#goodbyefoodvan

In fact, there was a lot to take care of now that we had made it to Seattle. I had booked the red-eye flight that evening and still needed to get the box for my bike, print shipping labels, find a FedEx and pack my bike away. Not to mention, get myself to the airport. I’d organized picking up a box from a local bike shop about 2 miles from the park so I biked over there to pick it up and carted it back to the park. No easy feat. I’d offered to take one of the vans back to the airport, which was incredibly fortunate for me, too! It was surprisingly easy to say goodbye to my teammates. I think because I knew we were so connected through this shared experience, that it wasn’t in any way an ending. We would be in touch through the infamous GroupMe and all over Eric in the FB group to get him to finish his documentary. Speaking of, Eric - it’s been two years. Where is it?? 

We had parting words, then I threw all my stuff in the van (including Elli) and headed to the library to print off labels and boarding passes. The library was really neat!! It was SO large and had SO many books, and it was air conditioned. Sometimes its the small victories. After that, I headed to FedEx to box up my bike and send it on its way. First of all, packing a bike is very difficult for those who haven’t had to do it, but somehow Elli and I were all packed up and I said goodbye to the bike that had carried me so far. We grabbed Matt and headed to the hotel they were staying at where I gratefully was able to take a shower before heading to the airport. I said my goodbyes to Elli and Matt and took that ratchet food van to the airport. I don’t think the rental car return guy knew what to do with me. The van was absolutely wrecked - there was half a watermelon leeched in the floor, it reeked of sunscreen, sweat and old Subway and had grease stains all over. I must have pulled out 20 or so bags of goldfish that had been on top of, under, and in between seats. 

Rental guy: How did the rental work out for you? Me: Well, it got me across the country.

Rental guy looking over the van.

Rental guy: So, what exactly were you doing along the way? Me: {Insert 4K spiel here} Rental guy: Alright, we’re gonna need to open the windows before we go through this...biking, huh? So you weren’t actually in this thing along the way then. That’s good.

After removing my sweatshirt, my duffel bag was 0.5 lbs under the limit (hallelujah!). My flight was delayed, but I was far used to hiccups in plans by this time. And, eventually, I would get on my flight and fly all night through 3 time zones back to Baltimore. My 4K journey had come to an end.

One thing I realized in the next few days, was that there wasn’t really a time for reflection after the final day of the 4K. And it is a difficult thing to talk about with people who haven’t done it - don’t get me wrong, I could talk about the 4K for ever and to anyone if they asked. But if they did, I think they may have not realized what they were getting themselves in for. You know how sometimes people will tell a story, then say “I guess you had to be there”? Or even worse when they say they have a funny story and are laughing to themselves to tears and say, “well, it was funnier when it happened.” (Yes, I hate that, too.) Well, that, for the most part, is what its like trying to talk about the 4K. 

It was fortunate I had a new adventure in the form of my first post-grad job ahead of me. I had a lot to do before moving and beginning work and it certainly kept me distracted. But, that life and the 4K life are very different and I certainly missed 4K a great deal. 

I saw my Nonna not long after I had started my new job. She and my aunt were taking a cruise and it stopped in Bar Harbor, not far from where I was in Maine. So I took a day to go up to Acadia and see them. During the 4K, there were several times I was reminded of why I had decided to do it in the first place. From climbing what felt like the worst hills on day 2, to fighting horrendous wind and rain in Lake Lillian, from meeting complete strangers who would feed us or allow us into their homes, to kids who would share their s’mores with me around a camp fire. Then there were those who shared their connections to cancer with us; the survivors, fighters and memories we encountered along the way and the people and places we visited that were making a difference. From the nurse who played her guitar and sang to us like she did for patients in Minneapolis, to the Pams of the world, and the Camp Mak-a-Dreams and Hope’s Places. These people and their stories added to a place in my heart, a place that I could tap into on the ride when I needed it in the best and worst moments and many in between. A place where my Nonna’s life and so many others had already touched and thus, would touch these new additions and connect us all.  

Cancer is a battle no one chooses to undertake. When I first made my 4K profile, I wrote, “[w]hile there is nothing that can truly compare to battling cancer, I hope my journey across the country shows the commitment I have made to those fighting cancer. I will ride for those who cannot and will make steps towards ensuring no one faces cancer alone.” 

By sharing stories - stories of friendship, faith, love, courage - beautiful things can come from something so utterly horrible. If we don’t share experiences how can we grow and inspire and survive and make sure no one faces this alone?

To bend, to simplify, to open, to support, to encircle, to bond, to light.