Tribute by Georgie Herbert
When my mum was diagnosed with ovarian cancer back in the mid-2000’s, the nurse I attended Tuesday morning ‘bootcamp’ with was among the first to offer her support. At that point, we knew little about each other because 6 am in the park, in the dark, being barked orders to sit up, push up, star jump and burpee, left little time for socialising.
It was when I started recruiting people to join me in participating in Run Melbourne a few years later, to raise funds for the Ovarian Cancer Research Foundation (OCRF), that Em and I began to know each other a little more. She was among the first to sign up and challenge herself to a half marathon and rattle a tin among her friends and family for support. She was also among the first at the pub afterwards, shouting beers and reflecting on the toughest kilometres along the run’s route – Wellington Parade South used to get us both, every, single, time. The competitor in her was also pretty keen to check her time. Was it another PB? Of course it was, she always trained so hard.
We soon began to extend our exercise hours beyond our formal bootcamp, and took it upon ourselves to meet on other mornings of the week. And as if that wasn’t enough, we set up ‘at home’ challenges to keep us well and truly on the fitness straight and narrow. My Whatsapp would ping daily… how many burpees have you done today? Just finished 150, you? Got 50 to go for the day – that’ll take me to 150 too. Then the evidence – a sweaty selfie of Em with a wide grin.
When I lost my mum in early 2017, Em’s is one of the few faces I distinctly remember catching my eye at her memorial service. Emma’s was the friendly, caring, ‘it’ll be okay’ face I desperately needed in my time of despair. As a specialist cancer nurse, she had seen my grief so many times before, and she knew the precise warm and gentle smile needed to ease some of the pain.
In the months following mum’s passing, I joined forces with Clint Stanaway to establish the Silver Lining Ride. We set off in the October of 2017 for a once-off trek from Adelaide to Melbourne. In the months leading up to our departure, I’d been telling Em all about my struggles to learn to ride a proper road bike, clipped in shoes an all! She mused over my bruises from falling off the bike, and laughed at me when I was sure I wasn’t going to make it through the 1,068 kilometres. There was no doubt in her mind that I could do it, her support unwavering in both in voice and in funds. She even set up an Instagram account to be able to follow our progress on the ride.
Our first catch up post-ride, she had a million questions. How did I find it? Did I fall off? Did anyone fall off? How fast did we ride? Was it hard to keep up?
Our next catch up, she had one more question – would we be doing it again in 2018?
A few days later – another question. Would I mind if she bought a bike, learnt to ride and joined the 2018 edition of the Silver Lining Ride? That was the easiest to answer. Of course she could! Within a matter of days, we were wheeling her shiny new Liv Langma out of the shop and training had begun.
Day one of the 2018 Silver Lining Ride was about as gruelling a ride as it could get. 100km before a little car ride – then Jugiong to Murumburrah, the most difficult ride Em and I had done, and nothing has rivalled it since. Steep climb, a little downhill reprieve. Another steep climb. Em and I couldn’t do anything but zigzag across the road to lessen the gradient. The more accomplished riders – i.e. everyone else – long ahead of us. Puffing and panting, we breathlessly egged each other on, whilst the support car behind – driven by our friends Jordie and Renee – pumped out motivating tunes, tooted their horns and yelled out the window. At the top of each climb Em would remind the group “this girl is not a mountain goat,” and with a wide smile, she’d set off down the decent to get a head start before the next rise. That 35km epitomised everything I love about Em and our friendship. Her fierce determination to will herself up every climb, married with her sense of humour and adventure, topped with great care and support for the rest of the group to get through the day.
Whilst no other day of riding, on the 2018 or the 2019 Silver Lining Ride has been as physically challenging, the cumulation of more than 100km per day for over a week in each year’s ride meant Em’s shining traits were called upon constantly. In 2019, we had a difficult day between Bendigo and Daylesford. The traffic was impatient, we had a large group of extra riders join us from the Bendigo Ladies Cycling Club and there were some dangerous stretches of road. It had been a long week already, and as the Ride’s convener, I felt increasingly stressed about getting to our destination safely. We arrived in one piece and enjoyed a late picnic lunch in the park, during which Em was (unusually) hardly seen. Why? Because sensing my stressful day, she was busy doing a ring around of every Day Spa in Daylesford to find a last minute booking for a massage for me. No mean feat on a Saturday afternoon. In true Em fashion, it was booked and paid for before I could mount any form of argument and Maz had been arranged to drop us there. Of course, the planning didn’t end there. I was also informed in no uncertain terms, that we would be stopping at the wine bar on the short walk back to our accommodation for a little glass of bubbles to ensure the stresses of the day were well and truly melted away before we re-joined rest of the group for dinner.
When Covid hit, and Victoria was plunged into lockdown, Em and I developed a high degree of separation anxiety. As the year ground on, we got creative on how to ride together. We both had indoor trainers, and both had laptops, so putting two-and-two together, we began to Zoom each other from on our respective bikes. Others joined, and soon we had virtual group rides many an early weekday morning and most weekends. Some Saturdays we challenged ourselves to ride 100km – and each week Em would delight in playing us “She’ll be Coming Around the Mountain” to get us through the last few kilometres.
With many restrictions still in place, and the risk of a physical event too high, we flipped the 2020 Silver Lining Ride to a virtual event. Participants could ride anywhere, anytime over a month to chalk up the target 1,068km. The Silver Lining Ride website tracked rider kilometres with a little bike that moved across the page and it wasn’t long before Em’s bike was well ahead of everyone else’s. She had smashed through the 1,068km in the first fortnight and was showing no signs of easing up. As the rest of us timed our final kilometres to land on the last day of the ride period – 29th November – Em had doubled the challenge target. It wasn’t until we met for a ride and breakfast to celebrate her 40th Birthday on 30th November that the motivation behind her huge effort was revealed. As only Emma could, she reminded me that she likes to amuse herself and the competitive beast in her had been enacted. She had completed the Ride twice, so that she could one-up me by doing the equivalent of four Silver Lining Rides before she turned forty. The wide smile that stretched across her face as it dawned on me that because I turned forty three week’s earlier, I was never going to be able to say as such, was priceless. “I’ve got you covered on this one, Herbert”.
Over the years, Emma has raised more than $15,000 for ovarian cancer research – a significant personal contribution to the cause, for which I am personally extremely grateful and the team at the Ovarian Cancer Research Foundation have acknowledged with the beautiful bunch of flowers you see on the memory table today. In the words of our CEO, Lucinda Nolan, "Em was a staunch supporter of women – who not only contributed with fundraising, support and advocacy, but let her legs do the talking as well. She was a valued and much loved member of the OCRF family whose smile and warmth reminds us all why we do what we do."
Em, its impossible to put into words how much your friendship, care and support has meant to me. You’re truly one in a million and I’m going to miss you terribly. Rest peacefully my girl and ride safe in the clouds.
In lieu of flowers, you can make a donation to the OCRF in memory of Emma here.