Raindrops are pelting my face and my legs and lungs are burning from the third major hill on the long, gradual climb from Silver City, MI to Lake of the Clouds in the Porcupine Mountains. We're on the last flat stretch before the steep, final climb of the ride, and I can see Sam on his yellow and black road bike up 500 yards or so ahead of me. Determined, I shift into a higher gear and increase my cadence. I know Sam is a better biker, but I can't let him reach the summit THAT far ahead of me. I open my eyes and I'm in a dark spinning class with the music blaring. I've been attending spinning classes pretty often lately. They're a short walk from the hospital and a good break for my knees in between running. Right now we're on the last "flat road" of the day, and the instructor has told us to reduce our resistance and sprint until the end of the class. Invariably when instructed to do so, I'm instantly taken back to the Porkies on one of our favorite climbs near Sam's parents' cottage, and all I can think is, "just catch Sam." The irony of our temporarily shifted roles doesn't elude me. Normally, Sam is my motivator and cheerleader. He's constantly making me bike faster, hike farther, be better. He reminds me that I'm capable of accomplishing my goals, and I'll admit I would have missed out on a big number of summits, vistas and finish lines without him by my side telling me I can do it. Now it's my turn to motivate. To remind him this pain is temporary and in no time, we'll be back in Alaska posing for pictures with pretty rainbows (of sky and river varieties) and contentedly eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches looking out over some valley somewhere with Birkie. After my last post, we spent a six-day stint in the hospital, then were discharged for four days before Sam spiked an epic fever and we landed back up on B6/6. Today is day six of this stay, and day 15 of his second round of treatment. This time around Sam's had to struggle a lot more - fighting off fevers, shaking chills, controlling pain and nausea and needing to work a little harder to stay positive. Though (surprise to no one), time and again, he's done it. The nurses and doctors constantly remind us how well he's doing. After each challenge and bump in the road, he's Sam again. He makes jokes, goes on walks (a little slower and shorter now, but still literally miles farther than most other patients on this floor) and goes back to normal amidst the most abnormal of circumstances. I'm learning to help motivate him. But from experience, I know he's an expert at pushing himself, finding out what's around the next corner and reaching the top of the climb to cash in on the long, enjoyable ride home. As I've reassured myself many times in the past - on a bike, trail or in a hospital - we still have a lot of climbing to do, but holy shit, he's got this.
Bev Mangerson
8/6/2015 03:02:16 am
Thanks as always for keeping us updated. You are truly Sam's rock, and I'm sure we are all thankful for you. Please give Sam my best. Hang in there!
Jenny
8/7/2015 01:31:22 am
Thanks Bev! I will - and I hope to meet you someday!
Sal
8/6/2015 05:57:36 am
thanks for the update... love the photo of Sam. Would love to do the Porkies with you both! We send our strength and love to you both each and every day....
Jenny
8/7/2015 01:33:30 am
We will look forward to taking you up on that Porkies trip ASAP!
MK
8/6/2015 10:57:24 am
Been following this story. You guys are definitely on my mind. Keep climbing. Sending you many pedal strokes and hugs from GA.
Jenny
8/7/2015 01:34:02 am
Thanks, MK! Great to hear from you!
Debra Durchslag
8/7/2015 03:56:54 am
We so look forward to and appreciate your very loving and inspiring updates about Sam and yourself. We are sending you Sam all of our love and prayers and strength as you walk this path.
DAD
8/8/2015 02:34:14 am
Yes you are his rock. Stay strong and thanks for the post.
Courtney Munson
8/26/2015 03:16:55 pm
Jenny, Comments are closed.
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