In February 2021, my family had driven 24 hours to Florida to visit my sister and brother-in-law. On our very first day there, I felt a lump in my breast. I was 40 years old, healthy, active, and had absolutely no family history of breast cancer. Cancer wasn’t even on my radar. Within days, I was back in Boston, facing a diagnosis that would change my life forever. Hearing the words “You have cancer and it’s aggressive” will never leave my memory. But then I met with my oncologist, who gave me some hope after he explained the targeted drug Herceptin to me.
My treatment included chemotherapy, radiation, and a targeted therapy called Herceptin — a drug that wasn’t even available to patients until 1998. I often think about how different my story might have been if I had been diagnosed 30 years earlier. That’s why I ride. Because the research being done today is giving someone else a tomorrow. Because the money we raise isn’t just going toward science — it’s going toward more birthdays, more memories, more time with the people we love. And as a fitness instructor, there’s something incredibly meaningful about being able to use something I love, moving my body, to help make that possible. After everything my body has been through, I don’t take that privilege for granted.
Being part of the Living Proof community is something I never imagined for myself, but it’s a community I’m incredibly grateful to belong to. There’s something incredibly special about being surrounded by people who understand what it means to hear the words “you have cancer.” Every person’s story is different, but there’s an unspoken connection among survivors. We understand the fear, the uncertainty, the gratitude, and the complicated emotions that come with life after cancer. To me, Living Proof is about so much more than surviving. It’s about celebrating the fact that we’re here, honoring those who aren’t, and recognizing the extraordinary research and people who have made our stories possible. The PMC community brings all of that together. It’s a reminder that even though our individual journeys may look different, we’re all working toward the same goal — a world where more people get to call themselves survivors.
Why do I continue to ride year after year? Because I get to. Those four words mean so much more to me today than they did before cancer. I get to wake up every morning. I get to watch my children grow up. I get to teach fitness classes, spend time with the people I love, travel, and plan for a future that, for a while, felt uncertain. I also know that not everyone gets those opportunities. Through my involvement with organizations like Runway for Recovery and being a Community Ambassador at Dana-Farber, I’ve met so many extraordinary people whose lives have been touched by breast cancer. I’ve celebrated alongside survivors, supported women still in treatment, and watched families honor loved ones they’ve lost. Those experiences stay with me. Cancer doesn’t just disappear from your life when treatment ends. It changes the way you see the world, the way you appreciate time, and the way you understand what truly matters.
I continue to ride because I’m grateful for the people who came before me and helped make my treatment possible. I ride for the people who are in the middle of their own cancer journeys right now. And I ride for the future — for my children, for their generation, and for every person who deserves the chance to grow old.
Until the day we no longer need to ride for a cure, I’ll keep showing up to ride.