the parking lot.

The volunteers, who by now have been waiting for several minutes between arrivals, actually shower me with rose petals. The Livestrong announcers have been at it nonstop since the crack of dawn. They give one more shout-out to Team Fatty.

I’m the last Fatty through the chute.


This story is only one of thousands out there during Livestrong Philly 2010. I was fortunate to be able to share stories with so many other wonderful people, and hope you’ll have the chance to do the same. Thanks to all the 2010 Philly Fatties for being such an amazing team.

Allez, Fatties, allez!


  1. Comment by Tommy F | 08.30.2010 | 6:26 am

    Great write-up Jen! It was a great weekend thanks to all your work and fantastic comraderie from all of Team Fatty. Strange you didn’t mention “water ice”!

  2. Comment by Bryan | 08.30.2010 | 7:39 am

    What a conclusion!
    Jen, I hope you have your weather order in for next year (75 and sunny would be nice!)and your bike bag I’m sure has already been stocked with 2 CO2 cartriges.
    Thanks for bringing us the highlights of so many Fattys and making all of us remember parts of the ride that had turned into a blur. The photos truely tell the wet story. One thing though, if I knew you were going to put the picture of me and the rose in the blog I would have put the rose in my teeth!


  3. Comment by Paul Guyot | 08.30.2010 | 7:48 am

    Great job, Jen.

    I was a virtual member of your team this year and planned to show up and ride in person, but my cancer-stricken father-in-law took a bad turn and I had to stay here.

    He is back home now and I just read your two accounts to him.

    He smiled and said, “Please thank those fat people for me.”

    So thank you Fatties!

    Fatty, Jen, et al. This Livestrong thing goes so much deeper than riding bikes. It’s about people. It’s about “How To Be Nice,” it’s about, well, you all know.

    Thanks again and I plan to join you all next year, rain or shine.

  4. Comment by KK | 08.30.2010 | 8:00 am

    A very nice write up — I think you captured the day in many dimensions. Many thanks for your unfailing good cheer in organizing the Fatty festivities.

  5. Pingback by 2011 Team Fatty Philly Recaps | shevdog`s Xlog | 08.30.2010 | 8:15 am

    [...] Philly 2010 Report, Part II: All Hail the Rainmakers This entry was posted in articles, media and tagged articles, livestrong, Philly, posts, [...]

  6. Comment by jeff | 08.30.2010 | 8:29 am

    Great write-up! I almost wet myself when I saw the porta-loos.

  7. Comment by NYCCarlos | 08.30.2010 | 8:34 am


    I actually fell in that porta potty… damn speedplay cleats are sooooooooooooooooo slippery!!!!!!!

  8. Comment by MattC | 08.30.2010 | 8:36 am

    AWESOME finale to the story Jen! So sad to hear about all your water problems, it sounds rather miserable (I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: if you want dry nice weather, plan a July road-trip and come out to San Jose!)

    Just a thought for your CO2/pump issues: my solution is that I carry an Innovations Second Wind MTB pump/CO2 unit. It’s small enough to carry in my seat bag…it’s a pump AND a CO2 unit. I carry one 16g CO2 cartridge, a spare tube, and a patch kit. IF I use my tube and suffer a 2nd flat (or stop to help someone else), I can use the patch kit…and I will NEVER run out of air. Sure it’s a small pump and getting over 60psi is some serious work (and a gazillion pump strokes)…but I can ride on 60psi until I get somewhere that I can top off…and it sure beats walking in road cleats! I carry one with each bike and have never been let down.

    Anyway…great story, great team! You all ROCK! Or, I mean… WE all ROCK! Way to to TEAM FATTY!!!

  9. Comment by jason | 08.30.2010 | 9:05 am

    Awesome to see all the Fat Cyclist kits.

  10. Comment by GJ Jackie | 08.30.2010 | 9:16 am

    Leaning tower of pee. Hahahahahahaha!

  11. Comment by Erin | 08.30.2010 | 9:21 am

    Thank you, Jenn, for sharing your stories. And for all of Team Fatty, for making it about the ride, and not times, or where you stand, or anything like that. The fact that you get out there and tackle things with all of your compassion, and in spite of all the barriers, keep going. Team Fatty you are truly remarkable, and doing so much in the battle against cancer. Thank you.

  12. Comment by Doug (WAY upstate NY) | 08.30.2010 | 9:30 am

    The ride out with thousands of rides was incredible and something I will keep with me always.

    The ride itself was fun and hard and scary. Philly Jen’s tire was the second one I replaced that day. My front tire experienced a “violent decompression” that sounded like a gun shot about 8 miles into the 100 mile ride. Luckily I was going up hill and slow so no crash. And luckily the tire itself was OK. No structural damage.

    The course is hilly and twisty. Which made going down on wet roads with wet brakes a scary thing at times. But I made the 100 mile cut-off before they closed it and got to climb Landis Store.

    I felt good and finished in just under 6 hours. Since Fatty had a 9 hour goal for his last 100 mile race, and since he is a biking/blogging god, and paced Team Radio Shack earlier this year, I am very happy with my time ;-)

  13. Comment by NJCurry | 08.30.2010 | 10:14 am

    Anyone can ride when the sun is shining – go Team Fatty!

    While taking cover from the downpour at the second power stop and praying to the sun gods, I heard someone say ‘who knew a bike ride could turn into a wet tee shirt contest – what a bonus!’.

    I couldn’t help but laugh and decided that I would embrace the wetness, forgo my fears and petal onward. But not before I made sure my sports bra was was doing it’s job!

  14. Comment by Doug (WAY upstate NY) | 08.30.2010 | 10:36 am

    I will say that the person who decided to wear white biking pants went too far. That view was really, umm, uncalled for…….

  15. Comment by Ashley | 08.30.2010 | 10:40 am

    I, too, tackled that Leaning Tower of Pee, and emerged victorious. I did take one that was less leaning, and like you, had MTB pedals/shoes so walking hills and doing yoga in the porta-potties was a bit easier.

    I remember being under the food tent back at base and Maggi saying ‘wow, I hope Jen’s not out in this’ as it was raining harder then all day. I was lucky to finish in the 30min break between rain showers.

    As we were coming in there was a SAG fixing a bike, but I guess they had their cut-offs…

  16. Comment by Ashley | 08.30.2010 | 10:40 am

    Oh and, I’m really happy I wear a tank under my Fatty jersey…who chose white, honestly?

  17. Comment by Alex | 08.30.2010 | 10:51 am

    Awesome report, Jen, and thanks for captaining Team Fatty Philly! It was a lot of fun. I was one of those “speedy guys” that turned around early… I had planned to ride 70, but only rode 45 and was thankful to get out of the weather before it started pouring.

    And to Eric, the Fatty I rode with for most of the return trip, thanks for keeping me company! It made the day a lot more enjoyable than if I’d been alone.

  18. Comment by Haven (KT) | 08.30.2010 | 11:28 am

    Awesome write-up, Jen! Sounds like a real adventure. Team Fatty ROCKS!!

  19. Comment by Joel P. | 08.30.2010 | 11:39 am

    I’d like to take this opportunity to share a few of my thoughts on LIVESTRONG Philly 2010. It rained. As some one who is usually a little shy in new group settings, this was not the case. I immediately felt at home with my Fatty Family, we ROCK. It rained. The atmosphere and energy at the LIVESTRONG Village was something to experience. My heart rate monitor showed 120 bpm before I even turned a pedal. It rained. Philly Jen is amazing. The work she does, her super powers of summoning fellow Fatties to her rescue, her love for cake are just some of the qualities she possesses. It rained. The other riders, volunteers and spectators on the course, they also ROCK. It rained. Unfortunately the hills on the course exceeded my expectations but I “endeavored to persevere” (thanks MattC for the quote) and I conquered the Landis Store climb. It rained. It was not all positive though. I found out PJ (her Fatty Philly family can call her PJ now, I think) is not infallible. Apparently she some times misplaces or forgets things (helmet) and cannot change out her own flat (or can she?). It rained. Finally, as Doug (way upstate NY) stated, white bib shorts on a long wet ride makes for uncomfortable viewing from the rear. I wish I had the legs to pass that guy as that vision has burned an image in my brain not soon to be forgotten. Oh yeah, did I mention that it rained. Sign me up for next year I would not miss it for the world.
    Joel P.

  20. Comment by Jenni | 08.30.2010 | 12:10 pm

    Jen you’re hysterical. I’m laughing out loud as I read this in a restaurant. Team Flatty – holy cow.
    You’re the best!!!

  21. Comment by thomas bagby | 08.30.2010 | 12:24 pm

    Nice to see LiveStrong Seattle ride wasn’t the only one this year to be a soggy one. Way to go team fatty on all your hard work and fundraising. Looking forward to next year’s ride in Seattle. I hope mother nature decides to be a little nicer next year and hold off on the rain.

  22. Comment by Clydesteve | 08.30.2010 | 1:55 pm

    Great write-up, Jen! Particularly the section about the Barto-Loos. Gotta lova a woman who can crack a few serial puns in the rain.

  23. Comment by AngieG | 08.30.2010 | 3:33 pm

    Team Fatty Philly- from a San Jose Fatty, you all are super heroes!!!
    @JoelP and @Doug (way upstate NY)-OMG you are so right about white cycling shorts. I had a similar experience last year at the San Jose Livestrong with a guy who was neither sweat nor follically challenged. I looked up from my wheel on a climb read to say. “On Your Left” and almost crashed. I still wake up in the middle of the night with images of Cousin It chasing me down in White Assos bibs.

  24. Comment by Carl | 08.30.2010 | 4:59 pm

    Great ride report Jen! I can’t wait to go to my local Rita’s and order “water ice” and see what they say.

  25. Comment by centurion | 08.30.2010 | 5:04 pm

    For those of you that don’t know, it didn’t just rain that day, it poured in biblical fashion. Not a day fit for riding any distance.
    I’m on my knees in praise of Team Fatty!

  26. Comment by Jennie | 08.30.2010 | 7:01 pm

    Great write-up, Jenn!

    Coincidentally, just today invested in a pair of bike shoes and cleats (to go with the spd pedals that originally came to me with Jake) – totally unconvinced that they are in any way superior to the converse all-stars and early experimentation suggests that they may secretly be an instrument of evil… are you sure there’s a benefit to clipping in?

    Oh well, I have a year to figure it out- not entirely convinced I won’t be back in the converse sneakers again next year though (hopefully for a full century though!)

  27. Comment by Susan with a bum knee | 08.30.2010 | 7:41 pm

    Dear Philly Jenn,

    Hope your suitcase of courage has fully dried out. Was in Wilmington Delaware that day hoping that Team Fatty Philly all had a hot shower and dry (of the non white spandex variety) clothes waiting after the finish.

    Rockstars, one and all.

  28. Comment by Dr. Lammler | 08.30.2010 | 7:44 pm

    Great write-up.

    The photo of the couple on the tandem shows a “rooster tail”. Was it raining?

  29. Comment by Shawn | 08.30.2010 | 8:23 pm

    Kudos Philly Jen!

  30. Comment by AK_Chick | 08.30.2010 | 11:01 pm

    Love it! Thank you Philly Jen aka PJ for your wonderful account of Fatty Philly Livestrong 2010. It was a most excellent recount. I thoroughly enjoyed it and the photos especiallly the leaning loos! I’m not a big fan of loos myself, but suspiciously, or perhaps not, all the loos I’ve encountered during bike events have been pretty clean. Not so much at the various running events I’ve attended. Yet another reason to be a reformed runner.

    I’d have to say there is nothing quite as awful as riding in the rain. Unless there is wind. And it’s a headwind. And it’s in the high 40’s to low 50’s. And it’s in Alaska in the mountains. In September. And you have 2,175 of elevation gain on day 1. Can you say “bbbbrrrrrrr?”

    However, it’s completely worth it when you’re doing it for a worty cause and helping people who suffer from a horrible disease (in my case for the MS150). Reading about the various Fatty Livestrong events has been such a treat.

    Thank you to all that have taken the time to write!

    And thanks to Fatty for hosting the posts!

  31. Comment by Ryan M. Suenaga, M.S.W., L.C.S.W. | 09.1.2010 | 1:02 am

    I heart Team Fatty Philly.


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