I'm not sure if I mentioned this before on this blog, but my dear old dad followed in my footsteps/tire tracks and rode his bike across the country this summer. I did this trip eight years ago when I was 17, and to say the least, it was the experience of a lifetime. The couple that led the group of kids have been continuing the cross country trend every two years or so, and this summer, Dad decided to take advantage of his spare time in retirement and hit the road.

Today was the group's last day of biking — the last point being the coast of Maine and dipping their tires in the Atlantic. One of the riders has family in New Hampshire, and the plan was for several of them to join him on riding the last leg today.

Unfortunately, Jon's son (known as Paul) was struck and killed by a logging truck earlier this morning.

[Side note: the news report is somewhat inaccurate. 1) Paul apparently didn't fall off prior to getting hit, e.g. was NOT lying in the middle of the road, according to witnesses at the scene, and 2) they were riding from Washington, not California.]

Dad told me Paul was riding along the road when the shoulder abruptly ended. The road itself curved to the left on a slight uphill, and I guess there just wasn't enough room for the two of them. He was killed instantly and didn't suffer any pain.

It's times like these that make me realize how lucky I've been. The only time that my bike has landed me in the hospital was my own fault and didn't include a car; although Dad has been unfortunate enough to actually hit TWO cars (not the other way around — he ran into them. One was parked, and I think the other one was going so slowly that he ran up the trunk or something.) But at the same time, it really hits home. Bicycling is a dangerous sport. When it comes to sharing the road, we (as much as many of us hate to admit it) MUST respect cars, even in the cases when they're supposed to yield to us. In any moving car versus bike accident, the car will win. Always.

As much as I rant about dumb people who don't respect traffic laws and ride two/three abreast, I do it because of situations like this. It pisses me off not only because it's rude to the few drivers that do give us a wide berth when passing, but it tends to aggravate the anti-biker ones and make them despise cyclists even more, to the point of driving dangerously around us.

Paul, who wasn't doing anything wrong or illegal, lost his life because of a careless logging truck driver, who was most likely driving too fast for the road. That's the sad reality — the ones who do obey the law and ride where they're supposed to end up hurt or dead.

Another recent bike accident actually occurred here in D.C. A girl was commuting to work and was hit by a garbage truck. She was riding IN a bike lane, and the truck turned in front of her and she was trapped underneath. Again, she was doing nothing wrong, obeying the law, etc., and lost.

That being said… to anyone who reads this and bikes: be careful. Please.

I miss this guy.

Hmm… a post that's not about biking, horses, or random stuff on Craigslist!

Lately I've been feeling really frustrated… mentally/socially/work-wise/etc. I feel like my life has stalled, and I'm going nowhere. My motto is, "Do what's right, not what's easy." In essence, I try my damnedest to be a good person. It seems that whatever I do, it's never enough, and I end up disappointed.

I'm not trying to be negative, but I'm really frustrated. I try to reach out to help and make other peoples' lives better. Whether it be holding the elevator door so the elderly woman shuffling toward it won't have to wait 10 minutes for it to return, or just giving up my entire weekend to sit out in the sun and volunteer at a horse event… I don't mind. If I see trash on the ground, I pick it up and throw it out. Simple stuff like that. I enjoy feeling like I've made a difference somewhere, somehow.

"Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible." -Dalai Lama

But at the same time, I'm disheartened because when I try to reach out and be friendly to someone/make new friends, I get nothing in return. No acknowledgment, no consideration, merely a brushoff because really, who needs to be friends with a slightly dorky (albeit caring and genuine) person? I'm a nice person, but I will finish last. (Probably because I was too busy helping everyone else who's fallen down, needed their photo taken at the last mile marker, etc. ) Then I wonder where everyone went, and why I wasn't invited.

I want to be successful, I want good things to happen to me, I want to be happy.

I'm just trying to be a better person. My name is Kendall.

*Yes, I borrow that phrase from Earl.

After spending most of my Saturday morning/afternoon scrubbing the bathroom (since my male roommates seem to be allergic to Comet and scrub brushes… "Comet, it makes your mouth turn green… Comet, it tastes like Listerine…"), I headed over to the Tidal Basin with my roommate Eileen to participate in the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America Take Steps walk. The theme of the walk was "Make Noise!" — to not only help raise funds for research, but raise awareness for these little-known diseases.

Doing the walk was pretty inspiring. There were a ton of participants… basically every age, gender, species (yes, dogs were included) walked the two miles around the Basin. What was so inspiring was seeing all the family members and friends of those who were supporting a family member or friend with Crohn's/colitis. Most had formed teams, and had names such as "Stolen Colon," "The Crohn Rangers," "No Guts, but all the Glory," etc.

One of the more memorable teams was "Walt's Rockets." Their leader is Walt, who is seven years old and has Crohn's. Walt was one of the honored heroes at the walk — his team had 38 people walking, and so far they've raised $2,481. He said he picked rockets as his team symbol because rockets are fast, and he wants to find a cure fast. (Walt's team last year was "Walt's Cheetahs.")

I don't blame Walt for wanting to find a cure quickly. Crohn's is a devastating disease, and having seen the effects it's had on my own sister, I would do anything to get rid of it. To see Walt, who is only seven (and obviously has had Crohn's for over a year) bear this burden really struck a chord. It's not fair to him. There's no reason why he should have to deal with the countless blood tests, trips to the doctor, and explaining to his friends why he has to use the bathroom frequently. But unfortunately, it's a reality for him and 1.4 million other people.

Crohn's isn't easy to explain to people, and it's certainly not for the squeamish when divulging its details. For that reason, I respected my sister's wishes and kept my sister's condition quiet throughout grade school. She didn't want everyone to know WHY her face was all puffy from the super high doses of prednisone, why she had to miss summer camp because she was in the hospital… I felt it was the least I could do. Not to say that I was the best sister in the world and understood why she could be happy one day and so horrifically cranky the next… because I really didn't get it. Despite the change in diet and the seemingly thousands of pills she had to take every day, life was a rollercoaster of emotions and frustration for all of us.

Looking back, I feel really selfish. I can't sufficiently say I understand what people with Crohn's are going through, because I don't. I'm fortunate enough to not have this disease, and I will never know what it's like. But I feel like could have been more supportive in those early years. If there's one thing I truly regret, it's not being there for her enough (or, in some cases, leaving her alone) for the times when she needed it the most.

And for kids like Walt, I sure hope his friends are mature enough to realize that he needs their support, even if it's just acknowledging that even though he's a little different from them on the inside, he's still a great person on the outside.

That being said… Walt's team is looking to raise $3,000, and they're still a little over $500 short of their goal. It's not too late to donate, so please consider doing so.

After Thursday's not-so-conducive-to-back-comfort ride, I realized part of my stiff back and tiredness problems lie with my bed. (Or would that be IN my bed?) I mean, not that I'm lonely or anything (Sparkey the stuffed dog takes up the other half very well), but I swear I'm not getting enough quality sleep… and thus need more quantity to make up for it.

Quick hop on over to Consumer Reports reveals no ratings (which makes sense - ratings would depend on personal preference and all), but the "Do you need a new mattress?" section reaffirmed my decision that my existing slab of IKEA foam was not working out:

• You wake up tired or achy. - check.
• You tend to sleep better at hotels than at home. - to think about it, yes! I do sleep way better in hotels, and it's not just the mints on the pillows at night, either.
• Your mattress looks saggy or lumpy. - No, but I did buy it used off Craigslist. I know, I'm cheap.

New mattress it is, then!

Any excuse to go to IKEA (a.k.a. the holy land) is a good one, so I drove up to College Park this morning and steeled myself for the weekend crowds. In reality, it wasn't too bad, but I swear, they need to have leash laws for kids. Despite my research and testing of mattresses, none really stood out. Maybe it's me, but they all seemed rock hard and not comfortable at all. Plus, their rating system for firmness seemed really weird - the softest one, to me, was rated as "firm." However, it was $800, and if I'm going to spend that much on a bed, it better make itself and change its own sheets. (Kidding.)

So, no luck at IKEA. The trip wasn't a huge bust, though - I picked up some "food savers" (e.g., Rubbermaid containers), and of course, a bar of the best chocolate in the WORLD!

Delicious.