Open Letter to Cubby Tees re: "Chicago Stronger" Shirts

To Whom it May Concern:

I saw last night the reports of a Chicago Stronger shirt.  Initially, my reaction was, "Not cool, bro."  To me, it felt like the co-opting of a rallying cry meant to unify a city after an awful tragedy, and using it as an opportunity to take a poke at MORE than the Bruins, but at Boston itself.  After all, "Boston Strong" is not about the Bruins, specifically.

I slept on it, and today I read through the response on your website after halting sales of the shirt.  

On the one hand, we agree on this: "Boston Strong" has been co-opted by others.  It has been used by companies in- and outside the Boston area for profit, rather than to benefit victims.  It has been applied, to a lesser extent, by a few Boston sports fans as a "Us vs. Them" rallying cry.  There was even a for-profit t-shirt stand selling "Boston Strong" shirts outside the TD Garden (where the Bruins & Celtics play) before The One Fund Benefit Concert, and fans bought them thinking they would benefit the victims.  It is not right.

While I have not met ALL your requirements prior to writing this email (I did not donate blood Marathon Monday because I had actually run the Marathon and was trapped near the finish line next to the medical tent when bombs went off and everything went on lock-down), I feel that the following is worth your consideration.  

1.  To my knowledge, the Chicago Stronger shirts would not benefit The One Fund.  Please correct me if I am wrong, but I couldn't find anything that indicated proceeds would be donated anywhere on your site, even when the shirt was still for sale.  This makes you at least as bad as those you are "parodying."  Your "holier than thou" response indicates that you feel no need to donate to the One Fund due to it being well-funded already (please see below for thoughts on that).  However, even if The One Fund had an Austin Powers-style *ONE BILLION DOLLARS*, you are using the existence of "Boston Strong" - intended to benefit the One Fund and victims of the Boston Marathon - to benefit yourself.  At minimum, you should be donating the profits somewhere; and without a Chicago-specific tragedy on your hands (despite asinine empty threats of other reactionary Bostonians, I wish you nor your city any harm), the right place to send it is The One Fund.

2.  The One Fund, if you have been paying attention, is NOT "very well endowed."  Please research the cost of prosthetics, and how often they need to be replaced, and multiply that out over a lifetime, and then let me know what number you come up with.  What The One Fund currently has is enough for one payout to each victim.  There are over 200 victims.  Evenly split (which it won't be, by necessity), that is around $200,000 per victim.  That may cover prosthetic limb costs ($10-20K each, needs replacing every 10 years).  What about converting a home to be accessible?  What about lost wages, now and in the future?  Future health complications that accompany such injuries?  Costs associated with quality-of-life concerns?  The only people who will "profit" off the Boston Marathon bombings are companies like yours - certainly not any of the victims.  Further, I feel pretty safe guessing that any one of them would take back their skin, or their legs, or their lives, if it meant not having a single dime.  But, since that is not an option, they deserve as much support as can be mustered - and anyone associating themselves with the Boston Marathon bombings (by using "Boston Strong" or a variation) should be committed to using any money generated to help.  Like it or not, the phrase has entered the common vernacular and is irrevocably linked to what happened that day.

3.  The very clearly sarcastic and snarky tone of your response on your website is disappointing.  Guess what - the internet is full of idiots.  The whole world is full of idiots, in fact, but the internet brings them right to your doorstep to blather on monosyllabic-ally about whatever enters their so-called brains.  And you fell for it.  Rather than taking the high ground, you further insulted Boston by assuming that all the invective you've been receiving is representative of ALL Bostonians.  You say, "We believe that the majority of noble Bostonians have the proper perspective and priorities", but follow that with two qualifiers: that "noble" Bostonians are the ones who AGREE with your "position" (i.e., selling those shirts), and that the remaining "sizeable contingent" are vulgar, violent, hypocritical, and racist.  

Based on your requirements for emailing, here are some questions for you regarding your response: Have you spoken to ALL Bostonians?  Have you personally contacted victim's families to ask them how they feel about the Chicago Stronger shirts?  Or even about the Boston Strong shirts?  Have you talked to ANYONE from Boston?  Have you called a company making Boston Strong shirts and asked them how their business model went and what the best way was to do this?  Do you know where the term "Boston Strong" originated, and how much it has helped victims and their families?

4.  Chicago has it's share of championship winning teams, and it's own "lovable losers," the Cubs.  As a once long-suffering (Red) Sox fan, I feel for every Cubs fan out there.  Based on the name of your company, Cubby Tees, and the merchandise you supply (all Chicago sports teams, including college) there appears to be no separation for you between "Chicago" and "Chicago sports teams."  That's pretty normal stuff - after all, don't our sports teams represent our cities?  Why else are they called the CHICAGO Blackhawks or the BOSTON Bruins?  They are inextricably connected (just ask a Brooklyn Dodgers fan).  The Boston Marathon, while an international event, is uniquely Boston.  Have you experienced Marathon Monday?  Do you know there is a home Sox game every year at 11am on Patriot's Day (Marathon Monday)?  Do you know that, for the past few years, there has also been a home Bruins game that night (which was cancelled this year)?  Chicago and Boston are quite similar in that way - sports, politics, and food are woven into the city's identity.  Is "Boston Strong" meant to be a rallying cry for the Sox, or the Bruins, or any other Boston sports team?  No - it is a rallying cry for the city itself, for the citizens here who experienced something terrible. Guess what - I was also at the first Bruins game after the bombing, the one where the crowd sang the National Anthem together and there wasn't a dry eye in the place (watch that and try not to get goosebumps - I know how the Hawks fans like their National Anthem).  During the game, instead of the usual "Let's go Bruins" chant, it was "We love Boston" and "Let's go Boston."  All night.  The Bruins WERE Boston, they represented all that was right and normal and great about our city.  They provided fans with a sense of normalcy and joy (even though they lost a close game) at a time when they needed it most.  I would think the Blackhawks, or any other sports team, would want to be able to do the same for the place they call home - and it IS home for many of this Bruins team, which has a lot of players who live full-time, year-round in Boston.  So maybe "Boston Strong" isn't and should not be synonymous with "Bruins Strong," but the sentiment of cheering for something that represents something you care about - home - is one I'm sure you can understand.  Someone attacked our home - not your home - and that is an effect only Bostonians can understand.  Bottom line: Regardless how you feel about "Boston Strong" used as a sports chant, using it as a jumping off point for your OWN sports chant - or, more accurately, as a way to sell merchandise - is at best short-sighted, and at worst classless and downright cynical.  

"Boston Strong" is the epitome of hope.  Try not to dump on that any more than you already have.  Fortunately, I know that Chicago is full of its own strong citizens who - unlike your company - do not need to use a gimmick based on a perceived slight that grew out of a populace's response to horrific circumstances in order to show their support for the Hawks.  Regardless of who takes home the Cup, the people of Boston and those from elsewhere who were there for the Marathon will continue to rebuild their lives, knowing that they have the support of millions behind them.  I believe they would be just fine if Cubby Tees was not among them, but if you ever have an urge to truly experience this city, I assure you we will welcome you with open arms.

Go Boston,

Erin Learoyd

Parades, Bears, and Everything but the Kitchen Sink

...oh wait, we had that, too.

Welcome to Chelmsford!

On Saturday, I (somewhat) successfully completed my first ride with friends.  This doesn't sound like that big of a deal - I mean, what isn't better with your friends??  And, in truth, it was better with them - but that didn't mean there wasn't a whole lot of anxiety leading up to the ride.  Of the 3 people I went with, two have been cycling for months, and the other is actively running marathonS.  (Capital "S" on purpose.  MarathonS!).

Needless to say, the first thing I did was get us lost.  Pro-Tip #1: If you think your exercise app has GPS that gives you directions, try it out before you embark on a 26+ mile trip in an area no one is familiar with.

37 miles later, we rolled back into the parking lot where we started, grimy and gritty from being on main roads, a little unsteady on our feet (well, I was).  One friend hopped in her car and took off like we'd just spent the afternoon lunching and she was off for some shopping and spa treatments.  As I'm leaning on my car, bargaining with whatever deity you believe in to pick up my bike and deposit on top of my car on my behalf, my friends are laughing and walking around like someone didn't just triple gravity.

Oh well - there's something to be said for going above and beyond your goal (25-30 miles), even if it was accidental.  We got lost many times, not just as we were leaving the parking lot, but that led to a few adventures.  For instance, we biked through an oncoming parade.  We also pulled over on a back road to check our map, and a woman walking with a baby told us, in all seriousness, not to go down a road because there were bears.  Then, she walked down that very road.  Maybe she's not afraid of the bears, and actually lives peacefully among them - who knows?  Pro-Tip #2: Don't get eaten by bears.  We moved on.

Not pictured: the gaggle of baton-twirlers in pink dodging in
and out of our way , and the bear who later ate them

It might have taken us 3.5 hours, but we somehow managed to get 37 miles out of a 26 mile mapped course, climbed some miniature mountains, seen the pride of Westford up close and personal, enjoyed the sweet wafting aromas of a carnival, and met a crazy person.  Success!

Keeps rainin' all of the time

Mother Nature is not cooperating

Dear Weather,

I realize you're doing us a favor by raining through the month of May, because we desperately need it around here.  You were a little late to the game with the whole, "April showers bring May flowers" bit, and it's gotta be made up somewhere - I get it.  I just have one tiny request: please, rain all you want on Mondays, Wednesdays, and some Fridays... but Tues/Thu/Sat/Sun are off-limits for the next 5.5 weeks.  Got it?

Love,
Erin's Training Regimen

Hangovers, Humble Pie, and Hitting the Dirt

I've been trying to get a blog up for over a week, so we're going to cover a lot of ground here.  With that in mind, let's jump right in!

Hangovers


I'm 30.  That's not particularly old, but any of you who have hit that milestone know that hangovers are just different now.  Last Thursday, I had the very fortunate opportunity to go to Game 6 of Celtics/Hawks.  I had maybe 2-3 beers during the course of the game, and went out for one drink afterward.  The game being at 8pm, we were definitely out past my bedtime, but home before midnight.  And the next day was ro-o-o-o-o-ugh.  Not bent over, falling asleep on my desk rough, but the kind of rough where you feel like you just never get going, are off your game, not quite functioning at full-strength.  A friend of mine characterized it well - the adult hangover.  It's less about alcohol, and more about the quality of sleep you got the night before.

No excuses, I had to get a bike in.  I chugged some water, psyched myself up, and tackled 15 miles.

Two days later, on four hours of sleep and a red-bull-and-vodka induced hangover (fo' reals this time), I slogged out 13 miles.  My goal was 20... but I'm just happy I made it onto the bike.

So much more peaceful looking than it was

Maybe I shouldn't be drinking at all when I'm trying to build up to 150 miles in an 8-week period.  You know how I feel about that?  Meh.  I went to a Celtics playoff game, and my best friend turned 30 - I'm gonna have my fun.  The best part about it all, though, is how I've felt.  Even 3 months ago, I NEVER would have been able to get on the bike, either day.  It's an unbelievable, inconceivable difference!  Amazing what happens when you're able to eat regularly and keep that food down!

Even the Wicked Witch made it out

Let's not lie, though, getting out there was and is still a mental challenge.  Which leads me to...

Humble Pie


Sometime on Friday afternoon, I stumbled on this article:

http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2012/05/08/paralyzed-woman-finishes-marathon-16-days-after-start/

I've learned that the lesson in stories like this is not to remember that, no matter how bad I have it, there is someone else struggling with a greater challenge.  That is a glass-half-empty thought, and not particularly motivating.  Instead, I choose to look at it this way: this person has her own set of challenges, and she rises not only to overcome them, but to excel and inspire others.  Whatever your own challenge is, the only thing you have to do is rise to meet it.  My challenge is to keep getting on the bike each training day and go the distance, despite the changes my body has gone through, despite the depression, despite my lack-of-energy, despite the literal and figurative hills to climb.  The story above reminded me to get on the saddle and continue to push myself to surmount the speedbumps I encounter.

Speaking of bumps...

Hitting the Dirt


I pushed myself to log 19+ miles yesterday, the longest I've gone so far.  On top of that, I'm trying to push my breaks farther apart, building up endurance and mimicking the distance between the rest stops along the MS Ride.

On yesterday's ride, I told myself no stopping until I hit 12 miles.  12.1 miles later, I gratefully pulled into a parking lot to stretch a bit and give my legs a break.  I was biking along a fairly busy road, and it was peak time for traffic, so to say I was a bit hyper-aware of my surroundings is probably an understatement.  I waited until a break in traffic to start up again, got up to speed - and then heard a noise.  My first response is always to look at my tires, fearing a flat.  I glanced down, didn't see a  problem, and looked back up just in time to see an enormous crack in the road.  I was toast.  With nowhere to go, I rammed into the chasm (well, that's what it felt like) and was launched off my bike.

My girlfriend later asked me if I fall often, and I realized that I had never actually fallen while riding.  At stop lights, sure - everyone does that once in awhile.  Always embarrassing, but more bruising to the ego than anything else.

You know how, when something bad is happening, time seems to slow down and every detail becomes very clear?  That did not happen with this.  I slammed into the ground unceremoniously, the impact jarring me loose from my bike, and I skidded to a stop - it felt like it happened in a blink of an eye.  I rolled up and took stock... and realized how lucky I was.  I'd fallen near an intersection, and there was a freshly mulched garden of plants in a median.  Let's just say I made my mark there.

The mark of a seasoned athlete

A little bruised and scratched up, but really no worse for the wear.  My bike, however... well, that's where things got interesting.  At first glance, I lucked out there, too - no popped tires, no bent frame, not even terrible scratches considering it rammed over a crack and into a curb.  After I brushed dirt out of my hair, eyes, nose, shirt, shorts, and shoes, I wearily climbed back on the bike and started pedaling (I should mention here that not a single person stopped to make sure I was okay).  All of a sudden, my gears started jumping like a Kriss Kross song was on.  No matter what the incline/decline, so matter how I pedaled, no matter what I did with my shifters, it was like my gears were possessed.  I finally found that the only ones that would consistently stay were the easiest one, and the hardest one.  So I spent the next 7 miles huffing and puffing my way along flat ground, and going 7mph up hills, just spinning.

Turns out I busted a fairly important part on my bike, but fortunately my buddy at work was able to help me out.  Tomorrow, I do two things I haven't done since May of last year - ride 30 miles, and ride with a friend.  No hangovers this time, but I humbly will attack this challenge and hopefully avoid meeting the pavement with anything other than my tires.

What's your challenge today?

Oil it up, mount it, and ride it hard!

I Bike Hills, Hilarity Ensues

Oh heyyyy!  It's been an eventful few days!

In general, things are going well.  I've put a plan in place that sets ambitious but attainable goals, and has some flexibility so things like two rainy days in a row don't completely derail me.  I wanted to ride three times last week, and I did - Wed, Sat, Sun.  Not quite what I expected, but I got them in and felt good while doing it.

Well, except when a crazy lady in a minivan decided her day was much more important than mine and, seeing me, pulled out of a plaza to beat the other cars, causing me to slam on my brakes to avoid running into her lovely automatic-sliding side doors.  No problem, I'm sure the milk was about to spoil or something, and when that happens you can't even feed it to the cat.

Or, when I got harassed by a woman who lives in the complex I started and ended from, because she thought I was using their parking lot without "proper authority."  It's okay, she was probably lonely and just wanted someone to talk to.

Or, when I got chased by chickens (you read that right).  Or when I had to dodge a brave/dumb chipmunk (Chip?).  Or when I also had to dodge a enormous orange cat rolling around in the dirt on the street (Garfield?).  Or when a dog chased me.  Nature!  Honestly, though, wouldn't it just be boring if it was all pedaling and no surprises?

Anyway, today rolled around, and I saw it was going to pour for the next two days.  I thought, it would be my third day in a row when I hadn't been doing anything except some surfing (couch and channels) in months, but fuck it, let's go.  Mistake #1.  I was trying to get 15 miles in.  Mistake #2.  I was going to leave from my house, so I tried to map a route that gave me the mileage without being overly challenging, since my legs were pretty heavy to begin with.  I chose and out-and-back route that heads away from Boston and has fewer lights and traffic to deal with.  Mistake #3... annnnnd knock-out punch.

See, I failed to remember that a key feature of that route is a roughly 1.8 mile uphill climb with few, if any, plateaus - just changes in the pitch of the climb.  I had to stop three different times to summit it.  At one point, I was sure someone had snuck behind me and actually tethered me to the ground, because as hard as I pushed, I wasn't going anywhere.  I considered asking for oxygen at the fire department I turned around in, but the guys sitting outside didn't look too friendly and I was more afraid they'd turn the hose on me.  So, I turned back toward civilization, enjoying what was now a 1.5 mile downhill ride.  In fact, I felt so good at the bottom of it that I decided not to turn home, but to keep going.  What number are we on now?  Ah, yes... Mistake #4.

In case you can't read it, that red bar goes from 2mi to 3.8mi and from 50ft to 300ft. (Click for larger image)

A few humiliating minutes later, I am off the bike and walking it up a long, but not particularly steep hill.  I knew it was time to officially quit when a woman in her 60's and a bike on her trunk pulled off to make sure I was okay, and then proceeded to tell me how she completed a personal best 77 miles that day as a part of her training for a 10 week cross-country ride (I had gone less than 8 miles at that point).  "I had my gallbladder removed," I said meekly.  "Oh... I had mine out last year, too," she replied.  Shit.

Well, adventure is all part of it, I suppose.  Today might not have been my best day, but I got out there.  Now, I'm going to try to figure out who encased my legs in cement when I wasn't looking and then enjoy a restful night dreaming of downhills and the wind at my back.

I Forgot How Hard This Is

I have to admit, I'm pretty motivated.  With the time constraints on my schedule, it'd be hard to look from the outside at the activities I have done recently and surmise, "Wow, what a go-getter" (or if you did, it would be sarcastic, which would be more likely among the people I know).  In addition to my first run back last Friday, I did the same route on Monday, with a worse time on the run (by 6 seconds), but a better time on the walk (by 34 seconds) because I jogged up my street at the end.  Baby steps.  Bottom line is, I see a serious challenge, but one that I'm excited to take head-on.

Yesterday was my first bike ride.  Cloudy, a little drizzle, 50 degrees - I say in complete seriousness that this is my favorite kind of weather for exercising.  I managed to eke out 8.03 miles in 40:01 min.  I'm not setting any land speed records or anything, but mostly I am just happy I can walk today.  Update: I did not take the stairs at work this morning (24 steps for 5 flights) because my legs are still pretty jelly.

Okay, so what did I get out of it?

1)  Hills are still terrible, terrible things.  If hills were people, they'd be that guy on the cross-country plane trip who talks non-stop about his start-up cat massage business, when all you want to do is coast with some good music in your headphones and maybe have a nap.  You know you're going to get through it, but the urge to kill yourself is definitely there at some point.

2)  Same goes for wind.

I guess that's pretty much it (it was a short ride).  Also, some good news: my intestines did not try to escape through my incisions, and my lack-of-gallbladder doesn't seem to be aching too bad today.  I guess gasping for air going 7mph (because you're maxed out) up a hill that lasts probably 1/8 of a mile doesn't count as "overdoing it."  Which is good, because I don't think I could get a medical exception to have a motorcycle pull me up all the hills during the MS Ride (although how cool would that be??).

On tap: 2 rides this weekend (15 miles and 10 miles).  Tips/encouragement/Red Bull (for before)/sedatives (for after) are always appreciated!

First Steps

On Friday, I ran 1.1 miles.  It took me 08:53.  Then I walked half a mile home.  When I was finished, I was shaking so bad I could hardly stretch.

And so, it begins.  I have closed the book on a lasting struggle with my health that started in the summer of 2009 and concluded with the removal of my gallbladder in March.  Along the way, I fought daily nausea and vomiting, a weakened immune system, the inability to ingest enough calories, sapped energy levels, a lack of focus, and ultimately, depression.  And yet during that time, I attempted two 150 mile rides to benefit multiple sclerosis research and treatment, ran a dozen 5K races and one 10K, did the Warrior Dash, and joined a flag football league.  I finally succumbed to the symptoms when they continued, unabated, to worsen, despite my best efforts on my own and with the medical community to fix them.

March 2012

September 2009

I have essentially been inactive for the past 5 months.  My endurance and strength have withered away.

As I write this, it's laughable how sore my butt and hamstrings are from the 1.1 miles I ran three days ago.  My body certainly hasn't forgotten how to run, but it also won't let *me* forget that we have made couch-sitting an Olympic sport over the past half-a-year.

Well, I'm back.  Take that, legs!  Couch, it's been real, but it's time for me to move on.

Speaking of which, I'm going to need these legs to help me a LOT over the next 8ish weeks.  Well before my surgery, before things got unbearable, I committed to the Cape Cod Getaway, which is a 150 mile bike ride that benefits the National MS Society (support me!).  As I mentioned above, I've attempted a similar ride twice while in Florida, but now I'm tasked with cruising down the Cape for two days, all the way to Provincetown.  Not only am I starting from zero in terms of fitness, but this ride will be much different from the ones before it.

Do you know what Massachusetts has that Florida doesn't (besides a temperate climate, great sports teams, and most of my family and friends)?  HILLS.

It should be interesting!  I've joined a team, Team Summit, which will beneficial in supporting me physically and mentally over the coming weeks.  You, dear reader, are more than welcome to join me on this journey, as well.  I'll be posting periodically, probably bitching about how sore I am, but here and there I'll try to get something funny in there and maybe a few "life lessons" ("Don't bike with your mouth open" and "Always assume cars are trying to hit you" are good ones to start with).

As always, feedback is appreciated.  Your dollars are also appreciated since I need $500 of them to even get to the starting line.  But, you know, no big deal :-)

Momentum trumps inertia... don't stop moving!