Just when the need is greatest, draconian budget cuts are in store for California. Governor Schwartzenegger plans to eliminate all general fund support for the state Office of AIDS, jeopardizing the matching funds from the Ryan White Care Fund and the CDC California would otherwise be eligible for. So fundraising efforts such as AIDS/LifeCycle are more important than ever. AIDS/LifeCycle raises funds for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation and the Jeffrey Goodman Clinic of the LA Gay and Lesbian Center.
On Sunday May 31, I'll awaken before dawn, cram a few more things in an already-stuffed bag, slam down some cereal and a bunch of pills...mostly supplements and some HIV meds. My friends Ken and Will will be waiting to load my bag into the trunk of their car. We'll stop to pick up my tentmate for the week and we'll head for the San Francisco Cow Palace, to join a couple of thousand others who have gone through much the same process. At 6:30 in the morning, we'll begin a week of cycling down the coast and through the valleys of California to arrive in LA. Join me over the fold and I'll share with you what I've done to get to the point of departure, and why what I'm doing matters.
Each year I do this ride, and for the past several years I have diaried here about my experiences as a long-term HIV survivor and as a veteran cyclist. I could bombard you all with statistics, all of them valid, but I've chosen this opportunity to tell you a bit about what my preparation for AIDS/LifeCycle consists of.
My first AIDS Ride was California AIDS Ride 6, which took place in 1999. Having discovered that I actually COULD ride a bike from San Francisco all the way to Los Angeles, it just seemed reasonable that I help others do the same. Every year since the end of my first ride, I've volunteered my time as a training ride leader. My job is to participate in getting other Bay Area folks to the point where they not only believe they're capable of riding a bike to LA, but where safety and self-care become second nature. Sometime around the middle of September, I take an evening re-certification class that's required to allow me to serve as a ride leader once more. First time leaders go through a more extended process. We all learn traffic law, cycling skills, some basic bike maintenance, and tips about health and safety. Besides the fundraising and the necessary effort to promote AIDS awareness, the ride provides the additional benefit of promoting safe cycling.
The training season officially kicks off at the end of October. From then on, I participate in at least one training ride each weekend, unless the weather is really vile. And even then sometimes, I find myself on a bike, battling the elements. Training rides begin short and increase gradually in length and intensity, especially after the beginning of the year. My final full weekend of training consists of a three-day, 180-mile extravaganza. I bike to work unless weather or illness prevent me from doing so (in that case, I use public transit; I could not tell you the last time I drove to work but it's been many years).
Meanwhile, I have to raise money. After I've signed up for the following year's ride, I receive a confirmatory email, and I'm provided with a personalized homepage on the AIDS/LifeCycle website. I start sending out emails, handing out pledge forms, pestering friends old and new and generally guilt-tripping everyone within reach for the next ten months. Riders must raise a minimum of $3,000 in order to be able to participate in AIDS/LifeCycle. Those who raise $5,000 are awarded a special commemorative jersey. I now have a bunch of them.
As soon as I'm able, I begin asking for pledges. Every now and then I get one I didn't solicit, but mostly it's a matter of asking, asking, begging, pleading, and guilt-tripping.
Meanwhile, training starts. Unless the weather's bad, I keep riding. Training ride leaders are expected to show up for rides, even if they're to be canceled. The upside of living where I do is that rides aren't canceled all that often. It's not as though we normally have to worry about snow or other extreme weather...though a weekend's worth of rides did get canceled because of snow and ice a couple of years ago. And during my first year of training I actually did find myself riding through snow flurries one morning. The downside of living where I do is that we are prone not to bother riding in conditions that cyclists in other areas would put up with. We are, perhaps, a bit wimpy as far as that goes.
To keep it short, including the ride I did at the end of September that brought an official end to all of last year's activities, and also including the 18-miler I did this morning to mark the end of the training season, I've biked 1,370 miles on 29 training rides, over 98 hours, 20 minutes, averaging 13.9 miles per hour and maxing out (twice) at 40.8 mph.
As for fundraising: To throw some statistics at you, I have raised just over $50,000 in the past ten years. Last year was my best year of fundraising ever; I raised $7,100.
This year has of course been a challenge. Some of my most devoted sponsors have not been able to donate because of financial hardship. Others have had to cut down on their contributions. Even my mom, who reliably gives me a very substantial donation every year, wasn't as able to donate as much as usual because, like many others, her investments tanked last fall. Nevertheless she did what she could. I found myself reaching out to folks I had never asked to sponsor me previously and in many cases I have been blown away by the generosity of people. Some I have known over the years, others (including several Kossacks) have been hugely supportive of me, even though I've never actually met them. I don't really know anyone who's wealthy. I have not benefited from corporate matching funds; I work for the federal government so I'm not going to receive anything from my employer. In fact, I'm technically not supposed to fundraise at work, though I'm permitted to approach my coworkers individually. I recently discovered that one of them was a true pioneer, having participated in the very first AIDS ride in 1994. People do come through; they do what they can.
You may be wondering why, having met the minimum and having also reached some further milestones, I don't simply stop. There are numerous reasons but most important one is a simple matter of economics. Events like this are not inexpensive to produce. It costs approximately $750 per participant to produce AIDS/LifeCycle. During the AIDS Ride era, there were frequent complaints that the event was not making good use of funds raised, and that an excessive amount of money was going to pay the producer of the event and cover overhead. Since AIDS/LifeCycle is produced by the two beneficiaries, they are very careful as to how money is spent. No expense is spared to make the ride safe and enjoyable for participants, but no dollar is spent if a cost can be covered by in-kind donations. And no dollar is spent that isn't important in making sure that everything is legal and that we all arrive in LA safely.
To date I've raised $5,700. My official goal this year is $7,000 but I recognize that might not get there. Still, I'm going to keep asking folks, like you, dear Kossacks, to go to http://www.tofighthiv.org/.... Do some reading. You'll be able to see details of all my training rides and related activities. There are links to photo albums on Flickr. Have fun, and give some money if you can.
Thanks for reading this.