This was supposed to be a one-time thing.

I was having a midlife crisis. I signed up to take on an audacious challenge. My ride team's name was guaranteed to disappoint my mom. I did the thing. I survived it. I’d move on.

Only that’s not how the ride works. For an experience that is about moving forward, it has a surprising ability to make a guy reflect.

The ride is a busy experience. The reality of travelling 545 miles through California on a bicycle is that you are constantly working both physically and mentally. You are in fight-or-flight mode all day, every day, as you ride along highways or push your way up and over mountains. There’s just a lot to be done, and the process of surviving is so present in your mind that you can miss what’s happening to your heart.

My heart grew at least three sizes on this ride.                                                                                         

Watching a community struggle together.

Watching a community support each other.

Watching a community grieve together.

It sneaks up on you, smashes your heart to pieces, and then puts it all back bigger and stronger than it was before. Because at some point you stop, look around, and you finally realize that you are actually a part of it. That is your sweat on the ground. That is your hand reaching out. Those are your tears falling.

I am a better person because of this ride and these people. I know this like I know my name.

So, Im doing it again. I’m going back out there and joining this wonderful community of riders, roadies, and organizers to try and keep that momentum going.

Keep making the change we need in this world.

Keep creating access to healthcare for those in real need.

Keep providing housing for youth who have nowhere else to turn.

Keep offering love, support, and appreciation for people in Los Angeles who don’t have the luxury of taking it for granted.

Please help me in any way you can.