The night crew called this morning and asked if I would talk Rob through a few more miles before a rest break.  What do you say to someone who is pouring out everything he has mentally, physically, and spiritually? It seems inane to ask, “How is your day going?”  Or “How’s the weather?”  Or “Does anything hurt?”  Well, duh.

Rob has had some pain in his feet. The heat and constant riding has produced some rashes, blisters and cramps.

It all seems so small. Insignificant. My life has nothing in it that I can compare in effort, tenacity, perserverance or difficulty.  This I know, the next time something enters my life that feels overwhelming—I will remember the relentless effort that Rob is making second by second, pedal by pedal, mile by mile.

Rob smiles while racing down a highway in Kansas.

How much more do we have in us?  Never tapped, never used, never known.

He woke up this morning after his hour of sleep and for the first time, his brain was foggy.  It lasted 10 minutes and he DID NOT like it.  He values being present in the moment.  He wants to be aware of those around him.  To his core, he loves his people.  We caught up with Rob around noon.  He whispered, “My brain is clear.”  Big smile. Rob’s smile brings smiles.  We just ran into some family from another racer and they said, “Oh, the guy on the recumbent—he always smiles and waves.”

Madisyn Heistand, Kristin DeCou, and Jo Dee Ahmann support Rob during a pit stop in Missouri.

His voice is reduced to a quiet whisper. His throat is swollen and very sore.  In typical Rob fashion he whispered, “So much for giving orders.”  He actually managed with sign language to let his needs be known.  Foremost was keeping to the 10 minute limit for a stop.  He made a watch signal several times to keep everyone moving and aware of the time.

Again I wonder, how does a person who has cycled almost 2000 miles in 8 days with an hour or two of sleep a night, even know what a schedule is?

This morning he said, “the sleep deprivation of the first two days was really difficult.  Now it is just what I do.  Every day.”

Madisyn Heistand, Rob’s neice, massages his hand to relieve cramps during a pit stop in Missouri.

Continually, I see the parallels of the quest for a cure for brain cancer and the quest for a finish of Race Across America.  Both seem impossible.  Both need perseverance.  Both need community.  It takes a lot of work to get Rob down the road and it will take a lot of work to find the cure to brain cancer.   Rob has raised 47% of his goal.  Please give here.