I think it's time for an update to the world about how Illini 4000 has been so far! For those of you who have been keeping up with my trip so far, you know that I have the team position of "journalling" - but I just call myself the blogger. So those beautiful homepage posts labelled "Day _" are all mine, written daily with love. However, sometimes it's very hard writing these blogs, not only because I tend to be tired at the end of a day of riding my bicycle, but also because it is my responsibility to fairly represent the team's overall experience without discussing blog-inappropriate situations or having a one-sided point-of-view. So... here's a blog written by Grace, from the heart.A lot has changed since the last blog post. My top speed has increased from 43 to 46 mph; I have ridden my bicycle in 7 states (Illinois is state #7!); I have faced headwinds with the help of a paceline - something I could never have done without this fabulous team. But that's not all... something else has changed.I'll start with my basic I4K story, the one I tell people when they ask about why I'm riding across the country. But this will be more detailed. So I was never really too into cycling. Fun fact: I didn't even ride my bike without training wheels until I was 10 years old. But on my first day of college, quad day, I walked by the I4K booth with my campus bike, curious about the cool people at the table. I heard that they were biking across the country, and asked what for. When I heard it was cancer, I may have been a bit disappointed because it had not yet affected my life, but I added biking across the country to my bucket list of cool things to accomplish in college. Fast forward to November of that year. My parents came to visit my brother and I, bringing bad news. My mom had been diagnosed with primary bone non-Hodgkin's lymphoma of the jaw. She went through 6 rounds of chemo over the course of 4 months. During this time, I saw how the chemicals pumped into her body destroyed her. Chemo is poison, yet a necessary evil: she has now been in remission for approximately one year. She is a survivor and an inspiration.Last fall, my best friend's dad was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. We were all devastated. When I found out how deadly pancreatic cancer is, I didn't want to know any more. All I wanted to do was come beside my friend and support her in this very hard time. Back to Illini 4000... I had found motivation, so now I learned more about the organization and realized this was what I was being called to do.What changed was on June 3rd. My friend's dad passed away after a 10-month battle with pancreatic cancer. I saw how cancer had ravaged his body and taken so much from him. It took a toll on his family, yet ultimately, I believe the struggle brought them all closer to each other and to God. For the past week and a half, I've been processing this loss and wondering how to present it on a blog, but there really is no good way to explain how much it means to me. I was riding for my mom and for my friend's dad, but there is no difference in life or death. The people we ride for range from survivors to fighters to those in heaven. And that was the most important step in processing the loss: acknowledging that there is a heavenly hope for those who love God. I have full confidence in where my friend's dad is currently and that is what brings me peace of heart.I ride for everyone else who has been affected by cancer too: for the pastor whose wife died of bone cancer in her jaw; for the man whose fight with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma was much like that of my mom's; for my grandmother's niece who died at age 5; and for many, many more people. These people are everywhere: we see them at work, at school, and at church. We love them, and we remember them. I ride for all of them. And I will continue to wear my remembrance bracelets and purple pancreatic cancer ribbon until they fall off. It is all because of love.