The Ride for Missing Children

As my knees have protested more to my usual high-mileage running, I started focusing more on the bike this year, and already completed a duathlon.  Last year, some friends participated in the annual Ride for Missing Children, a fundraiser for the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.  Minimum fundraising is $300, which my husband's office, and several of my running friends (who were lured with baked treats as bribes to donate) pulled through for me.

I wasn't able to get in a lot of rides, but I felt I was in decent shape to ride 100 miles.  Working 12 hour days makes it hard to fit in my training - either I'm too tired to feel safe in traffic, or it's already dark.


About a week before the ride, I was having a lot of issues with my bike tires - I was going through 1-2 tubes a week.  I didn't have a ton of miles on my tires, but they were chewed up from riding on rough shoulders.  I finally broke the bank and invested in a pair of Continental GatorSkins, and the suggestion of a few riders whose opinion I trust.  Fast forward briefly - for the ride, I had NO problems, and never even had to re-inflate my tires.


For the Ride, I met up with Michelle, Phyllis and Bob at Total Sports Experience.  I was incredibly nervous about my tires, but other than that, I had no reservations about finishing the ride.  My only loss was my insulated water bottle at about mile 5 (which, despite having my name on it, never found its way back to me).


The Ride is held on a Friday each year, as it's focus is to reach out to school-age kids.  This year's emphasis was on Internet Safety.  During the opening ceremony, we heard from Steve Carter, who for over 30 years was a "Missing Kid" who found himself on one of Center's websites.

Steve Carter.  Photo Courtesy - Gin Singer

Hearing his story, although probably rare, really drove home the point of why we do this ride.  With Brittanee Drexel still missing, one has to hope there *could* be a happy ending.

Photo courtesy - Gin Singer

As part of the ride, we rode by (slowly) several schools - as far as Brockport and Hilton - with all the kids cheering and screaming like they were at a New Kids on the Block concert (wait, Justin Beiber, or Taylor Swift... all the rage now, right?)  We also stopped at about 5 schools to pass out pencils, get our high-fives, and get something to eat (the only advice Bob had for me was to not eat too much - one can gain weight on this ride!)

Photo courtesy - Gin Singer

We did ride by one high school.  The six teenagers out there looked bored to tears.


I had the opportunity to meet a lot of great folks on this ride, but meeting up with Dave, one of my nursing school clinical professors (and one of the best instructors at U of R School of Nursing), took the freakin' cake! 

The route was pretty flat - a few rolling hills but not anything that was too difficult (unless you got stuck behind someone riding a single-speed cruiser, which - of course - I did).  It wasn't until about Mile 80 did I start getting pretty cranky.  I got pushed to the back by some riders riding 3-and-4 across, separating me from Dave.  For about 10 miles I was stuck in the "Asshole Peloton", as I called it, until we got to our last official stop at the Jewish Community Center.  I met up with Dave and his group there, thankfully.


Between the JCC and the end of the ride, we had one last stop at the Wegman's Conference Center (mile 98 or so), so riders who dropped out earlier could remount and complete the ride as a group.  My butt hurt, my back hurt, my right arm and shoulder hurt from the constant shifting and braking.  I was so ready to be done...

But finishing this ride was such a sense of accomplishment.  Which seems to be my life's theme over the past year (marathon, duathlon, century ride).


And let me say this...seeing the massage therapy students from Monroe Community College at the finish was like a dream come true!

In summary, I was tired and ready to get comfortable in my bed, it really is something special to be part of an event this big, to bring awareness to an important issue.  I don't have kids, and don't know if I ever will.  But I simply cannot fathom the pain of not knowing the whereabouts of your child.  So I can only hope that the meager amount of money I was able to raise will help someone.