A Note from Fatty: I love publishing readers’ stories from their 100 Miles of Nowhere efforts. Today, though, I want to do something a little different: give you a peek into Don B’s preparation for the 100 Miles of Nowhere. Partially, I’m doing this because Don has put something awesome together.
More than that, however, I wanted to point it out because of how Don is doing this. Specifically, he’s doing something amazing by not being afraid to ask people he knows — people who have access to resources — to do something good.
The whole secret to fundraising success, as far as I’m concerned, is exactly what Don is doing (and what I’ve done for about ten years now): gather your courage and ask people to join you in doing something good. I believe that most people want to do good things, and when given a compelling vision, will join you.
So: read this, and start thinking about what your own plan is. And whether you’re doing something on your own, with a few friends or family, or doing a big event, thank you.
And also, please register for the 100 Miles of Nowhere. This Friday (21 October) is the last day you can.
Don B’s 100 Miles of Nowhere at The Lebanon I-44 Speedway
Saturday, November 12th, 2016 I plan to ride a bicycle 100 miles. This distance, in and of itself, is not unusual for me. I’ve done it several times a year for the past ten years.
This 100 mile bike ride is different, though. I’m riding nowhere. I’m riding in circles. On a mountain bike. A rigid, single speed mountain bike. I’m riding on Missouri’s only NASCAR-sanctioned race track located in my hometown of Lebanon.
There. I’ve said it.
“Why would you want to do this?” you’re thinking to yourself. And — let’s be honest —it’s possible you’re thinking way worse things right now.
I’ll give you a little background to supplement my answer.
I like testing the limits of my endurance. I’m not fast, but rarely cave to the demons that come calling after 10, 20, or 30 consecutive hours of cycling. I enjoy the bond of shared cycling suffering. Paramount to this fairly selfish endeavor, I enjoy helping my fellow human beings, specifically those less fortunate among us. Individuals or families facing difficulties inherent to the diagnosis of cancer. I know these difficulties all too well and want to help ease the burden.
As a reader of this blog, you’re well versed on Fatty’s generosity. He and his family have inspired me on several occasions, but Fatty’s “100 Miles of Nowhere” fundraiser has been growing stronger on my radar for some time. His campaign to support Camp Kesem is exemplary of his selflessness. I’ve read 100 Miles of Nowhere race reports and watched videos of years past, enjoying the ludicrousness of it all. Hours on a trainer, 100 miles of circling the block, hill repeats, etc. They’re crazy awesome efforts, and I applaud them. This year I decide to join the fun.
I’m fortunate to call one of the owners of the Lebanon I-44 Speedway my friend, and approached him with the idea of riding 100 Miles of Nowhere on the track. I thought it would be a unique experience (and substantially less monotonous than a trainer). He immediately agreed to my request.
With a location secured, I entertained ideas to fan the flames of crazy. What could I do to make this effort more insane? It just so happens I’m a member of two local cycling teams, Springfield Brewing Company, and Team Kuat Racks, both of which are brimming with like-minded individuals up for a challenge.
This is a fundraiser for a great cause. If one rider is good, then 20-30 riders is exponentially more awesome! (we’re +20 riders to date). I set up a Facebook event with 10+ riders joining in the first few days.
The event page opened doors to even more generosity. There are a multitude of kind people supporting this cause. A national advertising company posting digital billboards in the city of Lebanon with specifics of the event.
A worldwide supplier of nutritional supplements is sending race day fuel
How’s your 22 mph hand-up?
With Fatty’s 100 Miles of Nowhere registration closing on Friday, Oct. 21st I would ask you to channel your inner cycling freak, and get registered.