As many of you already know, this summer I'll be bicycling across the country with the amazing organization Bike and Build. Bike and Build is a non-profit which raises money for and awareness of affordable housing efforts through cross-country bike trips with young adults each summer. Each cyclist commits to raising $4,000, 500 miles of training, 8 hours of volunteer "sweat equity", and creating an affordable housing education presentation before the trip begins. Once the trip starts, long cycling days averaging 75 miles are interspersed with days of construction with affordable housing organizations across the country. We'll also give presentations to the communities we visit and run bicycle safety clinics for children, hopefully inspiring people to pick up a hammer, get on a bicycle, or both (though not at the same time).
So why am I doing this? Several reasons, not the least of which is because I think I can't. I am not a naturally athletic person. No one believes me when I say this, but truly, I'm not. Blessed with an, ahem, Rubenesque figure, and naturally inclined to hibernation in all seasons, I am not physically or mentally well outfitted for athletics of any kind. That being said, I decided some years ago to continually challenge myself, seek out new experiences, and always pursue health and fitness.
Four or five years ago, at the dawn of this Challenge As A Lifestyle decision, I could barely get through 20 minutes of running on a treadmill without feeling like I was dying. Now I'm a half-marathon runner and honestly, I've actually really been missing running since I ramped up my cycling training. My point is that while I am not a naturally athletic person, I am proud to say that I am an athletic person. But it's all come from hard work, and none of it compares to the hard work ahead of me in bicycling across the country.
Thinking about bicycling 4,000 miles from coast to coast fills me with excitement, fear, curiosity, inspiration, and dread. Who am I to think that I can do this? Sometimes I am so overwhelmed with self-doubt that I just want to curl up in bed and never so much as look at a bicycle again. But I know from experience that there is no greater feeling than that of achieving something you thought you could not do. It is my sincere hope that by doing something so challenging I will inspire others (i.e., you) to push themselves beyond their perceived limits. Trust me, if I can bicycle across the country, you can do absolutely anything you put your mind to.
My other main reason for signing up for Bike and Build is my desire to do something for my country, and incorporate service as a mainstay in my lifestyle. I have been unbelievably blessed in my life, and have long been acutely aware of how many are less fortunate. Immersed in the often self-absorbed world of music, I always justified not volunteering or serving others by telling myself "I have to practice" or "I'll do that later." Well, "later" is today, and yesterday, and the day before, and I am sick of making excuses and putting things off. Whether music is a selfish career choice is another topic for another blog, but what I know for sure is that I want to dedicate my life to service just as much as I dedicate it to art. Bike and Build counts as one of its main aims the fostering of the spirit of service in young people, and many of my fellow riders have already accumulated impressive records of helping others. I am thrilled to have the chance to work with and be inspired and humbled by them, and learn from them what it means to make volunteering a priority in one's life.
It is a rather odd sensation for me to look ahead to this summer knowing I will be a different person after it. But while I love Abby for who she is now, I am excited to meet the Abby I will become as a result of participating in this extraordinary summer experience. I am anticipating hours of painful effort on the bike, panic attacks from my first summer away from singing since I chose it as a profession a decade ago, moments of regret (what am I DOING??) and loneliness, and saddle sores so profound they may become permanent (gross but true). But I know these things will pale in comparison to the exhilaration that comes from meeting new people, seeing new places, trying new things, and helping people in a tangible way.
Thank you to all of you for the incredible support you've shown me over the past few months as I prepare for this journey. Thanks specifically to:
--all of my sponsors. Your generosity is mind boggling.
--my riding buddies Mark, Mandi, Krista, and especially Oliver,
--Daniela, for providing the slick piano to my lame jazz vocals for my fundraising CD,
--Noodles & Company for hosting my fundraising dinner, and Justin, Kaia, Mark, Mandi, Alize, Benny, Annie, Bethany, Steven, Lisa, Arwen, Beth, Nick, Thomas, Johanna, Ken, Daniela, Amanda, and Jenny for coming and bringing friends,
--the IU Taekwondo club, for always pushing me to be my best, surrounding me with so many hardworking and inspiring people, and coming to my fundraising dinner and threatening to throw down when a cashier wouldn't accept the flyers,
--my extraordinary, fabulous, frighteningly talented mother, whose gorgeous quilts dazzled everyone and raised a ton of funds,
--my amazing family, who supports me in every crazy scheme I come up with,
--and most of all Oliver, who inspired me to go on this trip in the first place, taught me everything I know about the bicycle, joined me on hundreds of miles of training rides, recorded my fundraising CD, and has helped with every conceivable thing that has needed doing in preparation for this trip.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you to everyone I've ever met in my entire life--knowing you has brought me to this point, and I am extremely excited, amazingly scared, and uncommonly blessed.
Monday, May 18, 2009
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