Weigh Less. Wait Less.

1 World 2 Wheels. Given that the average person who commits to commuting by bicycle loses 13 pounds in their first year, the health benefits of cycling are obvious. When combined with the fact that the average rush hour commuter spends 50 hours per year stuck in traffic, you may also have more time to enjoy a lighter you.

Learn how you can participate here

It means i get to avoid traffic

to and from work. Not to mention the money I save on gas.

Bicycle Sport Shop - Central Store

"More Munchies!"

posted at the Bicycle Sport Shop 517 South Lamar

Bicycle Sport Shop - Central Store

"ANOTHER CHEESEBURGER!"

Artistic depiction of cheeseburger not represented here.

posted at the Bicycle Sport Shop 517 South Lamar

Bicycle Sport Shop - Central Store

"I AM FREE"

posted at the Bicycle Sport Shop 517 South Lamar

Bicycle Sport Shop - Central Store

"Every Mile Means that I am making the most of my time here on earth. I am keeping my body strong and healthy. My brother died of cancer at the age of ten. He taught me how to ride a bike. I know he would want me to be strong and keep riding. He taught me what true bravery is. If he can battle cancer, I can keep pushing myself to go that extra mile. I'm living strong for my hero John Patrick O'Neill. {9-1-83 - 8-26-94}"

posted at the Bicycle Sport Shop 517 South Lamar Blvd.

Cancer survivor; riding off the pounds

This is my personal story about how cancer reached into my life and ripped out many loved family members. It then decided to touch me in a much more personal way. It is also my story of recovery, hope and better health.

In May 2004, I lost my father to cancer, a week later, his little brother, my dear Uncle, died from cancer. In August 2004, cancer took my cousin after she had battled it over the last decade. That was a very hard year for my family.

In May 2005, after a routine physical, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Cancer's way of trying to be ironic. In the months that followed, during treatment after the surgery, I had complications most likely due to my being so very over weight. I found out that my excess weight may have been a significant factor in my getting breast cancer as well.

In the past, I had fits and starts with weight loss and exercise, but never quite got very far and always ended up back at, or over, the number I started with. I have always loved to ride but due to my poor knees (weight and age, grandmother of 4 boys aged 5 - 15) I had difficulty sticking to this as well.

My husband, who took such great care of me during my cancer treatment, knew that I loved to ride and had hoped at some point, someone would steal my bike so I could get a new one. He saved some individual from a life of crime and instead, got me a Christmas gift certificate for a bike in 2006.

I was excited but also very embarrased about shopping for a bike at my size and age that it took me months to muster the courage to walk into the Sport Shop. Then I rushed picking out a bike, not really thinking about my future riding plan and what bike would be the best, I just wanted to get out of there. After I picked a lovely little number, it sat in my spare bedroom for another couple of months. Occationally I would have to go in that room, when I did, it would taunt me and I would glare at it. Eventually, it won.

My first ride was discouraging as I weighed so much, the seat post kept falling, so I gave up for a few months, actually dropped a little weight and with the encouragement of a friend, tried again.

A couple months later, my routine was to get up on Saturday and Sunday at 6:30 am, roll my bike out the back door with my MP3 and just get as far as I could then back home. I got farther each time I rode but the streets are a frightening place for a large grandmother to ride. I now try to find trails that are off the road, but not rugged. I have been to McKinny Falls and am able to ride the 3 mile trail 3 times before my knees scream at me to stop. Last weekend, I road the trail at Lady Bird Lake (aka Town Lake). I don't know how far I rode but ended up in another part of town and had to get back to Zilker park, it was a blast and I actually hooted a couple of times, when I could coast to catch my breath enough to hoot. (apologies to the parents and children I may have frightened by my hooting)

Cancer has not been kind to my family, it is a thief. I feel that by riding and improving my health, I am doing my part to (flip off cancer, can I say that) prevent cancer from hurting me, my husband, children and grandchildren again. Riding has boosted my self esteem and reminded me that there are fun things about life that MUST be done on a regular basis. Riding has been my time to meditate and think about how much living I still have to do.

If you see a large grandmother with a shinny purple helmet hooting on some trail around Austin, Tx, give me a wave. I love seeing others having fun and always take the time to give a nod, even as I rock on down the road or trails.

changing my life

My dad was diagnosed with brain cancer in the Summer of 2003. There is no history of cancer in my family and my dad was a relatively healthy, non-smoker who was severely addicted to golf. Dad went from healthy to brain surgery in about five days. And my mom went from happily married to terrified at least as fast. I went blank, not knowing what to do.

I had spent the better part of college and law school drinking far too many beers and smoking cigarettes and had forgotten my love of cycling that I had had as a kid. As a result, dad’s illness—and his passing 13 months later—was a wake up call. At the time of his diagnoses I was over 200 pounds, still smoking, and virtually inactive, spending long hours at my firm. Driving from New York City to Pennsylvania to see dad before his surgery it hit me—I had to ride a bike, for dad and for me.

See, dad had taken me to races like Pacers and Peddlers in Waxahachie (I think) and the Hotter ‘n Hell in Wichita Falls as a kid. I had fallen in love with cycling after seeing the movie Breaking Away and watching LeMond beat Fignon by 8 seconds in Paris. Dad was still a golfer, but he supported my interest in a then decidedly odd sport. Heck, he even got a bike and rode some. As I got older, we still chatted about the Tour each July, and that guy Armstrong who grew up in Plano just like me. So now, I had to ride.

I started to make repeated drives from New York to Pennsylvania with a bike. I would get to my folks’ town, head to the hospital to see dad for a bit (when he was recovering from surgery and then in recovery), and then eat lunch and get a ride in. Once he was home, I’d be visiting and head out for a ride, only to come back and have dad sitting in the yard, enjoying just being outside, and asking me about my ride. I realized quickly that dad’s illness, regardless of the outcome, was going to change my life. Either he was going to make it, and we’d ride, or he wasn’t, and I would ride for us both.

After about three months I remember that Lance had created a cancer foundation and hosted a ride in Austin. I got involved and made the trip to the Ride for the Roses in October of 2003. Dad had not, and would not, recover, and I’d deliver my ride report to him by cell phone. It was during that trip that my now wife suggested a move to Austin. And we did it, changing my life again.

My wife and I planned to move here and pick up our careers as lawyers. She did. I couldn’t. We both suffered through yet another bar exam, and we both passed. But I knew I was happiest on my bike. Since I wasn’t about to get a pro contract, it made much more sense to get a job at a bike shop and follow my passion and my new-found sense of joy.

Now my life has changed completely. I quick smoking cold turkey the day of dad’s surgery, I’m 45 pounds lighter, I’ve ridden thousands of miles a year and run two marathons. I can’t win the PGA Tour for dad—my golf swing is awful. But I can ride, run, and be happy as a way to honor him. Nothing beats telling dad about my rides. I do it every time I finish a ride. And I tell him how grateful I am that we changed my life by getting back on the bike.

Another Chance

I'd been in plenty of tough situations in my life before cancer. CFS, some dicey deployments in the Army, but none were as aggravating. My health was up and down since 2001, but in summer of 2003 I changed doctors. That's where the fun began.

I went for my initial physical and he found a lump on my lymph nodes in my groin. After some tests it was determined to be malignant, and I found out I had stage one Non Hodgkin's Lymphoma. After fighting my health insurance for a few months I was finally approved to have the tumore removed. So in late 2003 I got ready for surgery.

Surgery went well, and I decided to return to racing after a year off. So in March 204 I lined up for my first race. Though it was painful, I finished third to last, in 30 degree windy weather 20 minutes behind the winner. Was it worth it? Definitely. Two months later I won a prologue in a stage race, placing 5th overall including the pros. At that point I knew I was going to recover, it was just a matter of time.

I kept racing and improving, and still do. I need to ride for various reasons, and every time I'm ut on the road it tells me I'm winning so far. I race because I still have some anger about getting sick, plus I'm competitive. It's my therapy. I'm one of the lucky ones. W caught it by luck, very early, and I was fortunate to be in a clinical study that my body responded to very well.

Cycling is the beauty of life, triumph over adversity, and the knowledge that I can dig deep and beat whatever comes at me. No matter how bad I feel, I just have to look around, enjoy the ride, and smile that I'm able to do that.

Taking It Back

The year I lost my Dad to cancer my Mom was diagnosed. At the time Lance Armstrong had just won his second Tour de France and was making headlines across America. This was very inspirational to my Mom at the time, but I think made a greater impact on me. After reading a few chapters I decided that I was going to buy a bike, quit smoking and start pedaling away from cancer.

I had always had a love for cycling, but had not been on a bike since I was a teenager. I took to it immediately and began riding just about every day. The more I rode the better I felt. I never imagined that such a simple thing could do so much. Riding my bike was not only strengthening my body, but nurturing my soul. The more I rode the better I felt and the stress and emotion that comes along with loosing a parent and watching another one head down the same path was somehow put on pause. And when the ride was finally over I was centered enough to take care of my business without falling apart.

Sadly, for my Mom she happened be 1 of 1% that could not do chemo and she died in December of 2001. In 2002 myself and 15 others rode our bikes 200 miles in 1 day from Austin to Mustang Island (Port Aransas) in their [my parents] memory. This was the day I took my life back. This was the day that I said cancer wasn't going to get me. So for me, sorry Lance, it is about the bike. So far it has saved my life...in more ways than I can count.