Pedal Power with a Purpose

Yesterday, I learned that while it may be small, when it puts its mind to it, my new hometown can be mighty. Around 9:30 a.m., I entered the Century High School gymnasium with the intent of riding a spin bike as far as I could for 20 minutes. I was one of 1300 people participating in the Great American Bike Race, an annual effort to raise money to support local people affected by cerebral palsy and related disabilities. By my calculation, over 2% of the town's population passed through the gym doors that day, while the scope of supporters was, of course, much larger. I heard we raised around a quarter of a million dollars. I had lucked into a coveted spot when my swimming friend Mike was unable to participate and gave me the chance to step in. I rode on a 12-person squad from Hub Insurance, captained by Laif (see photo below -- he won a coffee cup for posting the best ride in his heat) who did everything in his power to help me figure stuff out and have a good ride. Oh, and feel at home. A Hub Insurance colleague, Louie, had a son who lost his life to cerebral palsy several years ago; it meant a lot to meet her and her daughter, and be part of the group. In case you are wondering, riding a spin bike as fast as you can for 20 minutes no picnic. All the tension is pulled out of the bike, so the whole idea is to simply make your legs fly with the speediest cadence you can muster. I'm more of a Jan Ullrich than a Lance Armstrong style rider, so I was a little lost without the feeling of big gears. I think I hung around 21 miles per hour. And it was hard.

We rode in the recreational division (our team was made up of swimmers, runners, guys who play basketball and golf, and two very nice high school hockey stars, among others who I didn't have the chance to meet...I'm not sure there was a serious cyclist among our ranks). I'm not certain how we finished up, though midway through the event we were hanging in second place and averaging over 7 miles per person.

Our bright yellow steed was parked next to the "celebrity" bike; I watched the chief of police, the tax commissioner, and even the mayor of Bismarck, John Warford (he's the rider in purple below) put their muscle behind the cause.

There were also teams of grandmas and grandpas who rocked in rocking chairs for 20 minutes instead of riding spin bikes.

My swim coach friend Loic, who participated on a team with his wife, described the Great American Bike Race as "overwhelming." Not in the physical sense, but in the spiritual one that's about community and caring.

It was a powerful thing to be part of. Thank you, everyone, who supported me with your messages and your pledges.