What could be more empowering, yet more terrifying, than standing in front of a television camera and announcing to anyone who might be viewing "I am HIV-positive?" I've done that and I'm glad I did. Had I not decided to raise a bunch of money and then ride a bicycle from San Francisco to Los Angeles, it might never have happened.
At this time of year, the hills and valleys from Sonoma County all the way down to LA and San Diego are alive every weekend with cyclists preparing for AIDS/LifeCycle. Among those folks, clad in loud colors and riding bicycles of every description, is your fellow Kossack...ME!
AIDS/LifeCycle participants raise money for either the San Francisco AIDS Foundation or the Jeffrey Goodman Clinic of the LA Gay and Lesbian Center. There are two kinds of participants: riders such as myself who must raise a minimum of $3,000 in order to ride their bikes from San Francisco to LA, and "roadies," those who volunteer to provide services to the riders. Roadies are encouraged to fundraise but have no minimum (for safety reasons, it's more important that the roadies be there in order to ensure that all the support functions are staffed up adequately).
You can help me raise money for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation by going here.
Keep on reading, there's lots more.
First some facts:
In 2011, the estimated number of new HIV infections will be
- 800 to 1,000 in San Francisco,
- 1,700 in Los Angeles,
- 7,000 in California,
- 56,300 in the United States, and
- approximately 2.5 million worldwide.
Since the inception of the epidemic, approximately 60 million people have been infected with HIV and over 29 million have died. Every day, throughout the world there are 7,000 new HIV infections and each year 2 million more men, women and children die from AIDS. If anyone tells you the epidemic is over, keep those figures in mind.
And now some abbreviations:
SFAF=The San Francisco AIDS Foundation (also known as "The Foundation")
LAGLC=The Los Angeles Gay and Lesbian Center (also known as "The Center")
ALC=AIDS/LifeCycle
CAR=California AIDS Ride
ALC is the successor to CAR, which began in 1994 as the first multi-day cycling charity event to support AIDS services. The first ride, which was organized by a for-profit production company, supported only The Center. The Foundation joined in for the second year; both organizations have been beneficiaries ever since. After the CAR 8 in 2001, the Center and the Foundation decided to separate from the company that had been producing CAR and run their own event. Although the earlier AIDS Rides had been relatively successful, after subtracting production costs, the 2001 event returned only 50% of net proceeds to the beneficiaries. The beneficiaries and a large group of participants found this to be unacceptable. There was one more California AIDS Ride in 2002, but the energy and the legacy of the original event and its participants transferred to ALC. The decision to create a new event was a wise one. Ride attendance this year will be at an all-time high but the past two years saw a decline from the previous peak in 2007. One day of 2009's ride had to be cancelled due to dangerous weather conditions (heavy rains, almost unheard of in California in the month of June). All participants had to be transported from one campsite to the next, and all bikes had to be trucked. Despite that, each of the past three years has returned a net of 65% or more of the gross proceeds to the beneficiaries for services and programs. Also despite the setbacks, each of the past four rides has raised over $10 million; 2007's event raised over $12 million, making it the largest single AIDS fundraising event in history. On average fundraising per participant seems to keep going up. The people who take part in AIDS/LifeCycle are a very dedicated bunch. Personally, over the past 11 years (up to April 13 of this year), I've raised over $64,000.
Unlike many of the early AIDS Rides, ALC has retained the same route, same number of days and same extent of participation that its predecessor did at its height. We start in San Francisco and spend a week riding to Los Angeles. We camp overnight in Santa Cruz, King City, Paso Robles, Santa Maria, Lompoc and Ventura. During the day our gear is trucked from one campsite to the next.
Riders come in all ages, shapes, colors and sizes, sexual orientations and genders. Some folks spend the week riding in drag. On the fifth day of the ride MANY people ride in drag (much of it red, to represent the red AIDS ribbon). There is a team of transgender riders. Some are competitive cyclists, riding $10,000 bikes; others show up on second-hand mountain bikes and can barely ride across town when they begin their training. Typically we have one or two riders who have turned 18 just before the ride starts (minors aren't permitted); our oldest regular participant is his early 80's and rides a recumbent bike. Some people ride every mile while others ride every mile they can.
What does it take to get ready for the ride? Everyone's different. During my first year, I undoubtedly over-trained; I believe I must have biked close to 3,000 miles from my first training ride until I reached LA. I mellowed out a bit after that but each year of training consists of between 1500 and 2000 miles of preparatory riding. If you must know, during the 2008-2009 training season I rode 1,393 training miles, last year I rode 1,582 training miles, and this year I've ridden 1,169 miles so far. That's in addition to the 550 to 570 miles from San Francisco to LA, and the three miles or so of commuting I do each day by bike during the work week (unless the weather's really awful).
You can help me improve the lives of those living with HIV and AIDS by going here.
Because our route takes us back and forth between the coast and the coastal valleys we have some serious hills. Several of those hills have names (either terms of endearment or something else, depending on one's perspective). The climb I find most challenging is called "Quadbuster." There is a run-up to the actual climb, which is about 1.5 miles long and reaches a slope of about 15% at times. Some of the strongest riders will climb the toughest hills several times just to support the ones who are struggling. I would like to be one of those cheerleading folks but I don't really have the strength to make it up that hill more than once.
Because our ride is in California, we're blessed with more than our fair share of spectacular scenery to inspire us. What's more important though is that our route takes us through many small farming communities--towns with no gay acknowledged gay community and where HIV remains a deep dark secret. Simply by virtue of passing through every year we raise awareness (we sometimes raise eyebrows as well of course, but that's just part of the spirit of the event). The route changes a bit from one year to the next; sometimes there are even fairly substantial changes. One of the constants is that we invariably pass by any number of schools; sometimes the school administrations even make their facilities available to us as rest stops and we're able to interact with local students.
For many years, our route took us to a rather remote small town between Santa Maria and Lompoc where a rest stop was set up in the local elementary school yard. Simply getting there required a turn off the main road. It was customary for the students to come out and greet us. One year a number of the kids came up to us with pads and pencils to interview us about our ride. The town of Bradley, north of Paso Robles, is where we stop for lunch on Day Three of the ride. Bradley is a town of perhaps 300 people. The residents hold a barbeque for us; the money we spend buying hot dogs, burgers, sodas, home-baked cookies and souvenirs helps fund school programs. We also give them publicity...
About ten percent of ALC participants are living with HIV. I'm one of those people. I am a Positive Pedaler.
I tested positive for HIV in 1985; later on I learned that I had been positive since not later than May of 1981 and in doing some reminiscing, I concluded that I most likely became infected during the first week of December 1980. I diaried about that discovery process and the events surrounding my likely sero-conversion here.
From the time I tested positive I never really was in denial about it. I immediately informed my friends and my therapist, as well as then-partner. We split up several months later, not before he also tested positive (that wasn't the reason our relationship ended. He was SHOCKED to find out he was HIV-positive. That might clue you in to some of the issues in our relationship.).
One thing I'm not particularly proud of is the fact that I did not come out of the closet to my parents until after I tested positive--I was already 34 years old! It took several more years before I was ready to discuss my HIV-status with them.
I certainly didn't discuss my status with my co-workers. In many respects I represent the end of an era; I was not fully out of the closet at work (even in San Francisco!) until the early 1990's when my partner Mario (who I met shortly after moving west) became ill and then passed away.
It's long been known that self-advocacy can play an important part in staying healthy. Fellow Kossack sricki highlighted this in a recent, very comprehensive (and sadly under-noticed) diary on the subject of HIV and mental health, which you can find here.
The experience I used to open this diary took place during my second AIDS Ride, CAR 7, in June 2000. Although my friends and family knew I was HIV-positive by then, it wasn't something I discussed casually. Despite my apparent openness, there was a sense in which it remained a deep dark secret. If my co-workers were aware of my status, it was because they'd guessed or, in some few and very rare cases, because I'd told them one-on-one. Several of my gay colleagues knew of my status back then; I relied on them for donations. My other co-workers knew I was gay but I presumed that THEY presumed I was riding because I'd lost my partner or...well because I was gay and had lost lots of friends (certainly my office faced its share of AIDS-related deaths from the mid-1980's onward). On the other hand, I work for the federal government and have colleagues all over the country. Not all of them are folks I'd even met. There were others as well; people conducted business with my office. One of those people, a consultant who I met with on a somewhat regular basis, was on the ride that year, along with his daughter. We encountered each other the day before my stint before the camera. I was wearing a cycling jersey, and carrying a flag on my bike that immediately identified me as a member of the Positive Pedalers. I cringed inwardly when we happened upon each other just before the halfway point of the ride. Somehow he seemed unfazed. It got me thinking. I was taking part in an event the purpose of which was to support services for HIV-positive individuals. Not being judgemental about that was one of the many points. So what was the point in remaining uncomfortable to come out and say it? That whole history of reticence needed to come to an end; I was ready to take the plunge.
I spent three years serving as Positive Pedalers Board treasurer and continue to manage the organization's membership roster. The roster is now open to supporters as well as to those living with HIV; you can join through the Positive Pedalers site.
After my first ride, I became a training ride leader. As a training ride leader, I'm part of a group of about 150 men and women (scattered throughout the country, though most are in California) whose are responsible for preparing others to participate in AIDS/LifeCycle. We teach and model safe cycling skills, make sure folks understand the rules of the road (and obey them), and help people learn some basic bike maintenance skills, the most important of which, of course is learning how to fix a flat tire. Above and beyond that we help encourage first-timers who may not have ridden bicycle any great distance before, may not have been on a bike since they were children, aren't sure if they can ride across town, let alone ride over 500 miles in a week and just generally give encouragement and support in any way we can. Being a Positive Pedaler means that, for some, I'm the first person with HIV or at least who is willing to admit it in public. Sometimes, I even wear it...
There is extraordinary power in being one of the faces of those who live with HIV.
I'm not the only Kossack who bikes to raise money for AIDS; anotherdemocrat is a multi-year participant in the Hill Country Ride for AIDS, which takes place on April 30th. You can support her by going here. Then be sure to come back to support ME (maybe not right away, but soon) by going here.
Just to show you it's not all seriousness, sweat, statistics and soreness, I'll close with this video.
Lucky fellow that I am, many of the folks frolicking above are my friends. I could not hope to know a better group of people.
One last time: if you're able to support me in this movable feast of activism, please go here.