Not Asgad, but you get the idea

A few years ago, someone told me about a mountain bike trail that was supposed to be extremely challenging. The Asgad Ascent is off in the middle of the Judean Desert. I had seen the meandering path listed on my maps, and one day I decided to tackle it. I had been riding that morning with friends by the Dead Sea, and I figured I still had about six hours of daylight left, so why not?

My friends gave me skeptical looks when I announced that I would not be returning to Neve Daniel with them but would instead ride another 80 kilometers in the desert. But I am rather stubborn, so I took as much water as would fit in my backpack and set off alone with the map as my guide.

After a couple hours, I reached the ascent. It looked extremely difficult and the rapidly rising temperature was not going to make it easier. But, I have little common sense in these situations and (after checking in with friends on the cell) up I went.

The trail lived up to its billing. Soon I was marking the journey meter by meter. With so much sand and loose stone, I often slipped backwards and had to “give back” distance. But the whole time I could see the top of the mountain ahead of me. And as the time went by, it no longer looked so far away.

Finally I came up to the summit. I was exhausted but feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of conquoring this trail. I put down a foot and spent a few minutes admiring the incredible view, seeing just how far I had been able to ride.

Then I noticed that the trail curved off to my right, out of sight. I prepared myself for a thrilling downhill ride and went around the corner.

Which is when I saw that rather than a descent, the climb simply continued around the corner. I was only halfway up the famed “Asgad Ascent.” I had been fooled by a “false peak.”

I was tired, demoralized, and worried about if I could make it home.

But I had no choice. I called on my cell to check in with friends and started riding up again. I was no longer excited by the challenge. All I wanted was to get back to my car and get home. I spent the next few hours tired, sore, thirsty, and anxious.

Eventually I made it back to the car and returned to Neve Daniel a few minutes before Shabbat.

Stella was cross for me for taking such a foolish risk, and I admitted that she was right. (Although I am still proud in a crazy way at the accomplishment.)

—-

On the treadmill

Stella is recovering from a very serious operation. She is doing great and determined to get her strength back.

The whole ordeal was tough for all of us. Yet in my glorious naivety, I believed that as soon as she recovered from the operation, we could get our lives back. I was so focused on reaching the summit of the surgery, that I convinced myself that it would be a downhill coast from there.

But now I see that we are not done climbing. Getting to and through the op was indeed a huge accomplishment. Yet we are not at the real “peak” yet.  Pathology reports indicate that we will have to continue with some chemo treatments. Although we have indeed climbed very far, we are not quite ready to declare victory and move on.

And so again, I find myself tired, demoralized, and worried.

But we have no choice but to keep going. We have no choice but to keep climbing until we reach the real top and can shout out loud that we did it.

The way ahead will not be easy. We may have to wait a lot longer for the party.

But unlike that day in the desert, I know that we are not alone.

Not by a long shot.

So we will continue the prayers, the chemo, the scans, and anything else we must do. Because no matter how steep the hill, eventually you get to the top.

And I can only imagine how good that will feel.

Yarden Frankl, Neve Daniel

One cannot escape the understanding that for some in the room, the medicine will not be able to defeat the disease. That thought alone can make the room feel dark and oppressive. But incredibly, there are also many bright lights that shine in the midst of such darkness. Here are eight of them that I was fortunate enough to see:

Rav Benny. Rav Benny sat next to us during our first chemo session. He was the first to introduce himself and his calm words helped us settle down and get through that first day. Little did I know at the time that he was a well known teacher of Torah whose students numbered a few of our neighbors and friends here in Neve Daniel. Yet his warm smile to a husband who was going crazy with worry for his wife will never be forgotten, and I am sure capped a lifetime of kindness. We were saddened to hear when he passed away.

The Chesed Ladies. Every chemo session we knew that at some point they would roll in with their cart filled with goodies. They would insist that everyone — even those accompanying the patients — take something from their cart. But it wasn’t the cakes and cookies on the cart that everyone looked forward to. It was the huge smiles and cheerful way they spoke to each and every person in the chemo ward. Every person is treated as an honored guest, not a patient sufferring from a terrifying disease. How they manage to sweep into the chemo room day after day to spread their cheer and warmth is something I will never know. But it is true chesed (kindness.)

The little boy in the hall. One day I stepped out of the chemo room to see a little boy about the same age as my youngest. He was seated on a bench in the hall playing a car racing game on an iPad. I found out later that his father had cancer. He desperately wanted to be there and not be there at the same time. I knew exactly how he felt. It’s tough enough to be an adult when someone you love has cancer. How much tougher for this brave little boy. I sat down next to him and whipped out my iPad. He showed me how to download the game and we just sat and raced cars, never saying a word about cancer.

The woman who was finishing a large  number of chemo cycles and moving on to surgery and then radiation treatment. The chemo made her so sick she had to lay down in a bed in the next room. Her family came and surrounded her bed and softly serenaded her with sweet songs to get her through the chemo session. I have never been so moved by simple tunes. You could feel the love coming from that group.

The elderly lady  in the corner. She needed chemo every week with no end point. She admitted she was ready to give up, but her family begged her to keep going. For the sake of her children and grandchildren she decided to accept the endless suffering of constant chemo. It is so important for cancer patients to know how important they are to others.

Two  friends. Stella has been on an extremely aggressive chemo regime. That’s why when all the other patients went home, she would still be hooked up to the IV. The last hour of any chemo session was hell. Stella did not want anyone to see her when she felt that sick. Anyone except these two friends. We would sit on either side while Stella sat with eyes closed and jaw set. We would look at her and then up at the chemo bag and then back to her face, praying that the chemo would drip a little faster so we could get her home and into bed. By the end, I would go get the car while one of them would practically carry Stella out. It’s not easy seeing someone you love suffering, but that’s why all of us really need our friends.

Stella. Of course the eighth light is Stella herself. At different times throughout our ordeal, I have gotten drunk, punched walls, broke down in tears, and raised my arms to the sky screaming “WHY???” at the top of my lungs.  Not Stella. She calmly accepted the situation and kept telling me that she was going to get through it. At times, I even got frustrated because she didn’t seem to listen to the Doctor’s horrible prognosis.

Once I suggested that we fly to Switzerland to look at mountains. Or go anywhere in the world to do whatever she wanted. But she rolled her eyeballs and told me we would travel one day when she was all better. “Hey, hey, it’s not so bad,” has always been her line when things aren’t so good, and even cancer has not altered her tune.

I don’t know how I could have dealt with the situation if our roles were reversed. But Stella is the bravest, strongest, most spiritual person I know and every day she has the light of a full menorah burning inside her.

Chanuka Sameach — Happy Chanuka.

-Yarden

I started Crossing the Yarden long before cancer, and I intend to write it long after Stella has a complete recovery. So not every post will be about the Matsav. Of course, if you are wondering, Stella had a bit of a rough week from chemo but is now doing fine as we anticipate surgery on January 1.

Now then……

It had all the trappings of a classic cycling competition. Alberto Contador is the three time winner of the Tour de France, two time winner of the Tour of Italy (Giro), and one time winner of the Tour of Spain. I am the winner of a spring training race in Prospect Park, circa 1984 and five time participant in the Alyn Charity Ride (not a race — or so they have to tell me every year.) I am sure that Alberto has been nervously anticipating racing against me ever since Lance Armstrong retired.

Let me just say, I am a Chassid of Lance Armstrong and am in no way a fan of Alberto, who has dissed my hero on several occasions. But I will admit that Alberto is most likely the best cyclist in the world right now, and one of the best ever. I am extremely proud that he came to Israel with his whole team. Sure, Robert Kraft comes here a lot, but has he ever brought the entire New England Patriots team for a solid ten days of training? Nu?

Alberto rides for the Saxo Bank team, one of the top professional teams in the world. I am not exactly sure how it happened, but Saxo Bank decided to have their first training camp of the season here in Israel. While the other top teams are holding their camps in warm exotic places, Saxo Bank came to Israel and even spent time performing charity work.

When there are those in the world who shun Israel and refuse to travel here, Saxo Bank not only came but held a race through the Old City. Big props to the whole team. I am so impressed with them, that it will be very difficult for me to root against them in this year’s Tour (of course I must, because that’s what sports fans do. But still…..)

Last week I got an e-mail from Alyn saying they are looking for a group of riders to accompany Alberto, Mayor Nir Barkat, and the rest of the Saxo Bank team on a ride through the Old City Tuesday evening. As a cyclist, this was just too huge an opportunity to pass up. I figured I would ride alongside Alberto for a little while, tell him about riding in Israel, then let him eat my dust while staring at the back of my Livestrong helmet.

I drove to Talpiot, parked the car, and rode to the Jaffa Gate. My first sense that I had somehow missed something in the translation was when I saw the massive crowds behind police barricades leading up to the Old City. Then above the Jaffa Gate was a huge sign that said “Start of Bike Race.’ Hmm……

Then just inside, I saw a bunch of real serious looking dudes pinning numbers on and getting suited up. I recognized a few including Doron Amitz, former Israeli National Champion who is nice enough to swing by the Gush Etzion bike championship every year and show us the back of his head.

Now, wait a second. The e-mail said “ride,” right? Did I miss the word “race?” Or “race against some of the best cyclists in the world?” The e-mail (after going through Google Translate) read:

Next Tuesday, December 6, group participation event will take place Saxo Bank-SunGard her rider rider Alberto Contador leads Tour de Parnes in recent years. The event will take place in the plaza of Jaffa Gate at 16:30 and will include riding with Jerusalem Mayor Nir Barkat and Alberto Contador. In coordination with the municipality we can put together a group of 20 riders stuck to his head …

Not sure about the “stuck to his head” part, but didn’t see the word “race” anywhere either.

Then I noticed a large group of not-as-serious looking dudes off to the side, some wearing Alyn shirts. Ah-ha, better get over there.

I soon learned that there would be a ceremonial “ride” and then the “race” open to Saxo Bank and the best riders in Israel. That was fine, except I realized that by the size of the crowd, there was no way I would be able to get near Alberto. Of course, I don’t give up so easy.

I followed the press to a nearby area where a table had been set up for a press conference. That’s when I noticed a tent with portable heaters to keep the Saxo Bank riders warm before the race. And then, Alberto Contador himself walks by with a crush or journalists around him. He ducks into the tent to get away, and that’s when I made my move.

Realizing he was probably getting tired from answering all the questions from the journalists (“Why are you here in Israel?” “Do you like our country? “Did you try the steak?”), I came up on the inside, around to his right. I waited to find an opening when I had a clear path, and then I came up beside him and grabbed him with my left arm (in a friendly way, of course) while my right held the trusted iPhone.

“Hey Alberto!” I yelled and snapped the shot. With a fluid motion, I tucked the camera into my jersey and never looked back until I had put a good fifty meters on him.

Relishing my triumphant move, I went to find my bike, while he kept trying to break away from the journalistic peleton. I don’t know about official times, but I made it through the press conference much faster.

I got on the bike with a few hundred other folks who had NOT gotten a picture with El Pistelero (Alberto’s nickname.) Now I realized that while I was making my moves at the front of the peleton, everyone else had staked out a position waiting for the ride to start. By the time I got my bike to the start line, I was way at the back. (Alberto and the Saxo Bank riders were escorted to the front… because I guess they needed a bit of a head start.)

Then we were off. Riding a bike as fast as you can with a few hundred people through the winding, cobbled streets of the Old City is actually fairly dangerous. The only thing that makes it even less safe is some idiot trying to pass everyone. But hey, it’s what I do.

When we finished a lap and climbed back to the Jaffa Gate, I finally caught up to the Saxo Bank squad. But then…they shut down the course and requested that all of us who were not officially in the race, get out of the way so that the real race could start. The bottom line is that I tied with all of Saxo Bank in the only race we have ridden together. Not too shabby.

As far as the other race, you can read the details here.

Seriously, as an Israeli cyclist, it was amazing to be part of this event. And even more amazing to hear what one of the best riders in the world has to say about Israel:

“I’m extremely happy to be here in the first place. This first week of my stay here, I’ve experienced nothing but great support in a fascinating country. Both in Akko when we were doing the cycling school project and here in Jerusalem, people have been very supportive of us. It makes me proud being the first ever to win a criterium here in Jerusalem.”

All right. Alberto you got me. I have a new respect for you.

I guess I will have to root for you in the Tour de France this year….

…..To come in third….

Just can’t help myself.

12 hours.

Over 90,000 shekels raised.

Over 1,000 people following on the blog, Facebook, and Twitter.

Countless spirits raised.

What an awesome night.

I want to say at the outset that it is very difficult to put into words what the “Longing for the Dawn” ride has meant for me and Stella. Throughout the night, we could feel the love and support from literally around the world. For the first time in many months, both of us were focused on something wild and crazy and helpful and positive. It may have been a “one man bike-a-thon,” but really, I was never alone on the ride. Even at 3:30 in the morning, as I rode along a deserted Route #60, I felt a crowd of people were along with me, making every turn of the pedals easier and easier.

So now, here’s the story as best as I can remember:

I was actually pretty pumped for the ride. I decided to wear the jersey from the bike racing team I was a member of a few decades ago, the Sleepy Hollow Bike Club. As a teenager, I was on a competitive team and spent many hours before and after school off on a bicycle somewhere. Maybe I could fool my body into believing I was almost thirty years younger. I added a reflective vest and had mounted a variety of lights to my helmet. I was less concerned with being able to see the road (since there are plenty of streetlights and a full moon) than I was drivers being able to see me. So I tried to glow.

I stocked the car with energy drink, spare clothing, bike tires and tools, a spare bike, and all the electronics (and snacks) that Josh and Avi would need as they followed me around all night. (They were wondering if they would have as much luck getting people to pledge for every kilometer they drove or snack they ate.)

I sent Josh all the info to log in to Facebook as me so he could keep people updated during the ride. Josh and I had a last minute discussion about the plan for the ride and it was time to go out for the start. I pedaled out of my house and over to join my family in the center of Neve Daniel.

This was my first surprise. A huge crowd of Neve Daniel friends greeted me, many wearing specially made T-shirts for the ride. Dozens of kids, all mounted on bikes were raring to go. The Rabbi of Neve Daniel gave a short inspirational talk. Then I tried to say a few words.

Usually that’s not a problem for me. But seeing how many people had come out choked me up and I decided to let my riding do the talking. I took off with all the kids in tow on a ceremonial lap around Neve Daniel. And then, it was time to get to work.

The first two hours, I rode my mountain bike around the Yishuv. I did this mainly so that there would be less traffic by the time I hit Route #60, the main highway through Gush Etzion. Riding around a small Yishuv can get boring quickly, but not on my ride. It seemed that on every corner there were groups of people cheering me on, some ringing cow bells (a European custom at bike races.) In areas where there were no people, purple balloons — hundreds of them — lined the route. The Rav had said I should see the balloons and know that I was not alone. It worked.

At 8:15, I switched to a road bike (graciously lent by Chaim at the Al Derech Burma bike shop) and set off on the second leg, a four hour journey of about 90 kilometers through Gush Etzion. I rode circuits between Efrat, Allon Shevut, Rosh Tzurim, the Gush Moetza, and the entrance to Kfar Etzion. I had Josh and Avi following in the car keeping everyone up to date using a variety of computers, iPads, cameras, and phones. I would look over at the car every now and then and see an interesting blue glow coming from inside.

I had gone over my “fueling” strategy with the experts at Hammer Nutrition, and I took their advice to avoid any solid food and just drink one bottle of a special energy drink every hour, plus a few gels and electrolyte pills. Josh and Avi made sure I was drinking the bottles down and were quick to mix up new ones and hand them off when needed. I had also stocked the car with spare clothing, but found that I only had to change a shirt once and switch to a warmer cap and gloves. Although it was a bit chilly, I did find that riding kept me warm enough to go without a jacket.

Near midnight, just as the Gush loops were getting a bit monotonous (each one was 15km,) my friend Dave Bender e-mailed in that he would be joining me for a little bit on the road. It was a pleasure to ride with him (after talking about riding together so many times.) After Dave left, I was delighted to join up with four more friends from the Bet Shemesh Running Club for the third segment, the ride to Jerusalem.

I always knew that the real fun would start after midnight, and I was right. I was absolutely shocked and amazed when a bunch of friends from Neve Daniel came out to the road to cheer us on at about 12:30. Probably as shocked and amazed as the soldiers at the check point that separates the Gush from Jerusalem.

Riding to the Kotel (Western Wall) in Jerusalem’s Old City was fantastic. Despite my best arguing, they would not let me ride the bike into the Kotel plaza, so for the first time of the evening, I got off the bike and — with Josh’s encouragement — walked over to the Kotel. Right inside the entrance to the plaza, I got another surprise.Guys from the Orita Yeshiva ran over and sang me in to the Kotel. We got a lot of strange looks. After all it’s rare to see a group of Yehsiva bochurs dancing to the Kotel with a spandex clad bike rider replete with flashing lights and reflectors.

Back on the bikes, it was time to move on. Mike and I did a detour to add some kilometers by heading off to the Tayelet and then to the checkpoint by Kever Rachel before catching the other guys on Route #60 headed back to the Gush. Riding bikes on a major highway that was devoid of traffic was fun. For those of you who didn’t know, Gush Etzion is in what some would call the “West Bank,” and this road has certainly seen its share of terror and tragedy. But at that moment, it was a road of life.

It was right around 3:15 AM then I started getting worried. Although I was not yet getting tired, I still had three hours to go and thought I would be alone. It was starting to get really cold. I had kind of gotten used to riding with the Bet Shemesh crew and was not looking forward to riding alone again.

But then I got a nice surprise. Mike decided to stay and ride with me until I returned to Neve Daniel, where other riders had agreed to meet me around 4:30. So to log some more kilometers we did a few more laps through the chilly air between Efrat and Rosh Tzurim.

At four thirty in the morning, we headed back to Neve Daniel. For those who have never visited, Neve Daniel is one of the highest points in all of Israel. That makes for spectacular views and really hard bike rides, especially after you have already been riding for ten hours. But, with really no acceptable choice (I was not going to get in the car for a ride up, that just wouldn’t be right,) we just got out of our saddles and hammered our weary legs up that hill.

Near the top, I was greeted by a most wonderful sight, the most beautiful of the evening. Stella (and Bailey, my dog) were waiting for me. Even though there were still two hours left, how wonderful it was to pull over and get hug from my wife. It may still have been pitch black, but Stella’s smile is dazzling and she can light up the night and even make a frozen biker feel warm again.

As time went by, I was joined by more and more friends. Some were on bikes, and others were waving pom poms and cheering. At this point, having gone over the 200km mark, we were riding slowly and just fooling around on our bikes. But as a crowd grew, I realized that I didn’t want to finish the ride that way. So, I started doing laps and ramping up the pace again. At this point, it was sheer adrenaline .

More and more people showed up as the clock counted down to the twelve hour mark. In all honesty, although I was pretty tired, part of me didn’t want this magical night to end (not that part that had been sitting on a bicycle seat for 12 hours however.)

When was the last time that me and Stella and all our friends smiled like that? When was the last time that we felt really, really good about ourselves? When was the last time that we felt so optimistic about the future? Certainly not for the last four months.

Since Stella’s diagnosis, we have been dealing with the ugly word “incurable.” But we cannot accept anymore when someone tells us that something is not possible. With faith, and perseverance, love, and G-d’s will, anything is possible. So many people giving to charity in Stella’s merit has to have an impact.

We have already seen with our own eyes a scan result that was not supposed to happen. Stella is actually feeling much better and I have no doubt at all that all that the tremendous embrace of love we have felt is the reason. While the ride did not change at all how people have felt about my amazing wife, it did let people participate in a very meaningful way.

So now with our feet on the ground again, we are ready to resume the battle against cancer.

A friend brought over a plate of fruit after the ride. She said we should eat the fruit but keep the plate to use at our Seuda Hodea (a celebratory meal of thanks) when Stella is cured. We like that — and by the way, when that happens you are all invited.

I could not thank everyone who helped out so much individually, but know that we cherish every donation, every balloon that was tied up, every cheer, Facebook post, e-mail, and blog comment. But that being said, let me give an extra special “Yasher Koach” to a few who made this literally the ride of our lives.

Chaim Wizman, Yosef Sonneblick, Reuven Yagel, and Mike Ben Ari who rode to Jerusalem with me (Mike actually stayed to ride back to Neve Daniel.) Chaim is the owner of the Al Derech Burma bike shop which lent me the bike for most of the ride. If you need bike stuff, go visit his store.

Marc Gottlieb has been running my Website for years and was up all night “live blogging” the ride. if you need anything web-related, get in touch with him.

Josh Sussman and Avi Levine were in the support car all night long, keeping everyone up to date and making sure I had everything I need. They both work for Nefesh b’ Nefesh, so if you want to move to Israel, give them some business.

And then finally, there is my amazing, amazing wife. Compared to her challenge, my bike ride was nothing at all. She is my inspiration every day and I will do anything I can for her. Together and with all our friends around the world, we are going to fight this cancer with every once of strength we know we have, and a lot more that we don’t even realize we have.

No matter how difficult the future may be, nothing can take away the magic of that night, nothing.

So this is what it means to “Fight Like Hell” (Lance Armstrong Foundation’s words) and “Ride Like the Wind (my addition.)

If you have enough faith, don’t let anyone EVER tell you that something is not possible.

See you on the road.

Yarden Frankl, Neve Daniel

P.S. There are still donations coming in. If you would still like to donate, click to donate online by looking for the button at the bottom of the page or just sending me an e-mail. Those who have made pledges will get an e-mail soon with instructions for donating.

6:05PM – Rav Matanya Ben Shachar, rav of Neve Daniel, spoke briefly to inaugurate the ride. Yarden’s message to Stella was “I’ll let the riding speak for me.” He did one lap, came back to find Stella in the crowd, kissed her, and was off.

6:15PM – Yarden is off and riding.. He’s lapping the main roads in the yishuv with a few dozen kids in tow.

8:27PM - Yarden is leaving Neve Daniel now and heading into the Gush Eztion circuit of Alon Shevut / Rosh Tzurim / Efrat.

9:15PM - Yarden’s making a second lap into Efrat. The follow car (Josh & Avi) were pulled over by the cops for blocking traffic. They had an ishur (permit).

9:59PM - Yarden’s heading out of Alon Shevut, listening to AC/DC.

10:12PM - the follow car cracked open the popcorn.

10:40PM - We reached the 100km mark. Yarden’s changing his shirt and heading back up to Efrat on his fourth circuit in Gush Etzion.

11:00PM - David Bender (http://www.davebrianbender.com/) joined Yarden for the ride. Yarden is riding at a little over 22km/h. He’s wearing a black shirt (and a reflective vest, and has tons of lights on him).

11:16PM Latitude: 31° 39′ 3.58172”, Longitude: 35° 7′ 43.7543”, Speed: 9 m/s, Bearing: 172°, Altitude: 970.4 meters. Also, a course adjustment because Alon Shevut isn’t The City That Never Sleeps… they shut the gate.

11:32PM - Yarden’s finishing up his circuits in Gush Etzion. Stay tuned for a live video update: http://www.ustream.tv/channel/longingforthedawn

12:00AM - Heading into Yerushalayim. Reached the halfway mark for the ride. Stay tuned for a live video update: http://www.ustream.tv/channel/longingforthedawn

12:12AM - Video technical malfunction. Our crack team of experts is on the case… even though it’s past their bedtime.

12:21AM We are meeting up with the bet shemesh crew [Yarden's bike club from Beit Shemesh. Ed.]

12:45AM Midnight Madness!! Crazy awake Neve Daniel friends came out to greet Yarden and his biking crew on the road to Jerusalem. It’s a crystal clear night, cool and dry. Speed: 12 m/s
Bearing: 36°

12:55AM – Heading into the tunnels on 60 on the way to Jerusalem.

1:06AM – Just entered Jerusalem …should be at Kotel in 25 minutes or so.

1:29AM – Latitude: 31° 46′ 26.7244” Longitude: 35° 13′ 59.7021” Speed: 3 m/s Bearing: 70° – In the Old City of Jerusalem.
2:12AM – Latitude: 31° 43′ 50.5409” Longitude: 35° 12′ 19.9625” Speed: 10 m/s Bearing: 199° – heading down Derech Chevron to Kever Rachel.

2:17AM – Heading back to the Gush.

3:10AM – Back in Efrat.

If you want to keep up with the ride, Marc will be live blogging as long as he is awake, but for reports from the ride itself, friend me on Facebook where Josh will be me.

I know a lot of people are with us tonight, but I don’t feel weighed down in the least.

Together we’re gonna Fight like Hell and Ride like the Wind.

Yarden

Yarden,

I would like to join you for your ride although I am not in shape and have not ridden a bicycle in over ten years. In fact, I am not sure where my bike is or if it has wheels. But I want to be part of your ride.

Hmm…

Let me make a better suggestion.

Stella and I would like nothing more than for all those who have been following our situation to go take a walk on the night of the ride (Thursday, November 10 through Friday, November 11). It makes no difference if you live in Neve Daniel, Maryland, Oklahoma, Ireland, or wherever. Go out for a walk with your spouse, child, friend, or anyone you love.

Don’t talk about work, errands, Mazkirut elections, or so forth. Just focus on how amazing it is to love someone and be loved. Don’t think about the future or the past, for this walk —  just focus on how good the present can be. If you happen to live here, wave when I go by. That would mean much more to me than trying to kill yourself keeping up with a ride that you may not be prepared for.

None of us knows what tomorrow may bring. So let’s take advantage of what we have.

Leave the pedaling to me.

Yarden

We have raised over 50,000 62,000 [Ed.] shekels so far. Thank you. These funds will go to the Gush Etzion Health Fund to help families which are experiencing serious illness here in Gush Etzion. You can still pledge per kilometer, per hour, or make a total pledge by clicking here.

If you were to tell me six month ago, that my wife would have cancer, that it would not be curable, and that she would need nasty chemo treatments every three weeks, I would be miserable. But you know, everything is relative.

Tonight we celebrated that very news.

Let me explain.

The reason for my post a few weeks ago asking people to not ask too many questions was that we were seriously concerned that the results of the scan were not going to be good. In fact, statistically, the best that the scan should have showed was that the rate of growth of the cancer had slowed. Not really the best news you can hear.

So last night, we went to bed both dreading today. We would have the results of the scan plus a full day of chemo. Not exactly a “Yom Kef” if you know what I mean. When we entered the hospital, I felt we were waiting for the jury to pass a verdict, a verdict that was not going to be very nice.

So let me tell you what happened and why we are so happy. Please just keep in mind what I wrote in the begining of this post. We have won a major battle, but the war goes on.

When the Doctor saw me this morning, he came out of the office with both thumbs up. He told me that the scan results were “excellent.” Later, he showed us before and after pictures of Stella’s stomach. The image from a few months ago looked like Stella had swallowed a python. Basically, there was more tumor than stomach.

Today, the scan showed that the python had been replaced by a worm. In the words of the Oncologist, the difference was “dramatic” and that the cancer was “melting away.” When we asked if he had any expectations that the scan would be so good, he said he didn’t expect it at all, but he “dreamt”  it. Stella is responding to the chemo in an amazing fashion that does not go along with the nasty statistics.

(Short break for a virtual high-five.)

So where does that leave us?

Well, it leaves us with a continued schedule of chemotherepy every three weeks. It leaves Stella feeling sick for about half the time. It leaves me with constant worry and I doubt I will get much more sleep.  It leaves us with the knowledge that there is still something in Stella’s stomach that should not be there.

But it also leaves us with a big, shining pile of hope. We firmly believe that anything is possible. If Stella can surprise the Oncologist by shrinking a tumor, than why not prove him wrong all together and find a way to get rid of this thing once and for all?

I still remember when I was in seventh grade watching the U.S. Olympic Hockey Team beat the Soviet Union. As time ran out, the sportscaster yelled “DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES???.”

Yes, Yes, Yes, and YES!!!

So if you have been praying for Stella — as we know so many people are — the prayers are working. Please keep it up.

And even though we may still be in a serious situation, we are whooping it up tonight.

And now, I think I will go out for a training ride with a great big, goofy smile on my face.

(Did you hit “Like” yet?)

Fight Like Hell and Ride Like the Wind.

(Thank you again for everyone who has pledged. It’s gonna be a great ride.)

Yarden

My name is Yarden Frankl and six years ago I moved from Potomac, Maryland to Neve Daniel, Israel with my wife Stella and our four kids. For six years we have had an amazing life filled with equal loads of satisfaction and pride for our choice to make Aliyah, as well as a whole bunch of fun. As a hobby, I started riding bikes and running really far. Everything was really as good as could be, until…

At the beginning of the Summer, Stella felt a pain in her stomach. A few days later, our worst nightmare became our reality when she was diagnosed with late stage stomach cancer. Since then, our lives have been turned upside down as Stella struggles with cycle after cycle of chemotherapy.

While Stella battles the illness and the chemo as best as she can, I have been left sitting helpless while I watch from the sidelines. Wanting to get up and do something, and also concerned about medical expenses, I decided that I would ride my bike through the night and raise money for the Gush Etzion Foundation’s fund for families like ours struggling with serious illness. More on my decision if you read this post.

So now, what began as a late night thought, as turned into a major campaign. People from all over are pledging their support, and Stella and I cannot thank you enough. Really, we see every pledge that comes in, from close friends to those we have never met. It is extremely moving and even if I said THANK YOU a million times over, it would not be enough. I wrote a form thank you letter but it really cannot describe how moved we are each and every time we see a pledge.

Now, with the ride less than two weeks away, it is time to plan the details.

So here are some of them:

I will begin the ride in Neve Daniel, riding laps around a two kilometer section at the center of the Yishuv. I encourage friends and neighbors to come out and walk, run, or bike that evening. I would love to see people as I embark on this quest. One word of caution is that riding a bike at night along streets that are open to traffic is not without a bit of danger. So please be careful if you want to ride with me. Please wear a helmet. Bike helmets have saved my life more than once. This is a ride of hope to get someone well so having someone else go to the hospital because of the ride kinda defeats the purpose, don’t ya think?

After about three or four hours of riding in the Yishuv, I will start my tour of the Gush. I plan to ride through Allon Shvut, Rosh Tzurim, Kfar Etzion, and Efrat….. a couple of times. I will have a support car driving behind me with friends providing real time Facebook updates and videos during the ride. If you live in Efrat or anywhere else in the Gush and want to ride with me at some point in the night, friend me on Facebook so you will know our status.

Sometime around 2:00 A.M. I will return to Neve Daniel. Yes, climbing that hill is not something that I am excited about, but it has to be done. I will finish the ride with more Neve Daniel laps, riding behind some friends who will be pacing me. If all goes according to plan, I will finish 200 kilometers by about 6:20 at the bike park next to the Makolet.

During the ride, I will have several GPS devices to record my progress and will be checking e-mails and Facebook. Josh will have to respond on my behalf since I have experimented and found that trying to type and ride at the same time is harder and more dangerous than peeing from a bike.

Throughout the night, I will be using a variety of products for hydration and fuel. The car will hold spare clothing, bike parts, and even a bike or two just in case, along with a large amount of diaper rash cream.

That’s all for now. If you have not done so, please consider joining me with a pledge either per kilometer, hour, or a total sum. Click here to do so. Your name and amount will never become public. My goals are 200 kilometers and twelve hours. There is no chance I will ride more than twelve hours. If I ride more than 200 km, I will only expect you to donate up to the 200 mark unless you are o.k. doing the total milleage. It’s all up to you.

Cancer effects millions of people. It terrorizes those it strikes and the ones who love them.

On our own, we may feel powerless.

But together…for just one night, let’s do something crazy and show that cancer will not break our spirit.

Join  me as we…

Fight like Hell and Ride like the Wind.

(although I really hope there won’t be much of the famous Neve Daniel wind that night.)

Please help spread these posts around.

THANK YOU.

- Yarden and Stella Frankl

Neve Daniel, Israel

I have said before that the nights are the hardest part for me.

I have lain awake countless times at around two or three in the morning, when my strength is gone and keeping the nightmares at bay is just too much.

Eventually, I give up on trying to get back to sleep and just “long for the dawn” as the Psalm (Tehillim 130) says.

On both a literal and figurative level, the battle with cancer is like one long night.

You long for the sun to come up because usually you feel a little more in control when the sun is shining.

You feel a little bit more hope with each new dawn. When Stella is up and we talk, I feel a bit more of a sense of normalcy and can often push the nightmares back into the box where they hide out.

But getting through the night gets harder and harder.

And I am getting really tired.

I’m tired of feeling helpless while Stella fights her courageous battle with the cancer that has turned our lives upside down. Demonstrating love and support and comfort are a given. Of course I do that as much as I can. But I need to do more.

So I have come up with an idea, and I hope you will join me.

On Thursday night, November 10, I plan to get on my bike at 6:30 in the evening. I plan to ride for twelve hours straight until 6:30 Friday morning. I am asking people to give a small amount of money (a shekel?, a dollar?) for every kilometer that I manage to ride in those twelve hours.  (I am trying for 200.) This money will go to the Gush Etzion Foundation’s cancer fund that helps families like us meet medical expenses.

Cancer is horrible enough. But no one should have to worry about expenses while at the same time fighting this battle.

I am fully aware that this is a bit of a crazy idea. I know that around three in the morning, I will wonder if I can push through the pain and continue until the sun comes up.

But that’s exactly the point.

Stella has chemo every three weeks. Maybe, maybe, I can feel a fraction of the pain she is going through and can come up with better words of encouragement to support her in her struggle.

Or maybe I can’t and it’s just some way I can focus on something where my own effort will do some good.

I’m not asking for charity. I’m asking that you join me in trying to make a difference.

If you live in Neve Daniel and own a bike, please ride with me for an hour (or more or less.) The pace and terrain will both be moderate (within reason — I intend to ride at between 18 and 20 KPH.) If you have seen me gnashing my teeth, swaying the bike from side to side, and whipping past cars on one of my time trials, don’t worry. That’s not what this is about. It will be easy to keep up and since the course will be mostly within the Yishuv, you won’t have to worry about traffic or terrorists. (Do try and bring a light though.)

I plan to bring my GPS watch and my phone so I can keep everyone interested up to date on Facebook.

This is not a race nor a way to take in beautiful scenery. It is simply one man’s attempt to beat the night and feel that I am being useful in the struggle against cancer. So e-mail me if you can ride alongside.

And for everyone else, please consider making a small contribution per kilometer or hour or a total amount. That way when things get tough, I will have motivation to keep going.

All the contributions are tax deductible in both the United States and Israel. Just click here and fill out the info. You can make a pledge per kilometer or hour or just make a total  direct donation. After the ride, I will let those who pledged know how many kilometers/hours I rode for and you can make your donation through the Gush Foundation website. I will send the link.

Thank you for your consideration. I look forward to riding with you — in real life or in spirit.

After a week, there is about five days when she is “not 100%.” (Translation: She feels awful.) But then, she gets a bit over a week in which she feels really good. She walks the dog at dawn, cooks, works, and does almost everything she used to do before we were told “the news.”

So right now, in answer to all the questions, she is feeling good and trying to absorb some calories by eating melted Ben and Jerry’s. (Try finding that one in any of the “anti-cancer diet” books.)

Beautiful Wish from Beautiful Friends

For me, when she is feeling good, I am feeling good. That means that on days like today, I can feel “normal” by pursuing my admittedly “abnormal” activities.

It all started last year when I had a dilemna. I wanted to run with my club to get ready for the Tiveria Marathon at the same time I wanted to ride to get ready for Alyn Bike Ride. So I decided that since the running club normally started runs at dawn and the biking guys liked to sleep in, I would have time to do both. As long as I could squeeze enough calories in, there was no problem and I looked forward to the crazy Fridays all week.

After we got the “news,” I stopped all exercise for about 2 weeks. Then when I was getting a little crazy, I started doing short, fast 10k runs in the morning. But when Stella felt better, I decided (with her encouragement) to get back to my old Fridays. So once again today, we had a beautiful and hard run this morning, then two of us went to Kibbutz Be’eri to ride the nicest bike trail in Israel (IMHO.)

At almost any minute of the day or night, I am consumed with worry about Stella. I think about her when I wake, when I work, when I go to the Mokolet, etc. I know my worries cannot in any way help, but that’s just the way it is. No matter how normal you try and be, when your wife has cancer, nothing is normal. My time is not my own.

Except when I am running hard up a steep hill or biking down a windy, single track. At those times, my mind clears and all I am focused on is the trail ahead. And so for a few brief (o.k., not always so brief) moments, I get to feel like my old crazy self again.

Thanks for all the good thoughts, prayers, jokes, e-mails, etc.

Happy Trails.

BTW — Please read this post from Romi. I was going to write one about the evening but she did it so well.

THANK YOU WHOMEVER YOU ARE!

Yarden & Stella

First Thoughts

July 14, 2005
“Today is the Tomorrow that We Longed for Yesterday”

The words from one of my favorite songs could not have been more appropriate as we waited to disembark from the Aliyah flight. After years of longing, we were finally about to step off the plane as citizens of Israel. I thought of all the pain of leaving the family and friends we loved. I was anxious about what our new life would be like. At the same time, I felt so proud that we had finally taken this step – that we had done what we talked about so often.

The flight had been like no other. The plane was an all-Aliyah charter sponsored by Nefesh B’ Nefesh. Exhausted but proud, we listened as we were welcomed “home.” Just hearing the word “home” brought tears to my eyes.

We stepped off the plane into the sunshine and heard our friends screaming for us from the other side of the barricade. They had made Aliyah the year before and had inspired us in our decision. I cannot relate the feeling of joy as I ran over and jumped the barricade into their welcoming arms. Our new lives in Israel had begun.

 So now, here we are, six years later. We are facing an ordeal that makes making Aliyah seem easy. We are shedding tears, but this time not from a happy feeling of accomplishment, now they are tears because we are afraid. Our friends who were screaming from the other side of the barricade are still with us, holding our hands and being our “rocks.”

We look back at the last six years, and have to say they have been the best of our lives. While we relished our times at Colgate, Washington, and Maryland — there is nothing that could ever compare with waking up each morning and looking out over the rolling hills of this holy land. Maybe we have been remiss sometimes in thinking how incredibly fortunate we are to have found this place, this Neve Daniel.

We hope and pray that the next six years will be even more rewarding.

Stella will begin chemo next week. And believe me, she know that thoughts of thousands — from neighbors we met in the last few years to childhood friends — from as close as next door to as far as America, Scotland, Ireland will be with her.

Give us some e-mails to read during chemo.

We hope that everyone reading has a Shabbat Shalom — A Sabbath of Peace.

Yarden & Stella

Why?

Because we have nothing to report.

No tests, results, meetings, etc.

I originally thought that it would be nice to have a day “off,” but it wasn’t so great.

Someone described  dealing with cancer as “hurry up…..and wait.”

It is very true.

One day the Doctor calls and says “could you just swing by the hospital right now?” and you end up spending half a day there.

Other times, like today, you wait all day to hear test results that just don’t come.

I assume that since it’s now Thursday or Friday (it’s actually 3:00 AM, kinda of in between,) that we must wait until Sunday now to hear the results of the PT Scan.

But what do I know, this is our first time on this ride.

Two weeks ago, I could not say the word “cancer.” The word itself had a power. It felt like if we said it, it would indeed be a possibility. So even though we knew that it was in fact possible, I couldn’t even say the word. I would just get all choked up by the very thought.

There were other words that made me freeze. One day (evening) in the hospital (before the diagnosis,) I happened to look at Stella’s chart. It was all in scribbled, doctor’s writing Hebrew except for one word, “tumor.” I saw that and literally froze. I became a zombie for a few seconds (minutes,) until my friend was able to snap me out.

Now I am trying to take away the power of these stupid words.

Cancer, cancer, shmancer, dancer.

Tumor, Roomer, Schumer (Chuck?)

I still have trouble with the word “oncologist.” For some reason, I get a mind blank and find myself mentioning that we are meeting with the orthodontist, ophthalmologist, or ornithologist (Stella is having her bird checked.)

Another friend suggested that when I freeze up, I focus on a mantra to talk my way out of it.

So first I looked to Mr. Comeback from Cancer himself, Lance Armstrong, for the words of wisdom. I have always liked his quote “pain is temporary, quitting last forever.” It is what he focused on when going through cancer treatment (as well as hammering up the Alps at the head of the Tour de France.) But it isn’t that helpful to me since I am not the one who will be going through treatment.

So I turned to the Chumash, the Bible, for an inspiring phrase. Our friend has a blog called Ki Yachol Nuchal, which is Hebrew for “We shall overcome it!” Joshua says it when the spies come back and tell him that they are afraid that the Land of Israel is too dangerous. They saw giants and said the land would eat everyone up. Joshua knows about the struggles that the Israelite s will face, but also knows that with God on their side, they can accomplish anything.

Now that’s pretty darn good for our situation, don’t you think?

But there are times I feel just overwhelmed and even saying “Ki Yachol Nuchal” is not enough.

That’s when I rely on the words of a friend, who is also one of the wisest men I have ever met.

When I told him that the thought of Stella with cancer was just too much for me to handle, he calmly said:

“Yarden, I hear what you are saying, but with all due respect, you’re full of crap. Of course you can — and will — handle this.”

So when I lie awake at 3:00 AM (or find myself writing posts like this one at that time) and find my worst fears creeping into my brain, I have to chase them away by simply saying:

“Yarden — you’re full of crap. Everything is going to be o.k. Stop listening to your fears and think of the day this will be a distant memory.”

As always, thank you for your e-mails, comments, likes, and prayers.

It’s still a bit too early for my run so I am going to try and grab some sleep now.

Good night/morning.

Yarden

We need to tell you something.

It’s something we have known for a couple of days “unofficially,” but it is still difficult and frightening to say.

Especially now that it is official, confirmed, with no more “slight chance” of error.

I am going to whisper it at first.

Lean in close, this is tough to write.

Stella has cancer.

(breathe)

I know, I know. Just the thought makes my tears flow as I try and come to terms with how our lives have been so suddenly and rudely turned on their heads. Sunday morning we were looking forward to flying to California for our vacation, and a week later we were sitting in the Oncologist’s office looking at a scan of a malignant tumor that had somehow appeared in my precious wife’s precious stomach.

It’s o.k., It’s o.k.(I keep telling myself.)

We’re going to fight this. Both my Mom and Lance Armstrong beat cancer, and Stella’s tougher than them both.

Yet it’s not going to be easy. Stop, let me rephrase.

It’s going to be hell.

But at least we know — from all your e-mails, chats, comments, calls, and visits — that we are not alone.

Not by a long shot.

Please keep them coming. Even if we don’t respond, we do read them all. Address your comments directly to me and Stella. Talk to us not about us. It just feels better when you do.

Maybe the only thing harder than hearing the news was telling our dear, sweet children. I hope that you never have to hear the cries of your children shredding the night calm. To hold them and say that everything will be all right while inside you are still reeling yourself is torture. Cries that stem from deep love are the hardest of all.

I know my kids read these posts and I want you to know — I am so proud that you are our children. I will help you get through this and you will help me. And together, we will be there for Mommy.

And we are not alone. From Hevron to the Israeli Defense Forces to Potomac to San Mateo to a Church in Oklahoma and all around the world — there are people praying for Stella. When I pray I can feel everyone else’s prayers shaking the Earth, and I know someone up there is listening.

As I said before: We’re going to beat this disgusting, cowardly sickness which sneaks up on people like a thief in the night.

Many people already knew the results. It’s hard to put a calm face on when your world seems to be crashing down around you. I thought I did pretty well, but when I heard the whole Bet Knesset in Neve Daniel saying tehillim (psalms) that I knew were for Stella. I just become a blubbering mess.

So much for the tough marathon man, eh?

By the way, some people have told me that I really don’t have to write about all this. But they miss the point.

I have only two ways of coping right now.

The first is to drink a bottle of tequila and scream my head off.

Been there, done that.

The second is to write, write, and write. Perhaps to find a few laughs in between the tears.

You tell me which is better.

Many people come up to me and ask how we are doing.

While I want to say that I feel that I am plunging headfirst into a dark abyss while my soul is being torn into a thousand parts, I don’t think anyone will want to stand next to me at kiddish if I do so. Eating herring is hard enough, but to do so alone is unimaginable.

On the other hand, answering that we are “fine,” is a bit like the survivors of the Titanic describing the voyage as “pleasant.”

The truth is that we are both frightened.

So maybe, instead of asking, just give us a hug and we will know we don’t have to say anything.

Today’s song is from Coldplay. The lyrics fit exactly what I want to tell Stella much better than I could. Listen while you read:

My song is love, my song is love, unknown
And I’m on fire for you clearly,
You don’t have to be alone
You don’t have to be on your own

And I’m not gonna take it back.
Not gonna say I don’t mean that.
You’re the target I’m aiming at.
But I’m nothing on my own.

Got to get that message home

Sometimes I try and race against the big trucks which look like they will never make it up the hill. There is not that much traffic on the road, but what there is contains a mixture of Arab and Jew, cars, trucks, and donkeys. Sometimes I feel a little nervous when I am close to Jaaba, but not enough to make me change my route. I just try and pick up the speed when I get too close.

So last night, as I made the turn at Jaaba, an Arab kid on a bike came racing up to me and passed by. I had been riding at a casual speed, but I figured what the heck and took off after him. We stayed together until the bottom of the hill. That’s when I figured he would turn around and ride home while I tackled the ascent. He looked over at me and I said in Hebrew that he should ride with me up to Kfar Etzion, 3km away at the top of the hill. He stared back at me blankly so I just pointed. He grinned and took off.

I upped the speed and stayed about ten meters back. I was sure that he would crack since his bike is the kind that you can pick up for free by a dumpster. He was wearing jeans and sandals compared to my Louis Garneu bike shorts and shoes clipped into my pedals. I had a water backpack while he had nothing whatsoever. So I figured, hey — I can take this kid any day.

But then he sped up as we started on the first kilometer of the climb. I stayed behind, biding my time. How long could he keep this up. I was sure I could speed up and wave goodbye to him any time.

Second kilometer, he looked over his shoulder at me and gave me a wordless challenge. We both sped up.

Now I realized that the game was on. I had my honor at stake. I represented the Neve Daniel Bike Club. Forget that, it was now Israel vs Palestine and neither one of us was going to give an inch. I had started out the ride ready for a fun training session and wound up in the West Bank Olympics.

I started to pass but he shocked me by speeding up again. We were very close together at this point and I told him there was one kilometer to go. He had no idea what I was saying. We were both sweating, grunting, and trying to coax every bit of speed out of our bikes as we stood up on the pedals and hammered down. Wordlessly we pushed on, our bikes swaying from side to side under us as we both fought to be first up the hill.

I don’t think I have ever ridden this climb this fast.

But it still wasn’t fast enough.

A few hundred meters from the top I realized that I was not going to beat him.

But, you know, it was fine.

We both pulled over and found ourselves grinning. He didn’t speak any Hebrew but we still managed to introduce ourselves. We high-fived and I promised Ayoub that the next time, I was going to kick his ass. With a friendly pat on the back I rode back toward my yishuv while he turned and headed for his village.

Most of the world believes that there is a constant war going on between Arab and Jew out here. At some level, they might be right. But for a moment, the two of us were not Arab and Jew, Palestinian and Israeli. We were not debating the ’67 lines or who had the right to live where we do. No, for this brief moment, we were just two guys who love to bike through one of the most beautiful places in the world.

I hate the fact that there is so much separation out here between peoples that live so close together. I understand it and know that as long as the threat of war and terror hang over our heads, it is the way things have to be.

Yet when we do have these moments when we can see each other as regular people, whether it is buying yogurt in the supermarket or having a friendly bike race up a mountain, it makes me think that maybe one day, we can make peace.