Why Ride: Scott, Part 1

This past weekend, the GLBT Center sponsored a preparatory workshop and rides for participants of Braking the Cycle. True to form, I came down with a cold and couldn't ride. So, it's a week off for me while I let my body recover from germs infinitely smaller than myself.

Given the cause, it seems petty to complain about a simple cold. I'm healthy, in good shape, and expect to live a long life. The simple virus that I'll get over in a week's time could kill someone who is immuno-supressed.

I came out as a gay man in 1990. Being somewhat of a do-gooder, I became involved in an AIDS service organization, the Pittsburgh AIDS Task Force (www.patf.org), in their buddy program. This program, copied from AIDS service organization like Gay Men's Health Crisis, teamed a trained volunteer to provide emotional support to a person dying from HIV. That's how I met Rick and his mother.

In 1990, Pittsburgh was a low-incidence city for HIV. Pittsburgh is also very segregated, both in general and in the LGBT population in particular. A decade later, a survey of African-American Pittsburghers found that they would not go to an LGBT social service agency located in a black neighborhood for fear of being recognized and identified as gay.

To escape a community that would not accept him, like so many other black men, Rick moved to Washington DC and came out. That is where he became HIV+.

He returned to Pittsburgh when he could no longer care for himself. He had enjoyed his job as a porter on AmTrak's DC to Chicago line, and had always hoped to return. CMV Retinitis, KS and other diseases had other ideas. In his late 20s, Rick was destined to spend the last years of his life in a cinder block apartment living with his mother.

I remember several things about Rick. His optimism. His hope. His wanting to live. I also remember the love of his mother, unwilling to let her son die. I was called upon several times to drive Rick to the emergency room, to hold his hand because the surgical procedure to place the IV Central Line in his neck scared him, and to clean up the vomit when we tried to see a movie. Through out the hardships, his mother stood by him, fighting for him.

I know Rick held on for his Mom. When his body had given up, he fought to stay alive to spare her the trauma of his death. Finally, in the hospital room, I sat with his mother and we talked. Finally, she cried, accepting the inevitability of Rick's death. As she said the words, Rick's breathing began to ease. Even though he was unconscious, he seemed to understand that his mother was willing to let him go. He died several hours later.

At Rick's funeral, Rick's mother introduced me as her friend.

While I'm doing the Braking The Cycle Ride, I will be thinking of both Rick and his Mother, and how this disease effects families and friends.

Getting started

This is going to be a slow weekend. A couple members of the team are out buying new bikes today, so we'll have a first practice ride next weekend. I cleaned my bike and may take it out after I hit the gym a bit later today. I've also been updating the website, adding more content, and generally geeking out.

I got my first donation yesterday. Thanks Andrew. Hopefully more will be coming soon.

What is this blog?

BrakingTheCycle (www.brakingthecycle.org) is a 275 mile ride from Gettysburg to Manhattan from September 28 to September 30, 2007 to raise money for HIV/AIDS services provided by the Gay , Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Community Center (www.gaycenter.org). A team of people who work at Google will be participating in this ride. This is our blog describing our training and why we are participating.

This is not an official google blog, and the opinions expressed here are those of the riders.