Washington D.C.

8.14.2010

Just typing that blog title gives me chills. I’m writing this entry a few days afterward, after I’ve had some time to reflect on the trip. Thinking back on that last day of riding, that last 30 miles that marked the end of my journey, and the guys I was riding with (in an illegal 20 man double pace line the whole day), it really summed up what the summer had been. I made a special play list for the occasion, and we were rocking out to every cheesy pop song you could imagine. There was one point where our whole team was stopped together at a red light, singing and dancing to California Gurls in the middle of the street, much to the amusement / terror of passers by. I was looking around at all the men I had just come so far with, thinking about how close we had all gotten, and realizing that tomorrow we would all be so far apart. The entire experience was just so surreal.

It didn’t really hit me when we were riding down Pennsylvania Avenue and saw the capitol building looming up ahead. It started to hit me when we were standing on the capitol lawn and I looked over and saw my parents. When it really hit me was when we were all gathered at the banquet, looking around at all the south route boys, rocking our new tank tops and some killer tan lines. They put on a slide show with a bunch of pictures that had been taken this summer. The last picture to come on the screen was one of the whole team standing on the capitol lawn. That was the tipping point. All I could think to my self was, “That’s it. That’s the Finish Line.” I cried like a little boy who fell off his bike for the first time. It was like no emotion I had ever experienced.

The Journey of Hope has given me insights that no other experience could provide. It has taught me more about my limits, my patience, my personality, my attitude, and my relationships than any other single event in my life. It has given me an appreciation for the good fortune I have been blessed with. The biggest problems I’ve ever had to deal with in my life are pale in comparison to the hardship that some people experience daily. I am so happy that I was able to keep this blog, to remind me of each person I’ve met and each of their stories. Their strength is something I can look to for inspiration.

Here’s to the good old southern boys. Best summer of my life.