It would appear that pregnant neighborhood stray cats are not the only ones who can read "soft touch" across my forehead. Organizers of fundraising activities can do it to.
I've signed up for a fund-raising bike ride, the Tour of Hope (sponsored by Bristol-Myer Squibb), with all proceeds going to the Lance Armstrong Foundation and Tour partners. The Tour is a cross-country bike ride, San Diego to Washington, D.C. Uh, no; I'm not. But there's a "ride along with the 24 riders who are going cross-country" event on the last day, ending up at a rally at the Washington Monument. That's the one I'm taking part in.
It should be entertaining: I haven't been on my bike in six or seven years, so I've got some training to do. (First, of course, I have to find my bike. I'm pretty sure it's in the room with the washing machine.) And at the end of it, I'll be able to say that I've ridden with Lance Armstrong. Way behind him, to be sure, but still somewhere in a peleton with him.
But you've got something to do, too: donate. Thanks.
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