12.16.2013 | 12:34 pm
A Mark-Yer-Calendar Note from Fatty: One thing you may have noticed with all five of these bikes that we’re giving away with this fundraiser: they are all loaded up with top notch SRAM parts. And that ain’t cheap. At all.
Which means that of all the companies who are sponsoring this Grand Slam for Zambia: The Power of 5 fundraiser, SRAM is the biggest. Which you probably already knew.
But what you may not have known is that SRAM sponsors World Bicycle Relief in a huge way, year round.
And tomorrow, we’re going to have a nice Spreecast talk with the President of SRAM and the President of World Bicycle Relief, to talk about why they do this and how it all works. It should be an amazing chat.
So mark your calendar for 3PM ET / 12noon PT and come back to this site; I’ll have a link to the Spreecast URL at that time.
If you were right here, you’d be in massive danger of getting a big ol’ Fatty-style hug. So you’re lucky you’re not here. And I am too, I guess, because since you’re not here I don’t have to worry about the awkwardness that would ensue after this hug.
But still: consider yourself hugged, virtually, by a beloved, award-winning blogger who is currently right on the threshold of needing to start wearing his seasonal fat pants.
Let me tell you why.
Awesome Email
The first reason I’m so happy is because you people have already donated $56,616 in the Grand Slam for Zambia: The Power of 5 fundraiser. That’s a lot of money.
And as you’re donating, some of you are sending email that makes me, well, kinda proud to be a part of this. In particular, someone sent this one to Scot Nicol (Chuck Ibis) upon learning about Ibis’s participation in this fundraiser:
Hey Chuck,
Thank you so much for sharing this with me. I totally get the joys associated with riding a bike, especially with my family and friends, but I never really thought about how it could change lives until I saw this video. It really stirred up some emotions within me as I realized how fortunate I am to have always had a bike!
I immediately hit the link to donate my $5 until I realized that it only takes $134 to buy one complete bike. Heck my dream Ibis is $10,000! So I bought a bike and found great pleasure in knowing that some other awesome person is going to match that, so two bikes will now be donated!
I have asked my family to donate to this cause in lieu of any Christmas gifts for me and I am sharing your email with my community. It is my goal to get 10 bikes donated! I have always really appreciate all the charity initiatives that Ibis supports and have contributed to them all, but this one is something else!
Thanks again for sharing and Merry Christmas!
And that’s just one email. Your comments in blog posts tell similar stories. So thanks for that.
Awesome Blog Post
You may know that last winter I used Beeminder as a way to help me track and stay honest with my weight loss goals. What you may not know is that the folks at Beeminder use their own tool to make sure they hit their own product development goals, with $1000 on the line for the first time they didn’t hit their goal.
And when they didn’t, Henrik was right there to collect the $1000 premium. Which Beeminder gladly paid.
At which point, Henrik turned around and donated it in this fundraiser. Which, effectively, paid for 14 bikes for WBR (paid for 7, matched for another 7).
This story totally made my day — and I think it will make yours, too. Read the whole thing here.
And then go donate.
Comments (19)
12.13.2013 | 12:47 pm
Sometimes I work through things by writing. Today is one of those times. And I’d love to have your thoughts as well.
Maybe you’ve noticed that I don’t talk a lot about pro cycling much — if at all — anymore. As an example, check my archive for this year and see how much I wrote about the Tour de France (hint: I can’t remember writing anything at all about it).
Part of that has to do with the fact that, to me, my own riding and racing seems a lot more interesting (and dramatic) to me lately, and I write about what interests me.
Part of it has to do with the “Once bitten, twice shy” thing.
But even though I don’t write about it much in the blog, I do still follow it. And so, after reading an extremely well-conducted interview with Lance Armstrong yesterday, I tweeted:
To which my friend Paul Guyot replied:
I can understand Paul’s point of view. But you know, I can’t help it. I followed Lance for a long time, got to know him (I thought) a little bit, spent a ton of my fundraising efforts on LiveStrong. So I’m still interested when he says things like this:
And that’s been the biggest issue I think, is that this hurt the support that survivors had and their friends and family had and the organization had. I know this will sound bad, but I don’t really care what the hard-core cycling geek thinks. I don’t. No offense to them. But I care about what a supporter of Livestrong thinks, and I care about what the survivor thinks. I think back to someone who was diagnosed back in 1999, and this whole story they believed in. And more than that, they fought for me, whether it’s in an online discussion or in a hallway or a workplace or café or bar, they had my back. And now they got egg on their face. That’s the thing that hurts me the most and the thing I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for. And I hope I can. I’m in timeout right now. And I may be in timeout forever. But I hope not to be.
I’m pretty sure I’m one of those guys with egg on his face. I might even be one of the more prominent ones, what with Team Fatty having raised close to two million dollars for LiveStrong. But the sole interaction I’ve had with Lance Armstrong, post-Oprah, is that he’s unfollowed me on Twitter.
Which, you know, doesn’t exactly jibe with what Lance is saying above.
But here’s the thing. This past few post-Oprah months has been useful. I’ve considered a little more deeply how I want to spend my fundraising time and effort (and — much less importantly — my charitable giving). And I’ve decided I want my efforts to go to charities that help individual people, in very specific ways.
Like, for example, the way a World Bicycle Relief bicycle helps an individual child stay in school. Or the way Camp Kesem helps children compensate for the unhappiness and stress of having a parent with cancer.
I feel like I’m now a more thoughtful — and maybe a little more careful — person. I still want to make a difference in the world, but I think I’ve got a better idea of what kind of difference. So the end result, for me, has been positive.
And I wish Lance well, too. I hope he’s able to find a path toward redemption and greater involvement with things that matter to him.
As for me, I’ve got plenty of work to do, and am grateful for those who are helping me do it.
Comments (45)
12.9.2013 | 12:32 pm
I wonder how many times in my life the bicycle will amaze me. The way this incredibly topheavy-looking machine manages to stay upright with just a couple square inches of rubber touching the ground. It’s like it’s defying gravity.
Or the way it moves much faster than you otherwise could, while requiring less energy, in spite of the fact that your net weight is higher. It’s like it’s defying the laws of physics.
Or the way they can make you happy, just by being out on one, going somewhere…or nowhere.
Or — and this is what I want to talk about today — the way they can help save lives.
I’ve talked a lot about how World Bicycle Relief bikes donated to kids help them get to school, as well as how bikes give them more time for their work and studies. But WBR bikes are also given to volunteer health caregivers, who use them to visit the people who desperately need their help.
These bikes make it possible for these health caregivers to see more people. To help them get water. To bring them medicine. To get them to the clinic. To give them the moral support they need. To, in short, save their lives.
Today, I’m lucky enough to be the first person to get to show you the latest video in World Bicycle Relief’s “Mobilize Me” series, about the power of a bike. Please watch what Royce, a volunteer caregiver rural Zambia, is able to accomplish with a Buffalo Bicycle has to say:
So, yes. The $134 bicycle you donate might make it so that a person (no, make that two people, because of the dollar-for-dollar matching) like Royce is able to see five times as many patients. Helping people, educating them, and improving lives throughout her village.
That amazes me. And makes me so happy.
I’ve written a little bit more about the volunteer caregivers who get WBR bikes. Take a look at that post…and then take the time to donate. You might win win one of the five incredible bikes we’ll be giving away.
Comments (8)
12.6.2013 | 9:38 am
A Note from Fatty: The Grand Slam for Zambia: The Power of 5 is going strong. To learn the basics of this amazing event, click here. To learn about the Ibis Ripley (one of 5 bikes to be given away as prizes), click here. To learn more about World Bicycle Relief itself, click here. And to make a donation to be entered in this contest, click here.
Lament in Three Parts Over Inclement Weather in an Oft-Sunny Clime
Betimes I consider
How it could be possible
That I have stumbled
Into this, my life
How is it that I am me
And not another
Some other guy
Who maybe doesn’t even own a bike
When I think such Thoughts
My heart recoils
And I once again
Reflect upon my luck
For I ride with the core team
And each autumn we get together
For an event called Fall Moab
Which—truth be known—is only occasionally in Moab
But it is during the autumn!
And usually it is perfect
The weather is mild
Note how I said “usually,” above
Part I: The Bad
The core team gathered
With intent
To ride in St George
For a long weekend
We had plans
Oh such grand plans
To stay in the yurt
Which Kenny has built
A yurt on Gooseberry Mesa!
Surely it will, one day,
Be a coveted destination
A place to stay while riding in beautiful desert
But not this day
For the weather kicked up
As we drove to St George
And the snow was so hard-driven
We nearly turned around
But we did not
No, we did not turn around
But we also did not stay in a yurt
We camped, instead, at Kenny and Heather’s home
Part II: The Good
I confess I was weak
I had my doubts
And in short
Riding in the rain didn’t sound that great
And yet, it was great
Sure, we didn’t ride as far
Or as long
But sometimes, riding at all is what matters
And when it comes right down to it
Most of us are closing in on 50
And one good ride per day
Is probably enough
And so we rode
For three days
On local trails
Often, beginning from Kenny’s house
And you know
Maybe Fall Moab
Isn’t about where or how much
But about who is there
Yeah, let’s go with that for now
Part III: The Video
I shall now conclude
With a video montage
Of Fall Moab 2014
(Fiscal)
Thank you.
Comments (11)
11.27.2013 | 9:29 am
A Note from Fatty: If you came to my blog today to find my mashed potatoes recipe, click here. If you came for the banana cream parfait, the recipe is here. And if you came to buy a t-shirt, you’re too late.
Every year since 2007, I’ve had a day-before-Thanksgiving tradition: to write a “thankful” post (2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012). This year, I have a few things in particular I want to mention.
Thankful for the Off-Season
2013 was an amazing riding year for The Hammer and me. We did a half-Ironman. We did the Rockwell Relay. Leadville. Crusher in the Tushar. Salt to Saint. 24 Hours in Old Pueblo. 25 Hours in Frog Hollow. The LiveStrong Challenge. Africa in Moab. Levi’s GranFondo. The 100 Miles of Nowhere. And more.
Neither of us have ever been so fit or fast. Neither of us have ever raced so much, and The Hammer has made the podium her home.
Now, the final race of the year is behind us. And we haven’t really started thinking about our 2014 schedule yet.
And it feels wonderful to not have a race to be thinking about. To not have something to train for.
You know what happened yesterday? I’ll tell you. It’s going to blow your mind.
I was busy working on my book and daylight kind of got away from me, so an outside ride was out of the question. It was very cold outside, so I didn’t The Hammer said, “Well, you can go set up the rollers and do a Sufferfest video or watch something on Netflix if you want.”
And I said, “Nope. I’m just not going to work out today.”
That’s right. I just didn’t ride. It wasn’t a rest day. It wasn’t a taper. I just took the day off.
And it was exquisite.
Now, I don’t intend to stop riding altogether. After all, this was the first day in about a week I hadn’t bundled up and gotten out on a ride, and I’ve been having fun on these rides. But when you’ve been riding on a very strict and focused schedule for about nine months, to be able to just shrug your shoulders and say, “To hell with it, I’m not riding today,” feels incredibly luxurious and indulgent.
And that is why, at least partially, I haven’t gotten into cyclocross. I’ve been racing and racing and racing. I am all raced out. The thought of getting up early on weekend mornings, gathering my stuff together, feeling the race anxiety build in my gut, flogging myself on a muddy course, then spending the rest of the day cleaning my bike and gear…well, it doesn’t appeal to me. At least it doesn’t appeal to me as much as going out and mellowly riding random trails at Lambert Park.
I am currently loving riding or not riding, as the mood strikes me.
I am thankful for, in short, the off-season.
Thankful for Now
I spend a lot of time thinking about this one: I’m really thankful that I live when I do. I start thinking about what a person like me would do fifty years ago. Before there was social media and personal publishing. Before there were incredible bikes available at reasonable prices. Before the world was, in short, a technology wonderland.
I’ve raised millions of dollars (around three million at this point) for charitable causes I care deeply about. I couldn’t have done that before easy electronic payments were possible. Or before blogging. Or social networking.
I’ve written one book, published two, and am working on a third. Until a few years ago, my publishing options were incredibly limiting. Now they’re wide-open.
Until a few years ago, the likelihood of me finding the few thousand like-minded people in the world and then haphazardly establishing a friendship with all these people would have been none. The odds against me meeting the guys at Twin Six and putting together a great partnership and friendship — now in its sixth year — would have been huge.
The fact is, the stuff I love doing wasn’t possible even a few years ago. I’m thankful to be living in what is, essentially, a science fiction paradise.
The Honey Stinger Dark Chocolate Mocha Cherry Protein Bar
I know, expressing gratitude for a protein bar may seem kind of weird. Until you try this particular protein bar.
People
The Hammer. My kids. The Core Team. My readers. I have somehow wound up in a life with an incredible group of people around me, both physically and virtually.
For whatever part you have had in my life, thank you.
Comments (35)
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