In mid-November, while the rest of us are busy prepping pies and stuffing turkeys, local cyclists will take off with baskets and backpacks to search the city’s grocery stores for boxes of oatmeal, jars of peanut butter, cans of beans, and so on.

Now in its ninth year, Cranksgiving has become an annual tradition—and competition—that combines a bike race, scavenger hunt, and food drive, one that is now as synonymous with Thanksgiving in Baltimore as sauerkraut. For cyclists, at least.

“It’s an event filled with joy,” says Jed Weeks, interim executive director and policy director of Bikemore, the local nonprofit cycling advocacy group that hosts the event. “We found a way that Bikemore can give back to the community in a time of need and elevate other nonprofits in the city…It’s really a win-win.”

In 1999, the tradition began in New York City, with one generous bike messenger, Antonio Rodriges, who was in search of a unique way to give back to his community. He designed the event to resemble “alley cat races,” or unsanctioned bike races meant to mimic a messenger’s intense, fast-paced daily routine, and it took off.

Before long, Cranksgiving went nationwide, and in 2015, Baltimore caught on when Bikemore started its own competition, with gathered goods supporting two local food insecurity nonprofits, Moveable Feast and the Franciscan Center.

To date, there have been close to 500 participants and more than $5,000 worth of donations. But this is no ordinary food drive. With a list of groceries and locations, small teams depart from Charm City Meadworks and hit various designated stores throughout the city, with only two hours allotted for travel or shopping.

At the end of the race, donations are divided into bins, points are tallied based on their speed and haul, and awards are handed out during an after-party. Over the years, participants have established friendly rivalries and some don holiday-themed costumes aboard festively decorated bikes.

This month, Cranksgiving will take place on Saturday, Nov. 18, starting at 1 p.m. Registration is free, beyond at least $10 for groceries, encouraging ample participation. And in the years to come, Weeks hopes that the organization can entice even more participants, perhaps through the inclusion of e-scooters and other mobility devices, in an effort to accommodate those without bike access.

“It’s not just for bike messengers and roadie cyclists,” he says, as new bikers, kids, and families from across the city have participated in this one-of-a-kind ride. “It balances the competition spirit with pure fun. I don’t know how to describe it; it just feels very Baltimore.”

Having worked for almost a nearly in the healthcare system, Heather Chilcot knows the importance of taking care of your body. Which is why after months of research she opened Core Cycle Studios in Lutherville-Timonium to share the gift of health through fitness classes. We talked to Chilcot about her inspiration, benefits of cycling, and her favorite fitness trends.

What is Core Cycle Studios and where did you get your inspiration?
It’s a boutique fitness studio in its simplest form. I would say right now we’re very lucky that we’re the only dedicated cycle, barre, yoga, and HIIT studio in the area. As far as inspiration, I just love fitness and the feeling of working out. Being a mom and a role model, I wanted to create that healthy balance where you can be a business woman and you can also live this very healthy balanced lifestyle. I wanted to not just focus on how many times you work out a day, but also on nutrition, good relationships, and building a beautiful community.

What are the benefits of Core Cycle Studios?
The benefits of cycling are that it’s low impact and it’s an extremely high calorie burn. It also definitely increases your overall endurance. I used to run and do all of those different aerobic step and body classes. But, over time, those types of activities are just challenging on your joints. Another benefit I think is the ability to detach and unplug, which makes it more of spiritual process than a workout.

What are some tips for people just starting out their fitness journey?
People get overwhelmed with what you could or should look like. My suggestion is to just start moving. Find a buddy. If you find a buddy and you just start out to walking and getting some fresh air, that’s great. You will want to be creative in what you do and keep trying new things so that you don’t get bored. And then make sure to also track your progress. If we’re not tracking that progress, then it can very easily derail us from our goals.

How is a Core Cycle Studio class different from your typical cycling class at other studios?
We are all different shapes, sizes, genders, and ages. We try our best to customize our workouts for each person to track their performance and assist them in hitting their goals. There is an energy in our studio and you can feel it no matter what class you are taking.

What would you tell someone who is hesitant about taking a Core Cycle Studios class?
Every one of our classes is designed by incredible instructors to allow for modifications, changes, and enhancements, so whether you’re looking for something with less intensity or with more intensity, we can help you feel comfortable.

What is your favorite fitness trend currently?
I love interval training. I think we are seeing a rise in classes that focus on that style of training. It doesn’t plateau the body, and there is a lot of variety in it so you won’t get bored.

If you weren’t a fitness instructor what would you be?
I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. If I wasn’t doing that, I think I would find ways to give back to the community.

When Bob Wagner was a kid, he’d jump on his dad’s Schwinn bike in his 1970s tube socks, short shorts, and sneakers and take off by himself all day. “I was the youngest of three,” Wagner recalls. “We lived in Towson, and by the time I came around, Mom had her hands full. She’d say, ‘Be home for dinner.’ Later, she’d ask what I did, and I’d tell her, ‘I went to Pennsylvania. I ate a sandwich and then rode back.’ Mom would be like, ‘Great.’”

When Wagner, a picture framer by trade who majored in folklore and does not own a cell phone, started the long-distance Rando Rambles bicycling series a decade ago, the now 53-year-old wanted to re-experience that childhood feeling of adventure. (Rando is shorthand for randonneuring, a form of all-day, non-competitive bicycling from city to city popular in Europe.) He dubbed the first “ramble,” a 97-mile, down-and-back ride to the Washington Monument in the nation’s capital, the “Monument to Monument” ride, and it unexpectedly has become a must-do event—if you can call it an event—for local cyclists. There are no entry forms, no fees, no support vehicles, no commemorative T-shirts or rules. Wagner simply posts the date on his WordPress blog with the route, a surprisingly scenic run on quiet roads through Anne Arundel, Howard, and Prince George’s counties, and photos from previous years.

The annual jaunt attracts as many as 100 cyclists—college students, amateur racers, and Medicare-eligible participants—in sunny years and as a few as a half-dozen when forecasts call for showers. For the 10th anniversary Monument to Monument ride this year, about 40 riders met on the cobblestones of Mt. Vernon in June, departing for D.C. at 8:30 a.m. Inevitably breaking into smaller groups by the time they twirled around the towering obelisk on The Mall, most grabbed lunch at Union Station—some got a beer with Wagner at a nearby Irish bar—before returning to Baltimore. For about half, the mileage was no great feat; for others, more than a few inspired by Wagner’s bike blog, it was their first century ride.

Vinny DeMarco, the state’s irrepressible grassroots lobbyist, smiled nearly the whole way, occasionally singing verses of “Volare”—Dean Martin’s Italian-English hit (“To Fly”)—which he calls the official song of the M2M.

All apparently made it home for dinner.

“It’s a weird shift in perspective that takes place,” says Lars Peterson, a mechanic at Race Pace Bicycles. “Suddenly D.C., which you’re used to being snarled in traffic trying to get to, becomes a place you can reach on your bike.”

Other Rando Rambles over the years have included trips to Havre de Grace, Gettysburg, and Chesapeake Beach. Most have particular, sometimes unique, destinations in mind. The “Pancake Intercept” ride, which rolls through the farms and woods of Carroll County, just happens to include a rest stop at an all-you-can-eat breakfast at a Union Bridge firehouse.

When he started the Rambles, Wagner, who sets a moderate pace and keeps an eye out for those in the back of the pack, says he just wanted to create personal challenges. In the early years, he biked up to 10,000 miles a year, meticulously documenting the best off-the-main-thoroughfare routes. (That’s more annual mileage than he puts on his 1964 Chevy station wagon, which remains in his Hampden garage most of the week while he bike commutes to work in Timonium.)

And if no one came to his party, that was fine. If a hundred came, that was fine, too. He was excited either way. “Usually at least two or three people always showed up,” he laughs. “The time commitment is kind of crazy. You have to say to anyone who loves you, ‘I’m going to be gone all day long. I may be even be in some danger today.’ There is the chance you could fall, get in a collision, suffer dehydration, or have a mechanical breakdown. Or get lost. But it’s that feeling—‘I don’t know’—that I’m after. Can I do it? ‘I don’t know.’ What will the roads look like today? ‘I don’t know.’ Will it be dark when I get back? ‘I don’t know.’”

Welcome to “Life Lines,” a new column on aging gracefully by writer Laura Black.

The Eastern Shore bike shop was jam-packed with merchandise. I combed through mazes of racing bikes, mountain bikes, road bikes and even bicycles-built-for two. But, I couldn’t find what I was looking for. Before too long, a pony-tailed salesman with tattoo-covered biceps greeted me and asked, “Can I help you?”

And, in the same voice I used the first time I asked a male drugstore clerk for a box of tampons, I muttered, “Do you have any adult tricycles?”

To his credit, he didn’t laugh, “Give me a minute, I think there’s one in the back.” And, before I had time to change my mind, he came out with a red three-wheeler. It looked like an adult-sized version of the ones I bought my kids when they were toddlers—minus those multi-colored plastic strips hanging off the handlebars.

“Let’s take it out to the parking lot so you can give it a try.”

Hoping no one else was watching, I climbed upon the seat and pedaled. I hated it. It was heavy and unwieldy—not an acceptable replacement for my two-wheeled Schwinn. I love that bike, with its fat tires, cushy seat, and clunky wire basket that holds my water bottle, lock, and purse. But I’ve been afraid to ride it since my fall last summer.

My husband and I were riding our bikes to breakfast. As we approached the restaurant, he took a sharp right turn, over the curb and into the parking lot. I tried to follow. But, the next thing I knew, I was splayed on the ground as awkward as a lineman in a tutu.

Passersby offered help, and I declined with embarrassment. Charles lifted the bike off my chest, and we assessed the damage: bruises and blood, but nothing gushy nor stitch-worthy. (Though later, my left knee swelled, seemingly with humiliation, and I had to have it drained.)

Charles helped me to my feet and after, “You okay?” He said, “Honey, your bike was parallel to the curb, that’s why you fell. You should have turned the wheel and crossed it at a right angle.” I thought, “How was I supposed to know?” And in that moment, my confidence as a cyclist collapsed. I walked the bike home and buried it in the back of our storage closet. I have not touched it for over a year—and, I miss it.

Unless I count walking, biking was my only outdoor activity. (I never mastered tennis, diving, hiking, surfing, skiing, to name a few alternatives.) At the beach, I would ride up and down Coastal Highway, exploring bayside and oceanfront communities. I’d cycle south to the Boardwalk and north to downtown Bethany. On a trip to Wyoming, Charles, my daughter, and I pulled over for a herd of buffalo as we biked the mountain trails. And, in Vancouver, I rode with my sister and our daughters around the Seawall Trail in Stanley Park.

Biking has allowed me to see myself as active. Now, since the fall, I am afraid to ride—and, afraid not to. A tricycle, with its two back wheels for balance, was a last-ditch attempt to resurrect my self-image.

When I’m honest with myself, I must admit that the problem is bigger than bicycling. Like another wrinkle between my brows, anxiety has marred my self-assurance: I hesitate before driving my rental car on I-95 from Miami to Delray Beach. I hang my trifocals from my blouse before stepping on steep escalators. And, I go out of my way to avoid walking in ice and snow.

I concede apprehension—but, fear capitulation. Isn’t giving up, giving in? I do not want to succumb to self-imposed limitations. I have little control over the insidious losses that come with aging—but, I can control how I handle them. I can choose fight over flight.

When I return from the tricycle fiasco, I drag my Schwinn out of the storage closet, pump air into its tires and toss my stuff into the basket. Grabbing the black rubber handlebars, I maneuver it into the elevator and out to the street. Then, I buckle the strap of my helmet under my chin and straddle the seat. Inhaling courage, exhaling fear—I pedal north on Coastal Highway. I am free. Turns out, it’s just like riding a bike.

Although the last few weeks have doused Charm City with rain, we’re headed into the last full month of summer. Despite the humid temperatures, August is the perfect time to experience our city through fitness. We rounded up some of our favorite ways to get out there to enjoy the sunshine while getting fit—check out our short list of fitness classes, al fresco events, and other outdoor opportunities below:

Studio Classes

Waterfront Wellness
Waterfront Partnership has teamed up with Medifast to offer complimentary waterfront workouts this summer and they are still happening every weekend this month. On Saturdays, stretch and sweat with yoga by Brick Bodies and boot camp by XPF and Dance2Fitness. On Sundays, join for vinyasa and/or family yoga with Yogaworks as well as a beginners run with Charm City Run.

BeachFit at Pendry Pool
Take your practice poolside with BeachFit’s weekly yoga sessions at the Sagamore Pendry Baltimore pool. Right in the heart of Fells Point, the boutique hotel is the ideal spot to warrior on the water Wednesdays at 7 a.m. and Saturdays at 8 a.m.

M. Power on Natty Boh Rooftop
While the sun is shining and Mr. Boh is watching over you, join M. Power for their signature rooftop yoga flow. They are hosting a special sunset yoga flow with Mezcal (need we say more) on August 17 at 7 p.m.

FloYo at Four Seasons
Our Four Seasons Baltimore is bringing standup paddle-board yoga to the Hotel’s outdoor infinity pool, with the city’s Inner Harbor as its picturesque backdrop! Get on the SUP boards at the special pool-edition of FloYo on August 18.

Outside of the Box

Market Yoga with the Baltimore Museum of Industry
On August 18, stretch your muscles before shopping for your greens at the BMI’s Farmers Market yoga class on their waterfront terrace.

Yoga in the Garden with The Preservation Society of Fell’s Point
Start your Sunday off with local yoga instructor Emily Fleming for yoga in the garden at The Preservation Society of Fell’s Point on August 19!

Race Pace at AVAM
Join Race Pace Bicycles for their annual Tours de Federal Hill bike ride. This free race starts on August 30 at 6:30 p.m. at Race Pace before AVAM’s Flicks on the Hill event August 30.

Marissa Walsh Yoga at Tiki Barge
Join Marissa for her summertime practice under the shadow of the Domino Sugars sign on Tuesday, August 21. All levels of yoga are welcome as there will be many options and modifications.

Run Wild

Of course, summer is also the perfect time to take your runs, walks and bike rides outside! Check out our past roundup of favorite routes in and around Baltimore here.

Looking for a good workout with an even better playlist? Then you might want to head over to REV Cycle Studio for one of Sean Sanders’ classes. This high energy instructor will make you work hard while trying to restrain your body from all out dancing in his fun 45 minute class offered at both the Brewers Hill and Locust point locations. We caught up with Sanders to discuss his time at REV, how he creates his dynamite playlists, and what he would be doing if he wasn’t a spin instructor.

When do you start teaching spin and how did you get involved with REV?
I’m originally from Knoxville, TN, and I moved here about four years ago, and decided to do an internship with FX Studios, which is how I met the Rick who is a co-owner of REV and it just kind of went from there. I started working at the front desk of the studio in Locust Point, but I have always been very passionate about fitness. I had been working there close to a year and I only took maybe three classes, just because I didn’t feel like spin was for me. But I saw how it impacted a lot of different people and our customers daily and that made me want to be part of it. After that, I decided to become an instructor. 

How has spin has impacted your life?  
Physically, I feel that I have gotten a lot stronger, faster, and my endurance has definitely gone up. I’ve always been a people person, but ever since I started spin the way I talk to others has changed and I feel like I am more engaging. It’s also impacted me by being very rewarding. I love that I’m helping people. I had a lady come up to me the other day and tell me about all the weight she lost taking the class and it made me feel good. The classes can also benefit your mental health by taking 45 minutes to really focus on yourself. 

How many classes do you teach a week?
I teach 8-10 classes a week and I teach at both studios. I was actually the first full-time instructor at REV.

What do you think makes REV stand out from other gyms?
Oh man, a lot! It’s the way we impact the community. There is always an outreach program and charity rides for people in need. It’s also very personal. If it’s your birthday, we acknowledge that and might put something on your bike.

How do you go about picking music for your classes?
I have to admit, it’s a lot of work. I work with Soundcloud and Spotify to put it into a 45-minute mix. There are some instructors that play strictly hip-hip or some that just play pop. I feel like I’m in between. Sometime I’ll go from an EDM song to a hip-hop song to rock and roll. 

What’s your favorite song to spin to?
It’s probably ‘Take It All Back’ by Judah and the Lion. It’s a mix between country and alternative and then it picks up at the end. It’s just one of those songs I had on my very first playlist I ever made and I still play and see everyone go nuts.

What would you say is your favorite fitness trend?
I’m currently training for an Ironman triathlon on May 20. So I’d have to say racing.

If you were not a fitness instructor what would you be?
Honestly, it probably would be something to do with fitness, like personal training. I am also a year away from my degree in information systems, so maybe even doing something with cyber security.

What would you tell people that haven’t been to REV before, that might be a little intimidated to take a class? 
I would tell them not to be scared. It can be intimidating to try something new. I have clients that never want to sit in the front row because they feel like people are looking at them or judging them if they aren’t doing the right thing. I always tell my clients the same thing and that is to do what you can. The minute you step through the door, it’s a judgement-free zone. 

Bay Watch 

Spring has brought with it a flurry of good news about the bay. First, using sonar technology, scientists from the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center found that the Choptank River has more river herring in it than previously suspected. Then, the Maryland Department of Natural Resources found that reproductively viable female crabs are at their most plentiful since 1990 and that the amount of underwater grass in Maryland’s portion of the bay reached a record high of 59,277 acres in 2016. Furthermore, in late April, the Chesapeake Bay Foundation seeded 3 million baby oysters in the Patapsco River, hoping to return oyster shoals to the urban waterway. All of these rehabilitative milestones indicate that federally overseen pollution control programs are stabilizing the bay after decades of environmental decline. And though it briefly looked like funding for those measures would be threatened by the Trump administration’s proposed EPA budget cuts, Congress decided to maintain program funding for the coming fiscal year. 

Following such a streak, the University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science issued a report this week awarding the bay one of its highest-ever health grades. Though on its face an unimpressive C, the grade represents drastic improvement since the University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science began evaluating the bay in 1986 and a 1-point improvement over last year’s score. As with the Chesapeake Bay Foundation scorecard—another important third-party bay evaluation—the University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science grades the bay in several categories and then aggregates those scores into an overall mark. 

“I really believe we’re at a tipping point,” Nicholas DiPasquale, director of the Environmental Protection Agency’s Chesapeake Bay Program office in Annapolis, told The Sun. “Once you reach a point where you’ve overcome the inertia of the system, these indicators start building on each other.”

A third regional water quality scorecard, this one measuring the health of Baltimore’s Inner Harbor and its tributaries, will be released on Monday by Waterfront Partnership of Baltimore. 

On Your Bike 

National Bike to Work Day is next Friday, May 19, and the Central Maryland Metropolitan Council has collected a handy list of nearly 40 official events on its website. The events range from bike safety checks to commuting convoys led by experienced cyclers and designed to introduce newbies to the ins and outs of bike commuting. Though Baltimore City is hosting the greatest number of events, Anne Arundel, Baltimore, Howard, Carroll, and Harford counties are represented, too. Bike to Work Day grew out of National Bike Month, which began in 1956. It promotes the benefits of cycling, which include physical fitness and reduced vehicle emissions and air pollution. 

In The Air 

Speaking of reduced vehicle emissions, The Sun has a good rundown of where the Baltimore region stands in terms of air quality. In short, the Maryland Clean Air report found that, overall, air quality was better in Baltimore in 2016 than it had been in previous years, but that ozone levels ticked up. Ozone is ground level smog created when particles from vehicle and power plant emissions interact with sunlight. It can be harmful to humans—particularly the very young, very old, and very sick—and is the cause of the Code Orange and Code Red air quality alerts that are sometimes issued. 

“We’re making clean air progress with strong partnerships and steady investments, but more is needed regionally and nationally to sustain our pace and protect our health,” Maryland Department of the Environment Secretary Ben Grumbles said in a statement. “Marylanders’ hearts, lungs and waterways will benefit from smart actions at home and in upwind states to keep improving our air quality.”

Birdcam Season Soars 

And now, as they say, for something completely different. Naturalists from all over the world delight each year in the Chesapeake Bay’s springtime birdcams—and this year is no different. The Chesapeake Conservancy hosts live streams of three of the most popular:

The peregrine falcon cam atop 100 Light Street in Baltimore City, which is capturing the growth of four furry fluffballs.

The great blue heron rookery on the Eastern Shore

And the osprey cam on Kent Island 

There is also another osprey cam, this one following a nest with three eggs at Severna Park High School

Follow along as the birds raise their families and the chicks eventually fly the nest. Happy spring and happy birding! 

Wheel of Time

August 15, 2015
North Market Street, Frederick

“My strategy is to stay on the far right and not die,” says 58-year-old Nick Ackermann, smiling beneath a bushy mustache and protective headgear that resembles a brimless pith helmet.

Nearby, two-dozen-plus fellow penny-farthing enthusiasts—many, like Ackermann, in tweed and knickers—climb atop 4-foot tall bicycles, preparing for the 4th annual Frederick Clustered Spires High Wheel Race, the only U.S. competition of its kind. Fittingly, a barbershop quartet performs “The Star-Spangled Banner” just prior to the blast of the starter’s horn, which sends the riders scurrying around the .4-mile circuit, ringed with 5,000 spectators.

Proving Ackermann’s point about the danger inherent in navigating a race while mounted on turn-of-the-century-style bikes, there’s a pretty good crash two-thirds of the way through the event.

Ultimately, Angela Long, a senior V.P., mom of two, and avid cyclist, racing in heels no less (“The extra inches to help me climb up,” she says) takes the women’s competition. And Eric Cameron, an Air Force biomedical engineer and runner, takes the men’s title, falling just a lap short of the one-hour course record. A novice who just turned 42, Cameron watched last year from a local pub and jumped at the chance to compete when a friend’s husband, who owns a high-wheeler, suffered an injury this summer.

“I guess now we’ll have to buy him one,” his wife Jill says, standing next to him afterward. “Maybe for his birthday.”

“Or my mid-life crisis,” says Cameron, still breathing hard.

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String Theory

July 25, 2015
Eastern Avenue

“Does anybody know what ukulele means in Hawaiian?” Victoria Vox asks the packed beginner’s workshop at the Creative Alliance. Several hands shoot up. “Jumping flea—that’s right,” says Vox, explaining how 19th-century Hawaiians marveled at the quick fingerboarding of migrant Portuguese sugar-cane workers on their native country’s compact instrument. Which, of course, Hawaiians soon made their own, substituting catgut for traditional steel strings. “I’m pretty sure they just got tired of the cuts and blood from those steel strings,” laughs Vox.

The host of the all-day, second annual Charm City Ukulele Festival, Vox, a Baltimore transplant who has graced the cover of Ukulele magazine and tours extensively, is leading three of the seven uke classes—there’s also a Hula workshop—and performing at tonight’s show.

Other ukulelists this evening include Hawaiian-native Glen Hirabayashi, who performs regularly in the region with The Aloha Boys, and Louisa Hall, a Northern Virginia-based songwriter who often infuses her cheerful strumming and pleasing tenor with darker lyrics. Her set includes numbers such as “Irrational Fears,” “Internet Love Song”—a disturbing chronicle of online dating experiences—and “Missed Connections,” an upbeat tune in which she stalks a stranger getting off the D.C. Metro.

“I was attracted to the ukulele because it’s portable fun, but I get creepy and obsessive, too,” Hall says, adding that her musical training consists mostly of singing in the car and listening to Ella Fitzgerald. “I often describe myself as ‘aggressively jolly.’”

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Tiny Love Songs

August 9, 2015
Belair Road

The volunteer-run Natural History Society of Maryland, which is hard to miss given the replica dinosaur out front, has its unusual collection of taxidermied wildlife, pressed butterflies, and sea turtle skulls on public display this afternoon. But today’s main attraction is a presentation by entomologist Cathy Stragar called Summer’s Singing Insects, about the katydids, crickets, and cicadas that make up the season’s outdoor chorus.

Stragar, who works at the Bee Inventory and Monitoring Lab at the U.S. Geological Survey Patuxent Wildlife Research Center in Laurel, explains that many insects make music by a process known as stridulation—or rubbing body parts together at incredibly fast speeds. A male cricket, for example, uses one wing as a plane and the other as a scraper/bow, playing to attract female partners.

Cicadas, however, use a different method, popping an abdominal noisemaker called a tymbal, which can produce sounds over 100 decibels. “Males close their ears to literally prevent them from going deaf,” she says.

Some grasshoppers, on the other hand, emit supersonic sounds that humans can’t hear.

As part of the lecture, the first in a bimonthly series at the Natural History Society, Stragar plays recordings of crickets and cicadas. She notes the local varieties of each as the small but rapt audience nods in recognition of certain familiar chirps and whistles.

“Recently, Jurassic-era cricket sounds were re-created,” Stragar continues, adding that paleontologists have reconstructed the fossil wing structures of the modern crickets’ ancestors. “These tell us a lot about what the world sounded like during that period,” she says, hitting the play button on her laptop. “These are 165-million-year-old songs.”

His appearance on stage last fall at Centennial High School’s auditorium, with friends Brock Yetso and Lance Armstrong in tow, should’ve been a simple, happy homecoming for Doug Ulman. The 36-year-old CEO of the Livestrong Foundation had won three state soccer championships here with Yetso, never losing a game. He’d gone on to play at Brown University before receiving a cancer diagnosis just prior to his sophomore year and then, remarkably, survived two more bouts of cancer in school while also launching the Baltimore-based Ulman Cancer Fund for Young Adults. Instead, however, a cloud hung over the “Lance Unplugged” event in the Centennial auditorium. Yetso, hosting the forum with Armstrong and Ulman, noted more than 50 cancer survivors were signed up for the Half Full Triathlon in Ellicott City the next day—which Armstrong had entered at the last minute. “Why this race?” Yetso asked the Tour de France legend. “You could do any race in the world.”

Armstrong responded with an awkward smile and a glance toward the audience—acknowledging the elephant in the room. “Well, that’s technically not true.”

The U.S. Anti-Doping Agency (USADA) had just handed Armstrong a lifetime competition ban after he announced he’d no longer contest the organization’s blood-doping charges. In truth, he came to Howard County because race organizers relinquished their USA Triathlon sanction just for him—in hopes his participation would raise more money for its charity, the Ulman Cancer Fund. The $50 Lance Unplugged tickets sold well, and auctioning off a Trek bike and jersey signed by Armstrong raised another $7,500. Still, there was a sense the other shoe was about to drop for Armstrong. Which it did.

Three days later, the USADA published its final report—more than a thousand pages of evidence and testimony from more than two dozen people, including 15 cyclists—documenting payments, e-mails, and test results proving “the use, possession and distribution of performance-enhancing drugs by Lance Armstrong.” Two weeks after his Centennial High appearance, Armstrong was stripped of his seven Tour de France titles.

Ulman admits today he’d held private doubts about the veracity of Armstrong’s denials for some time. But it wasn’t until he read the USADA report that he was forced to acknowledge his good friend—Ulman got married in Armstrong’s Austin, TX, backyard—had lied to him for years. “There’s not one thing in particular that I remember, except that it was a sad occasion,” Ulman says of Armstrong’s apology to him over dinner before his infamous confession with Oprah in January. “It was definitely emotional.”

Of course, Ulman’s broader concern was the hit Armstrong’s cancer foundation—whose mission had become his own life’s work—would take in the fallout around the disgraced cyclist. Suddenly, the nonprofit’s survival was being questioned.

“There is no playbook for dealing with this sort of thing,” Ulman says.

A compelling public speaker with his own powerful story, Ulman is now assuming what had been Armstrong’s public role. Among high-profile media appearances, he appeared on Today shortly after the USADA report came to light. In March, he did a Q & A with Time magazine.

He also has had to assume a greater role in motivating Livestrong staff and volunteers, admitting morale at Livestrong headquarters suffered a blow as the bottom fell out of the founder’s story.

Sitting in his office, a yellow Livestrong bracelet still around his wrist, Howard County Executive Ken Ulman recalled the summer afternoon 17 years ago that led to his younger brother’s initial cancer diagnosis. “We were running together through Dorsey’s Search [a Columbia neighborhood] and he kept coming back to check on me—because he was faster and in a lot better shape,” says Ken Ulman, a former Centennial point guard, but by then no longer a competitive athlete like his brother, who was preparing for his second season in the Brown midfield.

“He had asthma, but it had always been manageable. This time, though, he couldn’t get his breathing under control and went to Howard County General. They took a chest X-ray, almost as precaution, and that’s when it showed up.”

The X-ray revealed a tumor attacking rib cartilage in the then 19 year old. Ultimately, he underwent surgery for bone cancer, but was far from in the clear from cancer, and, over the next year, Ulman was diagnosed and treated twice for malignant melanoma. Determined to play soccer again, he returned to help Brown to three Ivy League Championships in four years. At the same time, he was turning his attention to a new challenge.

In college, Ulman, who could pass for Armstrong’s younger brother and possesses a similar blue-eyed intensity—albeit matched with earnestness rather than arrogance—studied American history and education. He had every intention of becoming a social studies teacher and soccer coach. But while in school, with assistance from his family, particularly his mother, long active in the Howard County community, he founded the nonprofit Ulman Cancer Fund. It provides support, education, and resources to young adults diagnosed with cancer, including help navigating the health-care system.

“Cancer may leave your body, but it never leaves you,” says Ulman, who discovered few informational sources while receiving treatment. “You get a cold or the flu and you wonder if you are okay. I still go to the dermatologist regularly for a scan, and the week leading up to that, I can experience a little anxiety.”

Early on, Ken Ulman says, his parents, Diana and Louis Ulman, instilled the importance of making a difference in the lives of others—volunteering the brothers at a local homeless shelter—as well as giving them the optimism and confidence that they could be leaders and problem solvers. (Diana and Louis Ulman, it should be noted, have overcome their own bouts with cancer.) Ken Ulman believes his always-driven brother—who was also Howard County Student Government Association president in high school—“is drawing on those qualities now” as he leads Livestrong through the public-relations crisis related to its founder.

Yetso, who has known Ulman since they were 10, says his pal’s resiliency was apparent on the soccer field long before his battles with cancer. “It was almost like he enjoyed being down 1-0 in a game,” Yetso says. “He is just someone who always responded to a challenge. He would’ve been a great social studies teacher and a coach that won state championships in soccer if he’d stayed on that track. He definitely became more focused [after cancer]—that experience changed him—but at the same time, he’s always been that way.”

As a junior at Brown, Ulman received an unexpected e-mail from Armstrong—who had not yet won his first Tour de France, but had learned of the young soccer player’s struggle with cancer. “I feel as if we are the lucky ones. Nobody can really have the perspective and the focus of a cancer survivor,” Armstrong wrote. “If there is anything I can do to help your cause, please let me know. Otherwise, look after yourself and take care.”

If there’s any doubt about Ulman’s affinity for a challenge, he did a 100-mile Himalyan ultra-marathon several years ago.

Staying in touch via e-mail for two years, Ulman eventually ventured to Texas to meet Armstrong in person during a charity ride.

Armstrong, of course, despite vigorously defending himself (to say the least) against doping allegations for the past decade, has always been the face of his cancer foundation. Raising millions for his cancer nonprofit may have enabled him, in terms of good will, to deflect negative publicity from the persistent doping allegations—as some have suggested. But it’s hard to question Livestrong’s efforts, which do not fund cancer cure research, but aim “to inspire and empower” cancer patients and their families, guiding individuals through the cancer experience and encouraging them to live an active life as a survivor.

Ulman, named president and CEO in 2007, helped develop Livestrong into one of the world’s best-known philanthropic organizations—one that took in $48.5 million in 2012. Not only does Livestrong have a legion of cancer-survivor supporters, including 116,000 donors worldwide last year, it has earned a four-star rating—the highest—from Charity Navigator, an independent charity evaluator.

But in the wake of the doping revelations, he quickly had to make a number of moves to separate the organization’s mission and work from its association with Armstrong. The first, Ulman says, was a commitment to “over communicate” both externally and internally. “We’ve probably had 50 meetings with our staff,” says Ulman, “some an hour, others five minutes.”

Most noticeably, three weeks after Armstrong lost his titles, the Lance Armstrong Foundation dropped the name of the disgraced cyclist from its title, officially changing its name to Livestrong.

Two weeks later, after discussing the issue with Ulman, Armstrong resigned from the board.

Still, he can’t—and probably no one can—replace Armstrong as a celebrity rainmaker. Instead, according to Meg Algren, associate professor of communications at Towson University, the key to Livestrong’s survival must be a renewed focus on its “product”—serving those with cancer diagnoses and cancer survivors.

Marian Stern, a philanthropy consultant and head of Projects in Philanthropy, says Ulman must manage a delicate balance in distancing Livestrong from Armstrong, but believes that Livestrong can survive. She also says Livestrong’s ability to thrive post-Armstrong will reveal more about how the organization was built, in terms of strength and integrity, than any single response to the cyclist’s ongoing crisis. (In April, the U.S. Department of Justice joined a lawsuit alleging fraud related to Armstrong’s U.S. Postal Service sponsorship.)

Ulman already knows that the organization will suffer in terms of its fundraising. He says it has reduced its internal budget for this year by 11 percent, but adds that major grant funders like Nike and Oakley remain on board. To Algren’s point, Ulman is also quick to add that Livestrong is “doubling down” on its mission in 2013, planning to spend more this year—it maintains a $38 million endowment—on its various programs than last.

“We are going to use this opportunity to get the word out about who we are,” he says.

Ulman, who reportedly earned $354,150 in 2011, says he never considered cutting ties with Livestrong. “I feel such a responsibility to the organization and our mission,” he says, remaining grateful to Armstrong in many ways. “Without him and the intensity of his efforts, we wouldn’t have been able help the hundreds of thousands of people that we have.”

In the end, Ulman says, accepting his good friend Armstrong’s mistakes—however gross, including going after former teammates—is akin to dealing with the bad behavior of a family member. “You can be disappointed, frustrated, but you don’t cast a family member or friend aside and overlook what they’ve meant to you and the good things they’ve done.

“It’s ironic,” Ulman says. “We are in the business of survivorship. And all of the tools that we use to help people navigate cancer—now we have to apply those same principles to the organization.”

UPDATE (5/30/13): Nike announced that the company will stop production of its Livestrong line of exercise apparel and gear at the end of this year, terminating a licensing agreement that helped raise $100 million for the cancer foundation, according to Reuters and numerous media outlets. Ron Cassie is following the story here.