{"id":235723,"date":"2025-10-23T19:05:12","date_gmt":"2025-10-23T19:05:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/235723\/"},"modified":"2025-10-23T19:05:12","modified_gmt":"2025-10-23T19:05:12","slug":"the-fiercest-sisterhood-in-cycling","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/235723\/","title":{"rendered":"The Fiercest Sisterhood in Cycling"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Estimated22 min read<\/p>\n

If you\u2019ve been to five (or five thousand) group rides<\/a>, you know the drill. You pedal to a parking lot, wait for everyone to arrive or for the clock to strike a certain time, then you roll out. This one in Wellesley, Massachusetts\u2014a leafy community about 15 miles west of Boston\u2014follows that familiar script.<\/p>\n

Nine riders in matching kits<\/a> head south in a tight paceline<\/a>. Within 10 minutes the group is cruising through a sylvan New England wonderland, past boggy wetlands and stately colonial-style manors under an endless canopy of shade trees.<\/p>\n

The shared communion of a well-organized group ride is a beautiful thing\u2014and it\u2019s on full display here. The riders call out obstacles and the occasional passing car. There are bursts of social chatter and moments when all you hear is breathing and the thrum of freehubs. There are a couple of tough uphill<\/a> stretches where the paceline fractures, then regroups at the top before rolling onward. In these respects, this ride is like nearly every other group I\u2019ve ridden with.<\/p>\n

Otherwise, though, it\u2019s entirely different. First, all nine riders are women, ranging in age from 53 to 62, a demographic often underrepresented\u2014even invisible\u2014in cycling. I\u2019ve been on hundreds of group rides and passed thousands more over my decades of riding, and I\u2019ve never seen a group that looks like this. <\/p>\n

\"teamGetty Images (film); Courtesy Nancy Saperstone (group)<\/p>\n

After the 2025 Pan-Mass Challenge in August.<\/p>\n

But it\u2019s more than basic demographics. Most of the women have endured life-altering struggles. Four have tangled with breast cancer. One lost a child to a brain tumor. One is a 9\/11 widow, and another was in the thick of the chaos at the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing. All of them have experienced the sort of existential challenges that define this phase of life\u2014crises and health scares with kids, the undulating tides of careers and marriages, the aging and passing of parents.<\/p>\n

Related Story<\/p>\n

Many of the women have ridden with each other for years. There have been countless morning rides and scores of long weekend rambles and some lovely multiday getaways, but the glue that connects them is the Pan-Mass Challenge<\/a>. The PMC, which was founded in 1980 and benefits the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston, has raised more money than any other single athletic fundraiser in America. Just last year, the event passed the $1 billion threshold. These riders collectively have ridden the PMC more than 150 times and raised over $1.5 million. The PMC offers a variety of distances and formats, but these riders typically participate in the centerpiece ride\u2014a two-day journey from either Wellesley or Sturbridge to the tip of Cape Cod that stretches over 160 miles. \u201cThe PMC is not the end of what we represent as a group,\u201d says group member Carie Capossela, a breast cancer survivor who has ridden the event 20 times. \u201cBut it is the start of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"aTony Luong<\/p>\n

In Wellesley this spring.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s clear that the women are bonded by this deeply personal common cause. And they\u2019re all aware that this year the money they raise for Dana-Farber is more vital than ever, as the current administration in Washington seeks to defund biomedical research that historically has powered new cures and improvements in care.<\/p>\n

For a while, the women called themselves the Biking Goddesses. For better or for worse, it was Nancy Williamson who coined the name: About a decade ago, they had a group text that someone had called Biking Ladies. \u201cI can\u2019t stand how some college teams call themselves the Lady Cougars or whatever,\u201d Williamson says. \u201cThey\u2019re the Cougars as much as the guys.\u201d She decided to rename the chat Biking Goddesses\u2014and it stuck. \u201cI mean, it\u2019s a little much, right?\u201d she laughs. <\/p>\n

None of the women took that name too seriously anyway. Says Wendy Fischman: \u201cI see it as princess-y. And we\u2019re the opposite in every way. Everybody\u2019s down to earth and more about the collective.\u201d They now call themselves the BGs, with the two letters discreetly gridded on their matching jerseys.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve come to Wellesley ahead of the 2025 PMC to ride with the BGs and talk to them about their riding lives and the experiences that have shaped them more broadly. The banter is light, but these women have been through some shit together. One of them, Laura Olton, is an old friend of mine from college. She\u2019s had two separate battles with breast cancer and somehow remains one of the more upbeat people I\u2019ve ever met. We\u2019re connected on several social media platforms, including Strava, so I\u2019ve gotten a glimpse into how her riding life centers around the BGs.
<\/p>\n

The group has a rather voluminous and sometimes spicy group chat, where ride logistics and kit decisions and personal matters are hashed out. Many people in their 50s and 60s find that life can be isolating in various ways\u2014where even busy people struggle to find meaningful connections beyond work and family\u2014but the BGs have created a tightly knit community in which they can hang out regularly, train together, share a common mission to tackle a big summer ride, raise money for cancer research\u2026and something deeper and more personal than that.<\/p>\n

Says Lisa Hughes: \u201cIf you had told me 15 years ago that\u2026I would meet this group of women multiple times a week and go on rides, I would have said, \u2018What are you talking about?\u2019 My life before the BGs was full, but my life with the BGs is much richer.\u201d <\/p>\n

\"womenTony Luong<\/p>\n

BG group rides often include coffee; if pastries are involved, all the better. <\/p>\n

After a brisk 25-mile loop down to Medfield, the group cruises back into Wellesley. Nearly all of their rides these days end with coffee. The morning had been overcast, but now the sun is shining as everyone sips espresso drinks at a table outside Caff\u00e8 Nero. While these women have known each other and trained together for years, the social aspect of the group really blossomed during the early years of the pandemic. \u201cBefore COVID, we didn\u2019t stop for coffee,\u201d says Fischman. \u201cWe really gelled back then. For most of us, it was our only social outlet.\u201d<\/p>\n

When you ask the BGs about the time spent on the road together, they talk about their longest, toughest adventures. But they also talk about the ways a meaningful part of your life can unfold with good friends on a group ride\u2014all the little moments, the things that transform a two-hour loop into an adventure, that turn a riding buddy into a close friend. The time they huddled in a church during a torrential downpour, the turtle they moved out of the road, or the time a bee flew inside Nancy\u2019s jersey. The unanswerable debate about why someone would leave a smashed head of lettuce in the road. The banter about The White Lotus and what the president said yesterday, the heart-to-hearts about chemo and dying parents, the pep talks about how to stand up for yourself at the office.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ve known for a long time that riding has the power to change people\u2019s lives in profound ways\u2014to give them things like community and purpose and resilience. But the BGs seem to manifest some of these powers in ways I\u2019ve rarely seen. \u201c[We have] such different personalities,\u201d says Patti Quigley. \u201cWe can talk about almost anything. It helps how on a ride you are near someone but not face-to-face. People are more likely to just say shit that way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Each of these nine women has her own story and deserves her own spotlight\u2014but together, they\u2019ve built something extraordinary.<\/p>\n

\"horizontalPATTI QUIGLEY\"portrait<\/p>\n

Tony Luong<\/p>\n

The first blow came in 2001 when Patti Quigley lost her husband, Patrick, on September 11. He was on United Airlines Flight 175, which was hijacked after its departure from Boston and then flown into the World Trade Center\u2019s South Tower. At the time, Patti had a toddler and was eight months pregnant.<\/p>\n

A year later, Patti and another 9\/11 widow started planning a charity ride from New York to Boston. It was an ambitious idea, because Patti didn\u2019t own a bike at the time. But since Patrick had ridden when he was younger, it seemed like a fitting tribute.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were raising money for women in Afghanistan,\u201d Quigley says. \u201cThe connection was that we were widows of a terrorist action, and now America was going to attack Afghanistan and make more widows\u2026and for what reason?\u201d<\/p>\n

Quigley quickly fell in love with cycling. \u201cI found it cathartic,\u201d she says. \u201cI love the endorphins I get from it. I love the simplicity of it and the camaraderie and the coffee and the way your mind can go anywhere it wants. And I love how you can eat food and ride at the same time!\u201d<\/p>\n

I love the simplicity of [cycling] and the camaraderie and the coffee and the way your mind can go anywhere it wants.<\/p>\n

Quigley rode her first PMC in 2005. \u201cWhen I started, I didn\u2019t have any personal or family connection to cancer,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

That changed in 2008 when she discovered a lump in her breast. She underwent a lumpectomy, a round of chemo, and then radiation. She kept riding during most of her treatment, eager to get on with her life.<\/p>\n

Related Story<\/p>\n

But then another curveball loomed. Quigley recalls being at the Natick Mall before Christmas in 2008 and getting a call from her oncologist. The doctor asked her to sit down. She\u2019d ordered a chest MRI to make sure Patti\u2019s cancer hadn\u2019t spread, and the scan had revealed a heart defect. \u201cAt that point, I was like, what the fuck,\u201d she laughs. The diagnosis was an aortic aneurysm\u2014an asymptomatic bulge in her aorta that could rupture if she engaged in intense physical activity.<\/p>\n

Quigley was devastated at first. After a cardiologist said she\u2019d need to keep her heart rate below 150, she thought her riding life was over. But eventually she reached a state of enlightenment. \u201cI realize now that getting breast cancer saved my life, because otherwise I would never have gotten that MRI.\u201d<\/p>\n

And, it turns out, her riding was hardly over. Quigley was back in business after getting a Specialized Turbo Creo SL e-bike. This summer marked Quigley\u2019s 21st PMC. \u201cYou still can work pretty hard on an e-bike,\u201d she says, noting that she always monitors her Garmin computer to track her heart rate\u2014and how she takes long pulls at the front of group rides \u201cto break the wind for my friends.\u201d<\/p>\n

NANCY SAPERSTONE\"woman<\/p>\n

Tony Luong<\/p>\n

Nancy Saperstone isn\u2019t a cancer survivor. She hasn\u2019t endured cinematic crises. She isn\u2019t one of the faster riders or the loudest personality. But Saperstone is the kind of rider and personality that makes a group stronger.<\/p>\n

Saperstone was a runner before she was a rider. She ran a couple of charity marathons in the late \u201990s, and she smiles recalling how a friend told her she was getting too old for marathoning. For her 40th birthday, she and her husband did a Backroads trip to Italy. \u201cThat was the beginning of more,\u201d says the 15-year PMC veteran.<\/p>\n

Riding the PMC is a highlight of my year. It\u2019s the most impactful, motivating, phenomenal experience.<\/p>\n

While Saperstone repeatedly notes that she\u2019s one of the slower BGs, nearly everyone in the group calls out her endurance\u2014how she\u2019s always trying to get everyone to tackle longer and hillier rides, like the B2VT (Boston to Vermont) event, a 100-plus-mile ride with 8,000 feet of climbing. It also turns out she\u2019s the group\u2019s resident flat fixer.<\/p>\n

Some elements of Saperstone\u2019s life are in flux. She and her husband no longer live in Wellesley, splitting their time between Park City, Utah, and Chestnut Hill, about 10 miles from her former home. So joining morning BG rides is a challenge. \u201cMy husband would rather be in Park City,\u201d she says. \u201cBut I want to be home and ride with my friends.\u201d<\/p>\n

Saperstone takes the training seriously. \u201cIn Boston and Utah, we don\u2019t start riding till March or April,\u201d she says. \u201cSo to get ready to ride almost 200 miles in two days by early August is not an insignificant thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

Above all, it\u2019s the camaraderie that makes things click for Saperstone. \u201cWe know each other\u2019s quirks and can just laugh them off,\u201d she says. \u201cThis is just the most supportive group. We talk about everybody\u2019s kids and travel and husbands and lives. We have a lot of political discussions these days, and thankfully we lean the same way.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRiding the PMC is a highlight of my year,\u201d adds Saperstone. \u201cIt\u2019s the most impactful, motivating, phenomenal experience. You keep passing people holding signs that say \u2018I\u2019m here because of you\u2019\u2026I get a little choked up even thinking about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

EUNICE GROARK\"portrait<\/p>\n

Tony Luong<\/p>\n

Like lots of people, Eunice Groark loved to ride bikes as a kid, loved the freedom she felt as she cruised around on her 10-speed. But then, like lots of people, she eventually stopped riding.<\/p>\n

Everything changed in 2005. That\u2019s when her son Harry was diagnosed with a rare brain tumor after he started kindergarten. \u201cThat year he went through multiple brain surgeries,\u201d Groark says, adding that she learned about the PMC because one of Harry\u2019s doctors was riding to raise money for pediatric cancer research.<\/p>\n

In 2007, Groark and her husband bought bikes and began training and fundraising for the PMC. \u201cI was hooked\u2014on both cycling and the event,\u201d she says. This year marked her 18th PMC.<\/p>\n

Cycling became a form of self-care for Groark. \u201cIt was this place I could get away, where I wasn\u2019t the mom with a sick kid,\u201d she says, recalling the hours she spent talking to doctors and insurance companies and researching treatment protocols. It was also a place where she could work through her emotions. \u201cThere were days where I was so angry and could go out and say, I\u2019m going to ride up this hill 15 times and pound it out.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was this place I could get away, where I wasn\u2019t the mom with a sick kid. <\/p>\n

Groark was the last person to join the BGs. For years, she trained and rode the PMC with a friend who eventually stopped riding. And then in 2020, Harry died. Groark contemplated giving up cycling. But ultimately she realized that she still loved cycling and the PMC. \u201cIt\u2019s therapeutic riding in his memory and going back to a community that supported me for 15 years,\u201d she says. \u201cI still need to be a part of that.\u201d<\/p>\n

A few years ago, the BGs, who had often seen her at the PMC and riding around town, invited Groark to join the squad. \u201cI feel fortunate to be a part of a group with like-minded women who love cycling,\u201d she says. \u201cThe rides themselves are pretty quiet. At least for me. I mean, they zip right along\u2014I\u2019m quiet because I\u2019m holding on for dear life.\u201d<\/p>\n

Groark proudly describes her son and how he carried himself in his struggle. \u201cHe never complained,\u201d she says, noting that Harry loved to ride and how they rode together on a tandem, even after he\u2019d lost his vision. \u201cHarry loved to engage with people. He was the mayor at the Jimmy Fund Clinic at Dana-Farber. He knew everyone\u2014all the nurses, the lady at the cafeteria, the parking lot attendant. He loved life. And he went through a lot.\u201d She thinks about that when she\u2019s feeling weary on a tough climb.<\/p>\n

These days, Groark\u2019s riding life has evolved from therapeutic escape to aerobic bonding with friends. \u201cI will ride as many days as my body will let me,\u201d she says, calling the vibe on BG rides competitive with kindness. \u201cI realize how lucky I am that I can still do it. My legs may not work as great as they did 15 years ago, but they still work. I can still get up the hill.\u201d<\/p>\n

LAURA OLTON\"portrait<\/p>\n

Tony Luong<\/p>\n

Riding with Laura means \u201cthere is no dead air unless we\u2019re gasping up a hill,\u201d says fellow BG Lori Johnston. \u201cAsk her a question, and she\u2019ll give you a five-minute answer. But she is just sunshine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Wendy Fischman, who used to live down the street, agrees. \u201cLaura is the cheerleader for the group,\u201d she says. \u201cShe always reminds us how strong we are.\u201d<\/p>\n

But where does this optimism come from? It\u2019s a fair question to ask of someone who\u2019s gone through not one but two bouts of breast cancer. \u201cSomeone once told me that your windshield is so much bigger than your rearview mirror,\u201d she says. \u201cI just want to keep looking forward.\u201d<\/p>\n

The first episode began in 2005. Olton was 37, with two little kids, new to Wellesley, active and healthy, and working as the general counsel for a public utility. But she felt a lump up high on her chest near a bra strap. She got an ultrasound and a needle biopsy. Soon she was on the phone with a radiologist hearing the words \u201cbreast cancer.\u201d<\/p>\n

This particular group of women and what we\u2019ve created is really supportive.<\/p>\n

The weeks that followed were a blur. There were more tests, and at every turn the prognosis got worse. She wound up getting a mastectomy on the day of her daughter\u2019s kindergarten back-to-school night. After surgery, she went through radiation, a round of Herceptin, chemo, tamoxifen, the works.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wanted everything to seem normal,\u201d Olton admits. \u201cBut it definitely sucked. I got beaten up by the drugs and surgeries. I remember telling a friend, \u2018If you told me you\u2019d pay me a million dollars to walk to the end of my block, I\u2019d say keep your money.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Her husband, Matt, was into triathlons, and in 2006 he and a cousin rode the PMC. \u201cI remember going to a lunch stop with the kids and holding up signs,\u201d she recalls. \u201cIt was emotional. They were riding for me.\u201d She recalls thinking Matt and the other PMC riders were hardcore.<\/p>\n

In 2008, Olton was feeling healthy. She had a new job. Things were good. Then she felt something in her armpit. Her doctor told her to pop over to Mass General, and by the end of the day she\u2019d learned it was a recurrence. \u201cThe first time I was really scared,\u201d Olton says. \u201cThe second time, I was super pissed off. Like, this is a fucking joke, why are you testing me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Another tough year followed, with more radiation and chemo. A couple of years later, with her recovery going well, Matt suggested that she ride the PMC. She got a road bike, and Quigley, who lived nearby, helped her get rolling. And in 2012, she and Fischman rode a one-day route. Before long, the woman who had thought PMC riders looked hardcore was riding the full two-day event in a tight paceline. \u201cThis particular group of women and what we\u2019ve created is really supportive,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

Olton muses about the first time she watched her husband ride the PMC in 2006. \u201cIt\u2019s crazy to think about how it\u2019s changed. That first year he was scared and riding for me,\u201d she says. \u201cAnd now I ride for others.\u201d<\/p>\n

LISA HUGHES\"portrait<\/p>\n

Tony Luong<\/p>\n

It was 2011 when she registered for her first PMC. Lisa Hughes and her husband had just bought a home in Wellesley, and her next-door neighbor happened to be PMC founder Billy Starr. At a party she told Starr that she was interested in doing the event. \u201cHe asked if I realized that I\u2019d be riding for the rest of my life,\u201d Hughes says. \u201cI laughed it off\u2014but he was right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Related Story<\/p>\n

The longtime runner didn\u2019t even own a bike. She remembers hooking up with Quigley, who showed her the ropes and did early rides with her to get into cycling shape. But on a training ride two weeks before her first PMC, someone crashed in front of Hughes at a railroad crossing. Hughes launched over her handlebar and broke her arm. A doctor said she was a bit crazy, but after all the fundraising and riding she\u2019d done, she went for it. With her arm in a cast propped up on the bar, Hughes left her gearing in the little ring all day and finished the 84-mile ride.<\/p>\n

Hughes, a news anchor for the CBS affiliate in Boston, isn\u2019t a cancer survivor. But her life experiences have given her insight into loss and the power of the PMC community. Her husband, Mike Casey, is a 9\/11 widower. And she was working the finish line of the 2013 Boston Marathon when two pressure-cooker bombs ripped through the crowd, killing three and injuring hundreds. She has vivid memories of the bloody chaos and heroics that transpired on Boylston Street.<\/p>\n

When I got on the bike, I had this epiphany. I don\u2019t need to talk about this to feel better. I just need to ride with these women.<\/p>\n

A preternaturally upbeat person, Hughes admits that some anniversaries have been rough. \u201cI don\u2019t think I realized how much [the bombing] was affecting me until the first anniversary,\u201d she says. \u201cOnly then did I realize that I\u2019d been in a funk for a year. But the riding gave me purpose. It was great to be with these women. I could talk about it or not. I keep coming back to the word \u2018safe.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

In 2021, around the 20th anniversary of 9\/11, riding with the BGs proved therapeutic once again. \u201cThat was a particularly challenging year,\u201d Hughes says. \u201cBut when I got on the bike, I had this epiphany. I don\u2019t need to talk about this to feel better about what\u2019s happening. I just need to ride with these women. I don\u2019t have another group like that; I have a lot of friends, but we\u2019ve been together through a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n

After years of participating in the PMC and covering the event as a journalist, Hughes has crossed paths with many people whose lives have been touched by the ride. She describes a Dana-Farber researcher who studies leukemia and began riding at his uncle\u2019s encouragement; years later, that uncle was diagnosed with leukemia and was prescribed a drug the researcher had pushed through clinical trials.<\/p>\n

She talks about a mechanic at Landry\u2019s Bicycles, a big Boston-area chain, who wrenched at the PMC for years before his son was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Now he knows researchers who are investigating that kind of cancer.<\/p>\n

Hughes loves the vibe of the PMC weekend. \u201cThat feeling of people coming together with one cause,\u201d she says. \u201cIt\u2019s like this bubble of positivity. It feels physically so good.\u201d<\/p>\n

LORI JOHNSTON\"portrait<\/p>\n

Tony Luong<\/p>\n

Lori Johnston loves everything about riding\u2014especially with the BGs. \u201cSometimes I don\u2019t even think, I just ride,\u201d she says. \u201cIt\u2019s like a zone. We see beautiful things. We have crazy experiences. You see life differently than you would in a car.\u201d<\/p>\n

But Johnston almost quit a couple of years ago. The group kept getting faster, and she found it harder to keep up. As the oldest member of the group, Johnston\u2019s situation crossed a line. \u201cSuddenly it wasn\u2019t fun anymore,\u201d she admits. \u201cIt was really stressful\u2014I was riding at 95 percent all the time and it got exhausting. Finally, I was like I have to do something or I\u2019m going to stop.\u201d<\/p>\n

So in 2024, she bought a Trek Domane+ SLR 6 e-bike. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to have to do it,\u201d Johnston says. \u201cI just don\u2019t want to think about myself as an older person that needs an e-bike. But it has brought the fun back into biking. It\u2019s taken away the stress. You give up some stuff\u2014you can\u2019t measure how much exercise you\u2019re getting in the same way. But I don\u2019t care that much, especially when the alternative is staying home while your friends are out riding.\u201d<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know what men talk about when they ride, but we talk about our kids and parents maturing\u2014and we talk about food a lot.<\/p>\n

Last year she brought her Domane+ on the PMC for the first time. She\u2019d never taken it on such a long ride before, so she carried her charger in her bag. But she rode 109 miles on the first day and still had half a charge.<\/p>\n

Johnston started riding in earnest around 2010. She had purchased a mountain bike and taken a course on off-road riding. She even rode that mountain bike on her first PMC, in 2012. She loved it and began riding regularly with many of the women who would become BGs. \u201cWe all had kids that were in school,\u201d she recalls. \u201cWe just talked about what we were going through. I don\u2019t know what men talk about when they ride, but we talk about our kids and parents maturing\u2014and we talk about food a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnston has not had to deal with the kinds of challenges that many BGs have faced, but she has grappled with plenty of other life struggles. Like when her father died five years ago. \u201cIt was completely unexpected,\u201d she says, noting that he had been active with no medical issues until a week before he passed. \u201cIt turned my world around. All the BGs were super kind and helpful. I care very much about each of these women. And I think everybody would say that. It\u2019s a real gift. We are very fortunate to have it.\u201d<\/p>\n

But most days, it\u2019s just about the fun. About sharing adventures on peaceful country roads with friends. \u201cI occasionally ride alone,\u201d she says. \u201cBut it\u2019s not as much fun as doing it with friends. Especially if there is coffee involved, and muffins and scones.\u201d<\/p>\n

CARIE CAPOSSELA\"woman<\/p>\n

Tony Luong<\/p>\n

Carie Capossela is not low-key about her cancer experience. \u201cWe don\u2019t spend a lot of time talking about our breast cancer,\u201d she says. \u201cBut I like to talk about it, and the biking has been loaded with emotion.\u201d Capossela was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2001\u2014she went through multiple surgeries, chemo, radiation, tamoxifen, and eventually reconstruction. The experience of thinking she might die and then recovering has left a lasting mark. Early in her treatment, her oncologist suggested she ride the PMC. \u201cAnd I was like, \u2018Maybe I\u2019ll wait till my hair grows back,\u2019\u201d she recalls. \u201cI had it in my head that if I hit the five-year mark, I would do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I love the PMC because it is my weekend to honor my cancer.<\/p>\n

And in 2006 she did\u2014riding the event and cofounding a program at Dana-Farber that supports young women with breast cancer. As she readied for her 20th PMC, she still directed her fundraising to that cause. Back in the day, some of the BGs used to ride the PMC in jerseys that read \u201cCarie\u2019s Crew.\u201d Capossela admits she\u2019s sometimes nostalgic about her old squad, which was less serious about training and more serious about survivorship. \u201cRiding the PMC is hard for me sometimes,\u201d she says. \u201cThere\u2019s a lot going on. It\u2019s heavy. I cry. [But] I love the PMC because it is my weekend to honor my cancer.\u201d<\/p>\n

These days, Capossela isn\u2019t single-minded about cycling like she used to be. She moved from Wellesley to Cape Cod, which complicates joining BG rides. She spends more time strength training. And she\u2019s had some issues with an accelerated heart rate\u2014her cardiologist suspects it\u2019s linked to residual effects from her radiation treatment, she says. As the BGs got more focused on training, Capossela thought about hanging up her road bike. Fortunately, her friend (and local racing legend) Tim Johnson pushed her to buy an e-bike. \u201cI told Tim what I was struggling with,\u201d she recalls. \u201cAnd he goes, \u2018Listen, if you\u2019re not riding, you\u2019re not with your friends. You\u2019re not doing something you love to do.\u2019\u201d Capossela, who presently owns a Specialized S-Works Creo 2, is gratified she can still ride with the BGs. \u201cWe hold each other up. And P.S., I\u2019m leading a lot of the time because the ladies are smart. They\u2019re like, \u2018Put the people on the e-bikes in the front.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

WENDY FISCHMAN\"portrait<\/p>\n

Tony Luong<\/p>\n

\u201cHills never get easy,\u201d says Wendy Fischman, \u201cIt doesn\u2019t mean I\u2019m the fastest or the best. But I find the thrill of overcoming the challenge is so enjoyable that the challenge dissipates,\u201d explaining the flow state she enters on a tough ride. Unsurprisingly, Fischman typically is near the front on BG group rides when the terrain gets hilly.<\/p>\n

And pretty much nothing holds Fischman back. On Christmas Day in 2023, the lifelong skier crashed on an icy patch, tearing her ACL, MCL, and meniscus\u2014and breaking her tibia. But she remained fixated on riding the PMC the following summer.<\/p>\n

She had to wait four long months to exercise. Then she attacked rehab and was back on her bike by Memorial Day. Her doctors said riding was fine but warned her not to use clipless pedals, because the torque of unclipping could reinjure her knee. So she rode the 2024 PMC in sneakers. \u201cIt was humbling,\u201d she says. \u201cBut it gave me a challenge.\u201d<\/p>\n

The PMC is not competitive, but I think that sometimes men don\u2019t like it when an all-women group passes them.<\/p>\n

Fischman is reluctant to celebrate her athletic comeback too much. The responsibility she felt was so much bigger than that. As captain of the team that rides the PMC, she manages the group\u2019s interaction with a so-called Pedal Partner\u2014pediatric patients at Dana-Farber who are paired with PMC teams. Theirs is a 6-year-old named Abby who as an infant was diagnosed with Stage 4 neuroblastoma in her brain. Abby has been cancer-free since undergoing chemotherapy. \u201cOur team has really rallied behind her,\u201d Fischman says. \u201cShe\u2019s a total inspiration.\u201d<\/p>\n

Fischman was a rock for her friend Laura Olton when she had cancer before either of them were riders. Fischman took her to chemo appointments and learned how to give her steroid injections. She remembers Olton sliding on a wig and trudging over to her house for dinner and falling asleep on the couch. After Olton finished her treatments, Fischman threw a surprise party, giving out bags of chocolate chip cookies with a sticker that said, \u201cone tough cookie.\u201d<\/p>\n

Fischman started riding a few years after that. Her husband bought her a road bike for her 38th birthday and before long, it was her favorite way to exercise. This year marked Fischman\u2019s 14th PMC.<\/p>\n

Fischman says the chemistry of the group is unlike anything she\u2019s experienced. \u201cI think it\u2019s rare for women,\u201d she says. \u201cThere\u2019s no drama. It doesn\u2019t seem competitive\u2014everyone just wants what\u2019s best for everyone else. We couldn\u2019t look worse in the morning. And no one cares. I think that creates some kind of evenness.\u201d<\/p>\n

Fischman, not one to mince words, says she doesn\u2019t like when men say things like \u201chey, move over for the ladies,\u201d when they\u2019re hauling ass at the PMC. \u201cIt can be a little patronizing,\u201d she says. \u201cThe PMC is not competitive, but I think that sometimes men don\u2019t like it when an all-women group passes them. But you know what? Screw you, we\u2019re faster than you.\u201d<\/p>\n

NANCY WILLIAMSON\"portrait<\/p>\n

Tony Luong<\/p>\n

Nancy Williamson started riding about 15 years ago. Back then she was on a hybrid and thought 15 miles was a haul. But in 2011 she got a road bike and tackled her first PMC. Her father had died a few years earlier of colon cancer, and it seemed like a nice tribute.<\/p>\n

She\u2019s come a long way since then\u2014nearly all the BGs mention that she\u2019s among the fastest, strongest, most hardcore riders in the group. (Fischman calls Williamson her ride or die.) \u201cI like to go hard if I can,\u201d Williamson admits. \u201cI don\u2019t want to just tool around.\u201d<\/p>\n

Many BGs say Williamson is uncommonly kind. \u201cShe is the most supportive human being I think I\u2019ve ever met,\u201d Fischman says. Williamson is the friend who always has a handwritten note or a batch of brownies when someone gets surgery or needs a lift. She\u2019s also the group\u2019s chief navigator.<\/p>\n

My riding life saves me\u2014it gives me strength.<\/p>\n

The woman who has been there for everyone else and lives near the front of their paceline needed some support last fall. Williamson, who is in her 60s, became the fourth BG to receive a breast cancer diagnosis. \u201cI\u2019ve been healthy my whole life,\u201d she says. \u201cBut I do mammograms religiously and it came up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Williamson describes her cancer journey as if she\u2019s lucky. She talks about how she\u2019s fortunate that it\u2019s Stage 1 and how her chemo is easier than other peoples\u2019 and how she has the most supportive friends and how she\u2019s been able to ride through the ordeal. \u201cMy riding life saves me\u2014it gives me strength,\u201d she says, acknowledging that radiation has made her feel a bit fatigued. \u201cBut even if I\u2019m tired, the camaraderie and being outside exercising gives me mental strength to get through this.\u201d<\/p>\n

It\u2019s clear that Williamson loves cycling. \u201cIt\u2019s the trifecta of being outside, the exercise, and the companionship,\u201d she says. \u201cIt\u2019s a gift. I started this later in life and I\u2019ve gotten better and faster over the years. And I love how I can go out with my friends and talk through anything. It\u2019s like free therapy.\u201d <\/p>\n

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