I love to read blogs. Well, let me qualify that. I love to read good blogs. I'm hooked on several and I check in most days to catch up and be entertained.
I'm mostly drawn to well crafted pieces, sarcastic or cutting humor and laugh out loud stories about life. Oh yeah, I'm also a junkie for great photography coupled with great writing.
Well, I'm addicted to reading Fat Cyclist. "Fatty" is a self decprecating cyclist who lives and rides in Utah. In an effort to lose weight (skinny = fast), he posted his weight every day. Weight loss through humiliation. I like it.
I've been lurking on his site for about a year. I've been secretly coveting the Twin Six cycling jersey he had designed to help his wife's battle with breast cancer. For a long time, his wife Susan, has been way ahead of her cancer. Fatty has been posting his usual insightful, witty posts and all is good.
Then came the post from last week. I read it and couldn't get over what it said. I read it and cried. A lot. I read all of the comments, which at the time numbered in the hundreds. I've checked in every day since. I even stopped lurking and actually commented. A lot of good things are happening for Fatty and Susan. They're being very strong and battling this thing every day. With news as dire as they got last week, they're going through treatment and looking for a miracle. Or maybe that's what I'm looking for.