Andy would never use the word synergy — who would? What a ridiculous word! And yet, if it means the linking together of disparate minds and ideas to create a better whole, our time working together actually was that word. I always appreciated Andy — I think he’ll agree with that — but now that I’m an ED myself I just revere his patience, kindness, and putting the League above his wants and wishes.

The best way to illustrate how Andy represented TEAM and AWESOMENESS for me is a (long, sorry) personal story. After I’d been working at the League about a year, a guy we all loved named Matt (for obvious reasons, we called him Mate) was going to head back to England. His one goal before he left was to complete a U.S. (not a metric) century.

I can’t find the (incredible) photos from this trip, so this is Todd, Andy and myself on my first 60 mile ride with the League. On this ride, Andy and Todd waited for me politely at one point. I rode up and spat out, “I don’t need you to BABYSIT ME” quite rudely, thus ensuring they didn’t wait again and also creating a line that we all say to this day when feeling grouchy …

While I had started at the League proud of my one ride of longer than 30 miles (YEAH solo trip to Mount Vernon and back), by then I had one (incredible, life-altering) Cycle Oregon under my belt and lots of 50 and 70 mile rides. We had a dedicated (to each other and to the cause) staff, a nearby Apple Butter Century calling our names and the ability to do it all for ‘work.’

So, we signed up (in an unrelated story, the four staff who couldn’t go decided to see a movie instead of ride a bike, and they saw a TOTALLY R rated movie with a COMPLETELY creepy sex scene and said they could barely look at each other for days with the awkwardness. So, let it be a lesson to you, choose the bike ride!) for the century, and set off.

First of all, we went in two cars — one carrying passengers and one pickup truck with our beloved bikes piled in back. I was driving my (too too fast and sleek) yellow Lexus, and Mate and Yoder left from the office with me. We drove to Falls Church to pick up Andy, and this is what we hear from his wife as he is coming out to meet us: “Happy Anniversary, Honey!”

Of course, we start to question him — anniversary? What? Well, it is their 15 year anniversary, THIS NIGHT, and Andy has chosen to go with us to ride in backwards rural Virginia over celebrating at home. We find this awe-inspiring and awesome.

Then, after a long and uneventful drive, we arrive and set up camp. From here, the evening gets a bit hazy. Drinks are had. Sausages are grilled over the fire. Inter-office love between some people bloom, and is curdled in others. After a hike and a quick tour by Yoder, our colleague who actually attended college in this teensy, tiny town, Andy smartly drives off in my yellow Lexus to stay in his hotel for the night rather than continuing to consume alcohol. He makes the choice alone — the rest of us are ALL IN.

Did I mention drinks were consumed? Sleep is, barely, had. We get up in the morning, and before we even arrive at the start we are stopped by police — because Andy had the Lexus, two of the more youthful-looking of us are crammed in the back of the pickup truck, and the police man thinks we have two children in the back of a truck. After being assured that Yoder and I are ANCIENT, the policeman lets us go (Mate: “I also wanted to be stopped by an American police officer before I left! This is awesome!”) we arrive at the start.

At this point, we’re already down a rider to the evil genius known as hangover, so the five of us set out. Keep in mind the goal: Complete a century. Keep in mind that one of us is on a single speed, one of us has only just started riding long distances, one of us is in the pickup truck vomiting and only Andy is fresh as a daisy.

We stay together. We ride together. We laugh, we wait at rest stops for the laggards (I say we, but let’s be honest, they were always waiting for me and single speed guy who kindly rode with me). We eat a lot of pie.

At some point during the day, we sit down for lunch. We’re more than halfway in, but only just, and while I was FINE* (*I was not fine), the rest of the non-Andy team was really sagging. Andy, as he has always and had always done, takes a look at his team, sets aside his personal goal of doing an awesome 100 miles as a group instead of spending his anniversary with his beloved wife, and says, “you know, there is an 75-mile option.”

I’d like to tell you there was a hearty debate, followed by a team cheer of CENTURY OR DEATH, but we just basically fell on his offer, and took the short cut at the first opportunity. Andy, alone, completed the century (in about the same time that it took the rest of us to stagger to the end of our 75 miles).

So, how does this translate to Andy as a leader ?
1. Plan for fun.
2. Build a team with interesting pursuits, but keep your head about you.
3. For god’s sake, get a motel room if that’s a possibility.
4. Put your team’s wellbeing first.
5. Finish your own goals while managing to what others can do in the moment.

Andy, you were a great boss; I miss your advice, insight and humor every day. Thank you.