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After life forced a year away, renewed hope, spirit persist on annual ride

We don’t do a good job of telling boys what happens when love is torn from their hearts.

As they grow, we tell them they can be anything, do anything, have anything. If they’re willing to work hard for it, fight for it, you can build a world of your making - and our mass media and marketing shows them all the examples of men who have done exactly that.

We tell them to be strong. We tell them crying is for sissies. We tell them asking for help is weak. We tell them to turn pain into power, shame into action, and fear into anger.

We tell boys all of this, and never warn them that a heart emptied of love, passion, hope, and desire, doesn’t sit empty long. And if we’re not careful what takes love’s place is anger, rage, and suffering.

I know.

Three years ago, I rode this bike for the first time on Biking Across Kansas. As is the tradition amongst my friends, we name our bikes after spending some time with them.

I named mine Hope.

Because life was opening up before me in all the ways I had hoped.

I was physically healthy and strong.

My work was challenging, meaningful, and rewarding.

I was deeply in love with a woman, and it seemed she was in love with me, too. We’d talk about how our souls had been made for each other, and how our love made the world feel more vibrant, more full of color.

Then late 2024 and parts of 2025 broke me.

The election of 2024 fractured my spirit, and my humiliation and loss was displayed in front of my family, friends, and entire community. I have a lot of loving friends who supported me, even while others celebrated.

My already bruised heart broke when the love that once helped me feel so safe and secure vanished, without much discussion, concern, or care.

Then my body failed me. Well, my body and a healthcare and insurance system that left me without critical medication I need to manage my chronic illness for nearly 6 months.

I desperately wanted to ride Biking Across Kansas last year. I needed it, and wanted it more than anything. For me, it’s the way I start anew. It’s how I discard the ugliness of the past and sort of hit the reset button for the future.

The events of 2024 and 2025 left my soul tattered, and in desperate need of repair. And BAK is the activity that most restores my soul.

I struggled to find the motivation to train, and even then, my legs would cramp after a only a few miles.

My chronic disease is Ulcerative Colitis, a condition where the immune system attacks the colon, creating ulcers that lead to inflammation, intestinal cramping, and frequent trips to the restroom. I was diagnosed with it in my late 20s and have endured years of various levels of treatment - some effective, and some not at all. It has, at times, been horrifically painful and debilitating.

Treated properly, it doesn’t affect my life too badly. But left untreated it’s a disease that can consume a person’s life, lead to fatigue and weakness, severe depression, and the inability to live much of a life at all.

I lost my health insurance in January, which meant I also lost access to medication - at the time a very expensive injectable biological, Humira. It took several months for me to find another job with insurance, but then had to jump through the absurd prior authorization process, and subsequent rejections from the insurance company, before I was able to secure medication in late May.

After 12 weeks on the medication that had once worked, my body wasn’t responding to it any longer - thus starting again the prior authorization process to move to a different medication. It wasn’t until September/October of 2025 that I felt my disease was moving into remission.

I tried to ride, but couldn’t manage without severe cramps or weakness. I intentionally didn’t eat much food to sort of self manage the effects of UC - but that doesn’t work on long bike rides. Calories are essential to prolonged physical activity.

I had signed up for BAK in January, an attempt to create some new Hope in my life. But I had to concede that I wasn’t physically able to do BAK. Probably not mentally or emotionally fit, either, and that only added to my already growing depression.

We do tell boys not to talk about the difficulties in their lives. We largely encourage them to keep their challenges to themselves. No one wants to hear about the things that make you sad, that make you question or doubt yourself, or reconsider the decisions you’ve made in your life. When love runs cold, we’re trained to do just about anything except look inside ourselves.

Sadness and vulnerability are to be avoided, we’re told, and you certainly shouldn’t admit to any single bit of humanity if you’re doing something like running for office or otherwise living a public facing life.

I’ll not hide from my humanity.

I have been ill and unhealthy and it has affected my life. I have shown bare my heart, and have struggled with the rejection of that love. I know, too, that I have caused that same sort of pain in others. I have been sad, depressed, and broken. I have made mistakes, some of them terrible, some embarrassing, some of them momentary lapses in judgement, others carrying longer lasting effects.

As I write this, I’m sitting next to my friend Tyler, driving through the windswept land towards Johnson City for the start of Biking Across Kansas.

It’s been two years since I’ve been here.

I’ve been training and feel confident - or as confident as I ever feel on this front. I will be excited to see friends I’ve not seen in two years - even though one of my dearest biking friends - Kimberly - won’t make it this year.

I’m happy I’ll get to explore these towns along the route, and I’m eager to ride through the countryside of Kansas, meeting more of the kind and earnest people who make our state great.

I’m excited about doing this thing that for the past 11 years has been crucial to my overall wellbeing.

The physical work strengthens my body.

Managing myself through heat, wind, adversity restores my mind.

Feeling connected to my friends and these Kansas communities heals my heart.

Spending all my effort to reach a new goal each day repairs my soul.

After a few years of enveloping darkness shrouded so much of my world, this drive westward through the changing landscapes of Kansas is stirring something familar.

It feels something like Hope.