TNT and the Commonwealth of the Goo

TNT and the Commonwealth of the Goo

I’m aware of growing increasingly pessimistic over the past six years so I wasn’t too surprised when more than one person suggested that my little essays could use some brightening. I suspect my mood reflects some combination of aging and circumstance. But the comment was on target. As a therapist, I know the importance of focusing on positive goals as clients struggle to move beyond understanding and sharing their pain.

What kind of world would I feel at home in? Is it even possible? Those questions were radiating softly in the background when I got caught up on the margins of a major bicycling event, the Tour de Tucson. No, I wasn’t the athlete, at least not this time. I was the supportive spouse who went along, not for the ride but simply to watch the ride. Last summer, Jan decided to get in shape and honor some special people who’ve struggled with leukemia while also chipping away at some deep personal barriers by signing up for the local Team in Training chapter. Her goal: to complete the 109 mile El Tour de Tucson. Never mind that she was a beginner, out of shape, and still gun-shy from a broken ankle a couple of years back.

From the beginning, she found strong and consistent support from the TNT coaches, Cathy, Denise and Sheryl, as well as from her team members. Here she was, struggling to keep up, afraid she might fall off, and all they did was stay with her, encourage her and show her how to accomplish her goal. No shaming, no bullying, just positive encouragement and healthy challenges. The most gentle touch of all was the hand on the back that different coaches offered toward the end of difficult rides – not to propel her forward, simply to provide human support of the most concrete kind.

Hills are the killers, whether short and steep or long and grinding. She learned how to use her gears and that it was okay to finish on foot if necessary. And they gave her goo, gobs and gobs of goo. Goo is what they call little packages of, well, gooey gunk that these bicyclists suck down to give them energy while riding. (Officially, the main brand is actually Gu but, like Kleenex, it has come to stand for all goo.)

She progressed steadily, finishing longer and longer rides as the training continued. She signed up for “spin” classes (the non-political kind) at a gym to supplement her training rides.

However, she hit a major hurdle when she was nudged to buy shoes and pedals that lock into each other so that feet won’t slip around and waste energy on long rides. This raised her panic to a high level because she feared falling and not being able to free her foot – highlighting the possibility of re-breaking her ankle.

Team members recommended a special stationary stand for her bike so that she could practice cycling and locking and unlocking her shoes from the pedals. She and I worked on this together, but I don’t think she was every able to fully overcome her panic. The best solution she found was to keep in mind the sense of adventure with which she started.

Then, in mid-November, we headed out for Tucson. Now, Tucson is a town with which I am familiar, having lived there at three different times in my life for a total of 12 years. I love the Sonoran desert that surrounds the city. This desert continues to feel more home to me than any place else, even when Tucson the city stopped feeling that way. I knew the ride would be gorgeous, particularly the portions on the east and north side of the city.

On Friday, the day before the ride, we had lunch with a special friend who has been a mentor and spiritual guide to me since I was a teenager, now a good friend to us both. Lee kept calling Jan, “the athlete,” a nice blessing for her. That evening we prepared her bike and spent a relatively sleepless night waiting for the crack of the predawn. My only real job was to take some pictures of the Central California TNT chapter as they readied themselves to ride over to the starting area. The race was to start at 7 a.m., but the bulk of the group headed out a little after 6 to jockey for position.

I walked over to watch the start with Sheryl, a Leukemia Foundation employee, coach and event official. I was awestruck by the mob of more than 8,000 cyclists who were assembled for the long ride. Despite the number and despite being jammed close together, they were exceptionally orderly and respectful. The elite (based upon their prior performances) were separated out into platinum, gold, silver, and bronze groups, starting at the head of the pack and racing for time. The total TNT riders from all over the nation made up about 12% of the 8,000 Tour de Tucson riders. They were a special sub-group as I would find out during the day.

I watched the race from different locations during the day and discovered that the TNT folks gave each other extra-special encouragement whenever they saw each other, above and beyond what all participants would give each other. The TNT support crews at Catalina State Park (about mile 67) took turns standing along the highway, cheering and applauding especially hard for the TNT cyclists, yelling out, “Good job!” This and other phrases were said with enthusiasm and sincerity every time. They knew how hard these riders were working.

In the end, Jan was forced to stop at mile 85.5 when, as I put it, the lights went out. At sundown, the event is shut down due to the danger of riding in the dark. But she was never alone. Coach Cathy, foregoing her own chance at finishing the full Century, stayed with Jan until the end, as did a duo of motorcycle cops. Cathy and the police escort continued to be encouraging even as Jan knew she had to stop.

I learned that Jan was going to be “SAGed” back (the SAG are the Support and Gear people and vehicles). I knew she would be deeply disappointed so I waited by the TNT sign-in tables in the growing darkness. I saw her silhouette finally, complete with the raisin box tied to the helmet, and welcomed her with open arms. She said I seemed to mysteriously appear out of the dark. I held her while she cried.

As she signed in, they offered her a pin and she protested, “But I didn’t finish!” They just smiled and handed her the pin then directed her to where she could gather her medallion for finishing 80 miles.

On the way back to the hotel, we passed several TNT riders from other chapters headed for the victory celebration dinner. All of them shouted out, “Good job!” and “Great ride!” and “Way to go!” We ran into a group of the local TNT chapter; they knew Jan had not finished the full ride. Without hesitation, they were demonstrably supportive. In the midst of this moment, Coach Sheryl happened to call, wanting to know how Jan was. So, I gave the phone to Jan who started crying again. Once more, people crowded around, giving her hugs and encouragement. They knew how hard she had worked and how far she had come.

The level of support from local TNT participants as well as the TNT members from other chapters, from local citizens and cops, even from the temporarily displaced citizens, was phenomenal. Here were people caring about each other as well as caring about the various purposes of the ride – raising money for cancer research, celebrating the glories of Tucson and the rigors of cycling for 109 miles. It all came together in a special way, embodying themes that exemplify concern for the common good, for the commonwealth of all.

Yes, this is the kind of world in which I would like to live. The fact that this is possible even temporarily suggests that it may be able to be achieved on a more sustainable basis. I know that there is much more that would have to be done to make this endure indefinitely, not the least of which is learning how to understand and appreciate differences as a part of resolving conflict. But the ideal of Shalom is a dream deeply implanted in the human soul and is fully worth our efforts to realize – for one day and 109 miles in one community, and on into the future and around the globe.

– David E. Roy

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