Embarrassing Unnecessary Handcycle
Donation protected
I hereby confess that I want to raise $5,000 for a gleaming new state-of-the-art Invacare Top End Force RX racing handcycle, with disk brakes, high pressure clincher tires, and SRAM components offering 30 gears and a hollow pin chain.
Please ignore this request. It’s an embarrassment, a pathetic grasp at a youth that has long since slipped through my fingers. I’ve really debased myself this time. My dream is to get the latest racing equipment so that I can compete with the big dogs. I’ve been in a wheelchair for twenty years since I was hit by a car while bicycling, and my old reliable handcycle bit the dust last summer when it cracked in two during a triathlon and dumped me on the pavement at 17 mph.
But don’t feel sorry for me. I’m approaching 64 years of age. What do I need the latest racing cycle for? What do I have left to prove? It will only be humiliating when I still can’t keep up with the younger, stronger, faster riders. It’s just a fantasy, and I’m not deserving of your charitable intentions.
It is the height of immaturity for me to point out that I am a serious competitor. I won the U.S. Paralympics swimming trials in 2012 in my breast stroke classification. I’ve competed in many triathlons, including an ironman length in 2011. And I’ve placed among the top wheeled finishers in several major marathons. My grown children just laugh at me for tooting my own horn. I’m an over-the-hill minister, for God’s sake. Why don’t I act like it? Well, at least I’m honest. I tell you truthfully I’m not worthy of your pity.
It’s not like I’m poor, either. I don’t need your help. I’m set for retirement – which I should be enjoying in my rocking chair, not pursuing racing triumphs – and probably won’t live very much longer, what with my risky lifestyle, so as long as my wife doesn’t find out, I could always dip into my retirement savings to pay for this highly superfluous handcycle.
My wife thinks I’m an old fool, and she’s right. I’ll probably only get run over by a car again. Or tear my rotator cuff like I did two years ago. Or shoot my eye out. I’m shameless to even ask. I’d be so embarrassed if anyone takes this seriously.
Even if you contribute, which I don’t recommend, you won’t get anything for your trouble. You can’t deduct it. I’m not a non-profit. You’ll only be dragging yourself down to my level. You’re falling for a transparent scam. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.
The only noble thing about this whole project is that if I “earn” more than the $5,000 I’m seeking, I’ll donate the surplus to the Challenged Athletes Foundation, which distributes adaptive sporting equipment to legitimately deserving people with disabilities. Unlike myself.
So please ignore this Go Fund Me request. I’m sorry you had to read it.
Please ignore this request. It’s an embarrassment, a pathetic grasp at a youth that has long since slipped through my fingers. I’ve really debased myself this time. My dream is to get the latest racing equipment so that I can compete with the big dogs. I’ve been in a wheelchair for twenty years since I was hit by a car while bicycling, and my old reliable handcycle bit the dust last summer when it cracked in two during a triathlon and dumped me on the pavement at 17 mph.
But don’t feel sorry for me. I’m approaching 64 years of age. What do I need the latest racing cycle for? What do I have left to prove? It will only be humiliating when I still can’t keep up with the younger, stronger, faster riders. It’s just a fantasy, and I’m not deserving of your charitable intentions.
It is the height of immaturity for me to point out that I am a serious competitor. I won the U.S. Paralympics swimming trials in 2012 in my breast stroke classification. I’ve competed in many triathlons, including an ironman length in 2011. And I’ve placed among the top wheeled finishers in several major marathons. My grown children just laugh at me for tooting my own horn. I’m an over-the-hill minister, for God’s sake. Why don’t I act like it? Well, at least I’m honest. I tell you truthfully I’m not worthy of your pity.
It’s not like I’m poor, either. I don’t need your help. I’m set for retirement – which I should be enjoying in my rocking chair, not pursuing racing triumphs – and probably won’t live very much longer, what with my risky lifestyle, so as long as my wife doesn’t find out, I could always dip into my retirement savings to pay for this highly superfluous handcycle.
My wife thinks I’m an old fool, and she’s right. I’ll probably only get run over by a car again. Or tear my rotator cuff like I did two years ago. Or shoot my eye out. I’m shameless to even ask. I’d be so embarrassed if anyone takes this seriously.
Even if you contribute, which I don’t recommend, you won’t get anything for your trouble. You can’t deduct it. I’m not a non-profit. You’ll only be dragging yourself down to my level. You’re falling for a transparent scam. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.
The only noble thing about this whole project is that if I “earn” more than the $5,000 I’m seeking, I’ll donate the surplus to the Challenged Athletes Foundation, which distributes adaptive sporting equipment to legitimately deserving people with disabilities. Unlike myself.
So please ignore this Go Fund Me request. I’m sorry you had to read it.
Organizer
Bob Molsberry
Organizer
Iowa City, IA
