In the following months, I took on the arduous task of preparing my body and mind for the monumental challenge I set for myself – a grueling 3,300-mile bicycle ride across America named Martin's Ride. As I packed, rented an RV, assembled a team, and fine-tuned my bicycle, a mixture of excitement and apprehension coursed through me. 

But as I set out on that first day, accompanied by doctors and researchers from the Duke Cancer Institute, with the wind at our backs and the open road stretching out before us, a surge of determination took hold. Each mile I covered served as a potent reminder that I could survive.

We pedaled relentlessly through scorching heat and pouring rain, conquering steep mountain passes and traversing vast plains. There were moments when the temptation to give up was nearly overwhelming. But I delved deep, tapping into reservoirs of strength I never knew existed, and kept pushing forward.

And then, after four weeks of grueling riding, we finally reached the Santa Monica Pier and the majestic Pacific Ocean. We had done it. I possessed the strength and resilience to confront the challenges that lay ahead.

The journey was made all the more extraordinary by the presence of my sister, Caroline. Her companionship, riding alongside me for three unforgettable days in Colorado, was the highlight of a trip with many memorable moments. Her unwavering support and love carried me through some of the most challenging moments. 

I pushed onward, step by step, breathing thin air, ignoring burning lungs and aching legs. I had a plan. I stopped to take a picture once an hour. Stopping controlled my breathing, and I fueled how my sister taught me. 

Calling the team to join me on the top was fun. On my descent, my Garmin flashed 65 mph. Exhilarated, I smelled burning brakes, reigning in my excitement to control the descent.

That day, I learned that self-imposed limits often underestimate our true capabilities. I overcame the mountain, my fears, and my limitations by conquering doubts and expectations.