Team Strong Heart: Amazing Race!

Check out the feature story about Team Strong Heart and Camp Odayin, found on the cover and inside the Yellow Scene Magazine, an arts and entertainment mag in the Denver area...

Heart Case
by Jacob Harkins, photo by Ray Rushing

Tim Case rides his bike pretty much everywhere, every day. He owns a home in Idaho Springs, works in Boulder and has a girlfriend in Louisville.

He hasn’t ruled out trying to ride from Louisville to Idaho Springs every once in a while, just for kicks. Knowing this, I figured it would help if I got to know Tim where he is most comfortable, in the seat of his Bianchi.

We meet at Amanti Coffee in North Boulder on a breezy, early spring Saturday morning. The coffee shop is perhaps the capital of Boulder cycling. Most of the java drinkers are dressed in the geeky, barely socially-acceptable cycling gear: super tight spandex shorts, zip-up jerseys pelted with dozens of sponsors, and the always clacking cleats that ensure normally nimble athletes slip across the slick floor.

With some of the best rides in the region just to the north and west of this NoBo hotspot, the café has become the meeting place for Boulder cyclists. Everyone from the city’s seemingly endless line of pros to the more massive group of amateurs love to pedal out on the windy county roads.
Tim, a Boulder firefighter, seems a little uncomfortable with the scene—there’s an attitude of elitism that exudes from many of the groups setting out for a ride in matching attire.
He rides for the Horizon Organics cycling team as a semi-pro and has more endurance than a camel. Tim sports the requisite jersey, goofy farmer’s tan and smooth pedal strokes, but he doesn’t want much to do with the hordes of spandex-clad bike riders. He barely considers himself an athlete, let alone a gifted cyclist.

It’s hard to buy into the “not special” talk when you think about what he will be attempting next month, a solo Race Across America that will take him a mere 10 days.
Some motor homes take longer to get from the Golden State to Maryland. Frankly, I’m a bit intimidated to ride with perhaps the quickest fireman in Boulder.

I had just purchased my first biking jersey a half hour prior—simple white, no advertisements—and hadn’t been on my Bianchi in more than a year. I feel small next to guys with oak-thick thighs about to set off on a ride with a man preparing for a series of 300-mile days.

Tim reassures me countless times that I have nothing to be nervous about, but I can’t shake that anticipation.

We start cruising north on Foothills Parkway, the rolling foothills to our left, immense views of farmland and plains to our right.

This isn’t so bad.

About 30 miles later, my tune changes.

On our approach back to North Boulder, a stiff headwind batters us like a tidal wave, dulling our cycle strokes to a mere 11 miles an hour.
“This wind sucks,” Tim says, glancing over at his exhausted cycling partner.
That’s about the biggest complaint you’ll hear from Tim. He’d just the same deal with the adversity than fuss about it. He knows that when he crosses Kansas during the Race Across America in June, the wind will pound him. It won’t surprise him when snowflakes fog his sunglasses as he climbs the mountain passes around Pagosa Springs. Torrential downpours in the Appalachians are expected.For those last grueling miles of our far-from-difficult ride, I couldn’t help but wonder about the scope of his trip. We’d been away from the warm confines of the coffeehouse for less than two hours. Soon I’d be zipping home at 65 in my Mazda with a hot shower, bed and nap waiting.

Had this been the start of the race, we’d be a tenth through day one and only 1 percent finished with the entire trek. These thoughts dance through my head as the ride winds down and are as painful as the tenderness that had developed on my buttocks.

Tim likely wasn’t thinking too hard about miles 30 and 31, although it’s safe to assume 20 hours into any given day during the race he’ll be downright exhausted.

He can use the kids at Camp Odayin he’s raising money for as inspiration when he’s bleary-eyed at 3 a.m. in the middle of New Mexico.

Woody Hust may seem like your typical 13-year-old. An avid ski racer, heplays tennis, eats just about anything that’s not nailed down—steak and duck, especially—and reads books about war, baseball and history.

But he’s already undergone two heart surgeries.

“You don’t notice he’s a heart kid when you look at him,” says mom Heidi, during a phone interview from her home in Orono, Minnesota. “His insides are all mixed up.”
While still in his mother’s womb, Woody was diagnosed with a critical aortic valve, forcing doctors to perform a valvotomy at birth. Basically, his pulmonary valve replaced his troubled aortic valve and an implant replaced the pulmonary valve. When he was six, he had that implant replaced. Now, his aortic root is expanding, much like a balloon, his mom says. Woody will go under the knife again in a few months.

He’ll face procedure after procedure throughout his life.

But being the weird kid with a zipper scar emblazoned on his chest, who passes out if he overexerts, is far more difficult for a 13-year-old to endure than worrying about years of surgeries.

The first time Woody took off his shirt at the public pool led to a lesson in just how mean kids can be. The major scars were too much for other girls and boys to ignore.
Woody became a teasing target.

“When he actually swam on a swim team at the country club, the first time he took off his shirt in swim class; it was awful,” Heidi recalls. “He came home crying. They were staring at him as if he was a leper.

“He gets made fun of because he can’t run. In gym he has to walk the mile, and he takes a lot of heat for that…a lot of kids are really mean.”

It’s tough being the kid who’s different.

That’s why Camp Odayin has been such a blessing. That’s why people like Tim Case mean so much to the Husts.

“It’s like the best thing in the whole world,” mom says.

Six days, 15 hours and 13 minutes. Four cyclists had just pedaled across America in six days, 15 hours and 13 minutes. Working in tandem, each rider taking four-hour shifts, sprinting 20 minutes on, taking 20 minutes off, they finished the Race Across America in third place. They rode through the night. Under the blazing sun. Dodging the rain, wind and sleet.
Sounds like the battle cry for mail carriers or Lance Armstrong’s fabled U.S. Postal Service cycling team. Yet just a few hours prior to crossing the finish line of the toughest bike race in the world (apologies to the Tour de France), Tim, one of the four, came to a realization.

“We were 100 miles outside of Atlantic City sitting in the RV, and, off the cuff, I was wondering what kind of riding was in Atlantic City,” Tim remembers. “I realized I wanted more of it.

Everybody was wiped out—I wanted more of it.”

Sure, he had help throughout the challenge. It was a relay, after all.
Still, it’s not the type of race that leaves you with energy to keep going east after more than 3,000 miles of thigh burning hell. It’s probably a good thing the Atlantic was there, otherwise, Tim may have pedaled all the way to Europe.

“I was more confident on the bike than off, which is kind of a blessing and a curse,” he says during a casual conversation at an Old Town Louisville coffee shop.

The curse has led to his next goal, trying the race solo. He’ll leave Oceanside, California, June 8, cross the Rockies, Great Plains and Appalachians all by himself, riding 20-plus hours a day in an attempt to cycle the continent in less time than it takes most of us to plant a garden.

Tim’s not thinking about that despite being admittedly nervous about the first pedal stroke. He has the heart-troubled children who find summer refuge at Camp Odayin to keep him preoccupied.

When Sarah Sather’s mother, Barb, starts talking about the heart ailments her child faces, it’s handy to have a few medical books nearby for quick reference.
Sarah has a large ventricular septal defect (a hole in the bottom of her heart), a straddling micro valve (something Barb struggles to explain) and a blocked pulmonary valve.
Sarah’s heart is a one-pump operation.

Despite being just 8, Sarah has already undergone three major heart surgeries to ensure the blood from the bottom half of her body re-circulates. She will undergo another procedure in her teens and faces the daunting probability of having a full transplant in her 20s.
“We’re hoping for development in medical advancements,” her mother says, nervously.For now, Sarah is your typical child (almost) with sufficient energy. She runs around the playground of her

Monte Vista, Colorado, elementary school, playing “Cats” with a few of her close friends.

She loves pizza and spaghetti.

She has few activity restrictions, although there’s a constant worry in the back of her parents’ minds.

“We worry about her more,” Barb says. “We’re close to the school nurse.”

Despite the grave implications of a future transplant, Barb is focusing on one simple thing: “I

want her to live as full a life as possible.”

Sending her daughter to Camp Odayin for the first time this year is a good start.

Tim Case is driven. His whole life, he’s been told what he can’t do, starting with virtually every athletic endeavor through adolescence due to severe asthma.He loves proving people wrong.
“I couldn’t finish a run,” he says. “Proving people wrong; it’s sort of just continuing the story.”That resolve is why he is fairly confident about being able to pedal 3,008 miles virtually

’round the clock and possibly finish in the top five in the race.

But personal reasons aren’t the only motivation driving him. He doesn’t want to let Woody,

Sarah or any of the other 200 or so campers attending Odayin this summer down. Tim is riding for Team Strong Heart, an effort he helped forge a year ago to raise money for the camp through this extreme endurance race.

“I’m just an average, everyday rider. I’m just motivated. I have a good cause,” he says, in a statement that seems to become his mantra the more you try to pry details about his obsession with this challenge.

The cause is certainly a good one. The camp allows kids facing major heart ailments and death on a daily basis to be typical kids for once.

And since Tim’s the only returning member from a year ago, he has to balance supporting these kids, keeping the team strong (four new members will participate in the same relay he finished last year), and training for his solo ride simultaneously.

He feels the pressure of shouldering the Strong Heart load for a tiny camp for heart kids in Stillwater, Minnesota.

Camp Odayin is entering its seventh summer, offering kids the chance to forget about hospitals and mean kids who point fingers.

Campers face a wide spectrum of ailments, ranging from kids with a hole in his or her heart to one pre-teen camper already on her third heart.

Since medical bills for these families run as high as humidity in the Minnesota summer, Odayin charges just $25 a camper.

Offering overnight, day and family camps for children from all over the United States, it relies on funding from four sources: grants, donations, three annual fundraisers, and crazed athletes who seem to think riding a bike across the States in 10 days is fun.

Kids who attend have trouble playing with others. They cannot run for as long, stand the heat as well and have scars that “normal” kids gawk at. Battling severe heart disease when you’re 10 makes you as popular in grade school as the child who doesn’t bathe often.

That all changes at Odayin.

“We want to create a haven for these kids,” says Sara Meslow, the camp’s executive director. “It’s a place for these kids to be normal.”

Campers ride horses, take nature hikes, and participate in arts and crafts. They get to visit the lakefront beach—without a shirt on. Surgical scars become badges of pride instead of sources for ostracism.

There are doctors and a resident cardiologist on site, just in case. Three children have died in the camp’s six years—a sobering reality, memorialized with a plaque showcasing the names of the deceased.

“It’s probably pretty tough when you are looking at your own mortality,” Meslow says. “It’s a pretty tough time.”

Some of the campers know that fate is likely just around the corner for them—others could very well live a long and healthy life. But for these short weeks, all they care about is capture the flag, arts and crafts, and being 11.

Every kid deserves that much.

Tim understands what Odayin kids are dealing with, to a degree. As a child,he battled asthma severe enough that a bout with bronchitis almost killed him when he was just 2. He was hospitalized for a month.

“That was about as close to the edge as I’ve ever come,” he says. “Even though I was pretty young, I still remember it vividly. It set the tone through my adolescent years.”
Growing up, Tim couldn’t participate fully in gym, had to remain inside during heat waves and never considered himself a person with an athletic bone in his body. Sound familiar?

“I was that kid; I couldn’t do it,” Tim says. “It was very restrictive.”

He outgrew the asthma enough to try out for track during high school—still, his doctors thought he was loony. Now he’s serving in a profession, fire fighting, that puts a premium on lung capacity.Tim came to Colorado from Minnesota on a whim to test for fire jobs in the region. He

did well, and has been with the Boulder department for two years.

Yet he doesn’t fit the typical firefighter mold, assuming one exists. He has three tattoos (one of them an admitted cliché, a near full-arm sleeve of a flame), isn’t overly muscular and won’t likely be featured as Mr. August on the charity beefcake fireman calendar anytime soon.

When the other guys in the house are watching the Rockies game, Tim’s head is usually buried in a book. Failed States: The Abuse of Power and the Assault on Democracy by Noam Chomsky, is on his night stand now. “A real light read,” he says of his selection. “I read a lot. I’m a voracious reader.”

Any doubts about his ability to be a firefighter based on his stature (he’s just 175 pounds despite being 6’ 2”) were doused early on. He can haul hoses up three flights of stairs with the best of them.He’s pretty good at that endurance thing, which should come in handy in June.

Tim is confident in his ability to finish, perhaps bordering on the always dangerous cocky. He also understands how easy it can be to fail. A bad crash, knee injury, dehydration: Pick your poison, these are just a collection of the many issues that could sideline the fireman.

But he has set this goal. And you know what, he’s pretty damn stubborn. He also shoulders the load of knowing he’s trying to raise money and awareness for Odayin and carry Team Strong Heart into another year of do-gooding. The entire camp will be following his progress.
He set a modest goal of raising $5,000—during a recent fundraiser at RedFish in Boulder, donations topped that figure. As part of the relay team a year ago, he helped raise twice that. But last spring, Tim didn’t have to worry about logistics of the race or being the spotlight of the fundraising drive. He simply trained. Tim remembers the team’s captain showing up on race day a year ago looking battered from dealing with Strong Heart logistics. It’s infinitely worse for Tim, since he’s going it alone.

“A couple of months ago, he was freaking out thinking we may have to pull out of this,” says Michelle Pearl, Tim’s girlfriend and the physical therapist/masseuse who will be part of the Strong Heart support crew that will drive across the country at 18 miles an hour while Tim toils.

Tim overcame those doubts. Basically, too much was riding on the race, and he knew he was in

no position to complain.

Woody and Sarah have it much worse. So do the rest of the Odayin campers. But because of efforts from Tim and plenty of other volunteers, all they’ll care about this summer are friendship bracelets, lakeside entertainment, marshmallows, ghost stories and building self esteem.
One of the great stories Sara Meslow tells is about Woody. His sister asked if she could come to camp, and Woody emphatically said “No.” She didn’t have the “special” heart required, he proudly told his sibling.

Woody comes back from camp each year beaming with new found enthusiasm and confidence. And he has plenty of people to thank for the Odayin opportunity, but few, if any, are going to the lengths of Tim Case.

Perhaps that thought will help Tim during his final push into Annapolis, 10 days after leaving sunny California when his personal gas tank is on zero.

Then he can take a rest—until he tries it all over again next year.

For more…
• While pedaling across the United States, Tim has volunteered to keep us apprised of his journey. See his blog, beginning June 8, on the Yellow Scene blog page.
• To donate to Tim’s cause, visit his blog.
May 2008

Dateline: Clear Creek County, CO

A strong heart: firefighter plans solo effort in cross-country race
By Vicky Gits, Clear Creek Courant

Tim Case has a firefighter job in Boulder and owns a house in Idaho Springs, but what the 31-year-old spends most of his time thinking about is getting from Lake Henshaw, Calif., to Annapolis, Md., on a bicycle in about 10 days.

Ten days traveling solo across the country translates into 20 hours a day on the bike with two to four hours of sleep a night.

“Usually about half the people that attempt it solo don’t finish, but I don’t intend to be one of those people,” said Case, one of only two dozen people who are registered to compete as solo racers in the 2008 Race Across America.

Beginning June 8, Case will be bicycling cross-country in the “world’s toughest sporting event,” according to Outside magazine. It consists of 3,100 miles, 110,000 feet of climbing and 15 states. Categories include eight- and four-person male and female relay teams, mixed relay and solo.

Case’s goal is to help a group called Team Strong Heart raise $100,000 for Camp Odayin, a residential camp for kids with heart defects and their families.
Sponsored by Medtronic, Team Strong Heart is a collection of bicycle racers who came in third in the relay portion of the 27th annual Race Across America last year.

This will be the first year Case has attempted to complete the route as a solo racer, and he is definitely obsessed — in a good way.
“Every single day that I wake up, I’m thinking about this race. It seeps into everything,” Case said. “When I go to work in the morning, I’m thinking about the race. Every single day you just try do things that let you get a little closer to your goal. It’s like climbing Everest.”

“The great thing is I’m just an average, run-of-the-mill person who knows how to set goals,” Case said. “The most important thing is to have the mind-set (that) I’m going to be on a bike for 20 hours a day.”

Case suffered from severe asthma when he was growing up. “So when I think about Camp Odayin, I see a bit of myself.” Every kid and counselor at the camp has been diagnosed with a heart defect, and campers come from all over the country.
“Activities are adapted to their needs. I know what it’s like to be the kid in class that can’t finish the run,” Case said. “It gives them a three-week experience as a normal kid.”

What’s his training regime? Case spends a lot of time riding the bicycle outside, getting a lot of sleep and staying active. He races 15 to 20 times a year with a bike team in Boulder. Last week he took vacation time to go and train in California where the weather’s better.

To get through the race, Case will have a van and a crew of six people. The hardest part is after dark. “Overall it was extremely tough, mentally and physically, to get through the late and long nights. It’s very lonely and isolated out on the road in the middle of the night,” Case said.

He doesn’t necessarily live only on power bars and sport drinks.
“Food is a process of trial and error. There’s nothing like a cupcake at 3 o’clock in the morning.” He said his first real meal after the race last year was a double bacon cheeseburger with large fries.

For information on the race, visit www.raceacrossamerica.org

Just Got Home

Howdy from Colorado,

Michelle and I rolled in (on four wheels, not two) to Colorado last night. Last time I was in this state I was pushing east through Durango and Pagosa Springs. What a difference a week makes!

I've had a few days of drive time to decompress from the RAAM and I think this process will continue for many moons. Literally everyone I've spoken with lately has bandied about the terms "hero," "superhero," "amazing racer," etc. I must say that I do appreciate the acknowledgment of what I've just done, but honestly I feel like an average rider and an average, everyday kind of guy.

I want you to understand that each of us can achieve victory in our own special and unique way. My victory came at the hands of 11 days of brutal, grueling and sometimes inhumane struggle for competition and survival. Your victory can come after a hard day at the office, dealing with a rude neighbor or working through a problem at school with your kid. David Bowie was and still is right, we can be heroes.

Your kindness, support and prayers fueled my fire across the country. The thought of Michelle reading me your comments while out on the road still brings me to tears and helps me remember that nobody is every completely alone. The solo RAAM experience is one of isolation and loneliness and so your thoughts and support cannot be underestimated.

My body and mind are going to take time to heal. I spoke with Bernie on the phone yesterday and told him that I'm feeling slightly weak and vulnerable. The past couple of weeks stripped me down to the bare essentials, quite literally I was a cycling organism, nothing more, nothing less. I wasn't a brother, a firefighter, a boyfriend or a son. I was a bare human, peeled of ego or malice or greed or any other characteristic that may manifest itself day in and day out. The next several months will be a rebuilding process for my body and my mind. Your continued support and understanding will continue to fuel my fire as I move forward.

Yes, I'm already making a game plan for next year and beyond. I've put the feelers out there for continuing the Team Strong Heart legacy and building on the amazing first few chapters we've put out there so far. Solo RAAM will probably not happen for me next year, but RAAM will happen in some fashion. Solo RAAM is still out there and yes, I do want to tackle that projct again. 2010?

I've already begun creating a "race recap" of sorts, trying to capture some of the infinite number of highs and lows during my race across the country. My writing hasn't taken me to Arizona quite yet and already I'm at about 5 pages single spaced.

Honestly, reviewing the race is a somewhat "painful" experience. I experienced many sorts of trauma during the event, but frankly, I wouldn't have changed any of it. From physical injury to firing crew members, to pushing through when I couldn't possibly muster anything more to turning the corner and checking in to the last time station. The 2008 RAAM was a formative and life changing experience.

I suffered so that the kids at Camp Odayin would and will eventually suffer less. Hopefully my efforts demonstrated to them, to myself and my crew, to my family and friends that when Tim Case is in your life, you have a dedicated, insightful and hardscrabble fighter who will go the distance when times are good and when times are bad.

The decisions and choices we make each and every day were encapsulated and pressurized in RAAM. Do you quit or do you move forward, do you rest or do you continue the fight, do you roll over and plead mercy or do you go on the hunt and push on, are you a person of integrity and character, or are you a person of deceit, will you be honest within your own limitations or will you try and be something you are not, will you lay down every single ounce of your self for others or will you pack things up and head home early, will you live and breath your passion for the sport of cycling or will you fold up and give in? Choose wisely.

In the upcoming weeks I'll be posting my recap of RAAM, along with photos and random thoughts from the saddle. I've decided to break the story up into three parts, coming from the three time stations we had to get to in order to continue on, Taos, New Mexico, the Mississippi River and then finally Annapolis, Maryland.

Stay tuned, keep me in your thoughts and always, keep the rubber side down.

TC

2008 RAAM Announcement

Hi all,

So after much consideration and a series of "sleepless" nights I've decided to attack the 2008 Race Across America as a SOLO rider.

I recently had a revelation that spurred my interest in the SOLO aspect of the race and believe that I will be well suited and prepared for next June.

You might be thinking "this guy is crazy" and you know that I actually appreciate that thought because it acknowledges the lunacy of racing a bicycle 3100 miles in a very short amount of time. I'm choosing to carry the momentum from our 2007 effort and parlay that excitement, intensity and passion into next year.

Of course, my race effort will not be possible or complete without a complement of crew and supporters for the journey. If you would like to be a part of this Team Strong Heart endeavor, please contact me directly at timothyleecase2005@yahoo.com or through your Team Strong Heart contacts.

Keep the rubber side down...

Tim Case

Why I'm Here

Many people have asked me why I am doing this race. Why take one rider (me), put him on a bike for 22 hours a day for 9 or 10 days, fighting weather and terrain, to get from one ocean to the next?

There are many answers to this question, of which I'll give you a few. I'm doing this race because I believe in the power of the human spirit to work against adversity and work for progress. For whatever reason, and no I don't believe in destiny, I was given the gift to ride my bike for gross amounts of miles and still feel good enough to get up the next day and do it all over again. My life, from birth, has been filled with moments where I was told that I can't do something. Those of you who know me well know that I had severe asthma growing up and lived a life of seclusion from other kids who were able to get out and enjoy the heat, enjoy the humidity and really find themselves out on the playground, on the field, on the courts, etc. My life now is one of inclusion, rather than exclusion, a life filled with virility, purpose and determination. When someone asks me how I can do this race, my gut reaction, from every cell, is, how can I not do this race? How can I not line up tomorrow at noon, turn over that first pedal and ride my way into the books? How can I not raise money for Camp Odayin and provide the quintessential summer camp experience for kids who are struggling with health issues in a manner similar to what I experienced? How can I not answer the call, step to the plate and all of those other cliches, and do everything in my sane and insane mind to get to Annapolis? How?

The journey to the Race Across America started many moons before I got to Oceanside this year. The incredible work of Bernie, Greg, Neil, myself, Bill and all of our family and friends laid the groundwork for what is about to transpire and perspire. I am forever indebted to these fine individuals and, despite our distance, count them as brothers. Standing in Lake Henshaw, CA last year, waiting for my first turn in the relay, my heart pumping, literally a buzz in my ears, I knew that I had discovered a special and very necessary purpose in life. Riding four-abreast into Atlantic City with my compatriots, onto the boardwalk in Atlantic City, I was hungry for more.

So...the purpose and true reason for lining up tomorrow is this: I am putting my life and heart on the line so that others might live and prosper. THIS IS MY CALLING. THIS IS TEAM STRONG HEART.

Signing off for now.

Yours,

Tim Case
Solo Racer
Team Strong Heart

Back to It.

Well...back to racing, beginning this Sunday we tackle the fabled and feisty Koppenburg course out in Superior, CO. Think an hour to an hour and a half of your worst nightmare...fast, fast descending, a massive, broiling peloton, dirt and gravel roads, and the Koppenburg climb...gnarled, rutted dirt and body strewn chaos. Really, it's just like that.

Anyway, I'm stressing about racing on Sunday...sure I'll do okay, even if that means last place, though I doubt I'll end up carrying the lantern rouge. We of Team Strong Heart and we, as cyclists, are a passionate group. Yes, we have the fire that drives us to spend much, much time on our bikes, at the gym, on the roads, away from home, across the country, etc. But there's so much more.

My orthodoxy is my training. My practice and my celebration is the race shared, won and lost with comrades. Our battles are fought in office parks, on city streets, on Route 66, across Kansas and 13 other states, on the trails, in the morning when our closest are still sleeping, done before most people even get to their second cup of crappy drip coffee. I've crossed many finish lines in life, actual and metaphorical. Racing has brought me there and maybe it has (or will) bring you.

Cycling and racing for the past decade has drawn amazing perspective in my life. I've seen some wonderful and terrible things racing my bike and riding with friends. We've even lost a few of our closest friends to the sport, gone away doing just what they wanted. I pray I'm that lucky. I was reminded just yesterday that even a bike brand can be painfully and wonderfully associated with those who've come...and gone. Thinking of you and your Bianchi Greg.

We are tied to this sport, irrevocably so in my case, because many of us know that the true finish line is always just ahead, sometimes out of reach and sometimes right in the palm of our hands. I get out there and beat myself up every single day for the kids at Camp Odayin, for my own health, for my loved ones (new and old) and for all of you who care enough to read this silly blog. I've fought and won, but lost more times than won. And that's made all the difference in my itty-bitty world.

See you at the start line and always, keep the rubber side down.

Tim

Re-Up

Hi there,

Just got back late last night from a quick vacation down to Florida to visit Grandma Case. Was greeted with super high winds, geriatric drivers and a bunch-o-rain.

Spent a few days resting and recovering from a CRAZY couple of tours at work, which culminated in a rather large apartment fire where my comrades and I rescued 4 people from the third floor of the building that was on fire. Check this out...

Decided to go for a run and remembered, quite immediately, just how much I love cycling and just how much I hate running. I just don't get it. Okay, I was running on the beach and all, but my Chariots of Fire delusions just didn't cut it after a while.

Well, the e-mail flurries from my Boulder based cycling team are falling into my inbox just as readily as the white fluffy flurries dropping out of the sky up at my mountain chalet, I mean, house. Planning for 2008 is already underway, the biggest local announcement being that my Wild Oats Cycling Team will be sponsored by Horizon Organic for 2008. No Wild Oats (vis. Whole Foods buying them out) means no sponsorship. No worries! Horizon Organic is a solid company and my team will be going strong through next season. For heaven's sake, our first group ride of the year is already this weekend! So much for the "off season."

Team Strong Heart and yours truly have a whole bunch of work coming up with sponsorships, donations, budgeting, etc., but we are all extraordinarily excited about the upcoming year. There isn't a day that goes buy without thoughts of the 2008 Race Across America.

Bring it!

Tim

Crew Roster and New Addition...

Well...now we are set...Shaun Smith has agreed to come on board as a crew member with the Team Strong Heart Solo effort in, oh I don't know, 39 days away.

Shaun is a great guy and a New Zealander (former?) to boot. He lives with his wife Erin in Louisville, CO and has a wicked accent.

Aside from Shaun my complete crew roster includes:

Michelle Pearl - Physical therapist and massage therapist by trade. She was recently voted "Best Massage in Boulder County." Not too shabby...

Kevin Case - One of my two brothers and a grad student who almost has his grad degree in hand. Kevin's making the trip out to Colorado to start our journey by way of Pennsylvania after he graduates from the University of Illinois.

Gordon Shaw - This gent is making the trip to support Team Strong Heart all the way from the UK, Glasgow University to be exact. Wow!

and Eric Begin - Eric's a co-worker of mine at Boulder Fire Rescue and a former cycling teammate of Tom Danielson at Ft. Lewis College. He's the de facto crew chief for my solo effort this year.

I cannot even begin to describe how lucky I've been this year finding these amazing crew people and coming across so many different supporters from all walks of life.

Let it begin!

Tim