I have learned that most good things sit just beyond what I call the "cringe barrier." Posting a singing video when you have never taken a voice lesson. Applying to bike to Alaska when you could not run a mile in middle school. Asking people you know for money. Texas 4000 is basically a whole organization built past that line.

I am on the 2027 ride team. I am not a lifelong cyclist. In seventh grade my biggest fitness concern was whether I would get a 100 in PE. Now I am training for a 10K, playing tennis, and preparing for eight-hour days in the saddle across three months. I am addicted to the feeling of pushing past limits I once thought were fixed. This ride is just the largest limit I have signed up for so far.

Cancer does not work like that. You cannot grind your way through someone else's diagnosis. It has touched my family and the people around me, and it shows up constantly in the stories my teammates tell. A parent who did not make it to graduation. A sibling still in chemo while the rest of us are out training before sunrise. I am riding for those stories too, because once you hear them in a room full of tired college students, you cannot pretend cancer is someone else's problem.

What I can offer is showing up before I feel ready. I started an Instagram singing account because building a small public diary of guitar moments felt more honest than waiting for perfect. At Hum A Cappella, competing nationally meant 16-hour fundraising shifts at UT games, emailing sponsors, getting rejected, and going back the next week anyway. On the operations side of T4K, I want to be the person who figures out the tedious stuff, pit stops, bike maintenance, the planning that keeps everyone moving, so the team can focus on the communities we meet and the people we are riding for.

I also want to pull out my guitar at a rest stop when everyone is this close to giving out, or play something quiet during a hospital visit for someone in treatment. That is the part of this I am most nervous about and most sure about at the same time. It is past the cringe barrier, which is usually where the good stuff is.

The ride is more than 4,000 miles from Austin to Anchorage. If you donate, you are helping fund the training year and the journey first. What remains goes to cancer research and patient support through Texas 4000 grants. I am trying to raise $7,500.

If you want me to ride for someone you love, tell me their name when you give, or reach out anytime. However you support this, thank you for reading this far.