Today at the last pit stop on our bike course, the speakers were playing show tunes very loudly and this is how it started.
"I think this song is Breakfast at Tiffany's," she said.
"Uh, no it's not," I thought silently. "It's Moon River."
"It's Moon River," he said. "Helps to be 55 to know that one."
"HEY!! I knew it," I said.
"Well, then SPEAK UP!"
We followed each other to a table and chairs for four.
The four of us sat in silence for a long time munching on trail mix and drinking Gatorade.
The younger of the men excused himself to the bathrooms and I asked Mr. Moon River if he was a local.
"Nope. I'm from New Jersey."
"WELL!" I said. "You had a long ride to get here."
We laughed about it being all down hill and the road back home being hell.
"My son works here for Livestrong."
"Oooh, you been to some good parties this weekend? Seen famous people?" I asked.
"Well, no. Not because my son works for Livestrong but I did raise enough money to get to wear this white jersey."
He continued. "We actually raised this money in Philly. But, I wasn't able to ride. All 25 team members rode for me. For Uncle John."
"You must be a survivor."
"Yes, I am. Just had a bone marrow transplant in June."
"IN JUNE??? This is only OCTOBER!"
"Well, I'm only riding 20 miles."
"Well, so am I!"
We laughed a lot.
I continued. "So, you've got all those new cells bubbling around in ya ... you're like a new person ... all reborn, no?"
"Yep. I'm a 24 year old in a 55 year old body."
"You're tellin' me that your SON was your donor?"
"Yes indeed. And we were the FIRST father and son transplant duo at the clinic in Philly."
"Well, you're brave. I think I'da preferred to have been THE SECOND duo. You know ... make sure the first one worked. But, LOOK AT YOU! It did!!"
I turned to the son when he returned. "You work for Livestrong? Doing what?"
"Marketing. Design. Collateral." (Because of my smart friend sarah boom I KNOW what collateral means. And I resisted the urge to tell him how I'd cussed the Livestrong collateral during the days leading to the race cuz I couldn't make heads or tails of the route maps.)
"Where'd you go to college?"
"Brown."
Well, how do you respond to that?
Smart boy. Marrow donor. Geez. What have I done lately?
I wished them well and tossed my uneaten trail mix to the can. I told John I wanted him to STAY WELL, so I would keep my distance for the remainder of the ride to avoid any falls or mishaps in his path.
"Good luck to all those cells!" I called.
They crossed the finish line right after we did.
They were invited on stage to tell their story. They told it just like they told me.
Except in their quiet, modest way, they left out some stuff.
"Uncle John" is a THREE time survivor of cancer.
Son Patrick is a survivor himself. Melanoma.
I wish them well on their journey.
And hope the trip home is safe and all downhill.
Oh, and I saw Patrick Dempsey in bike shorts.
Holy cow.
What a damn day.
If you were wondering.
Glad you asked.
(Deborah Cannon from the Austin American Statesman took those photos, but I really WAS that close.)
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