‘For Liz’: Concordian biking Pan-Mass Challenge to honor late wife
When Cheryl Flynn climbs onto her bike today, she will carry the memory of her wife, Liz Crowell, with her every mile.

When Cheryl Flynn climbs onto her bike for the Pan-Mass Challenge today, she will carry the memory of her wife, Liz Crowell, with her every mile.
“She’d be riding still, if she could,” Flynn said.
Crowell spent years battling a rare form of cervical cancer while refusing to let the disease define her life. She was a writer, a poet, a mother, and a longtime Acton resident who found a way to give of herself even while undergoing treatment.
In 2020, when the Pan-Mass Challenge, a bicycling event to raise money for cancer research, shifted to a virtual format during the Covid-19 pandemic, Crowell decided she wanted to participate. She created a fundraising page, raised enough money to become what the event calls a “heavy hitter,” and spent weeks riding a 10-mile loop around Acton and Carlisle.
“She was like, ‘I’m going to ride the Pan-Mass Challenge, because this isn’t going to tell me how I’m going to live my life. I need to give back. I want to be active. I want to show my kids that I’m going to do as much as I can,’” Flynn said.
Crowell continued riding in the challenge for the next two years. Her final ride in 2023 was cut short by a fall that broke her elbow. By the following year, however, her cancer had progressed too far for her to ride. She died at the end of 2024.
This year, Flynn will complete the ride Crowell never got to finish.

Taking the mantle
Alongside her friend Denise Jantzen, Flynn will ride the full Pan-Mass Challenge route — about 175 miles over two days from Worcester to Provincetown.
The Pan-Mass Challenge is an annual charity bike ride that raises money for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. Since it began in 1980, the event has grown into one of the nation’s largest athletic fundraising events.
The idea for Flynn to participate in the Pan-Mass Challenge came from Jantzen, who has known Flynn for years. She said she has spent years supporting the event as a donor but had never ridden.
Jantzen has reasons to ride, too. She lost her mother to cancer several years ago, and she has watched others face the disease.
“We have a very good friend [who] is fighting cancer,” she said. “Our favorite babysitter’s baby is struggling with pediatric cancer. My neighbor’s daughter is 16, and she has pediatric cancer.”
Jantzen said she felt participating in the Pan-Mass Challenge was a way to turn that grief and frustration into action.
“The best way to fight back is just to raise funds for cancer research,” she said.

Golden Gear Girls
When they set out, they will be wearing their matching white jerseys with blue and gold accents. On the back, Flynn’s jersey says, “For Liz.” Jantzen’s reads, “For Mom.”
They call themselves the Golden Gear Girls, a playful acknowledgment that they’re getting closer in age to the women from the sitcom “The Golden Girls” than they’d ever imagined.
For Flynn, the long hours of training have become a sort of therapy.
“When you’re grieving, you spend a lot of time in your mind, in your head by yourself,” she said. “When you’re on a bike for hours at a time, it’s the same; you spend a lot of time in your head.”
The memories can be challenging for both cyclists. Jantzen said losing her mother forced her to take full responsibility for making the most of life for herself and her family.
“You’ve just got to get up every day and keep moving, because life is short,” she said.
After years spent caring for Crowell through surgeries, treatments, and hospital visits, Flynn said she has had to redevelop self-care. “When you’re taking care of somebody who is very ill and then ultimately dying, you don’t take care of yourself,” Flynn said. “There’s not a lot of extra space.”
Now, she said, she’s seeing a bigger picture.
“I have to be healthy, because I’m all my children have at this point,” Flynn said.
Flynn said the rides have also brought back memories of the life she and Crowell built together before cancer. She remembers times they shared — riding together, raising their children, the trips they took.
The two first met on a blind date set up by mutual friends. Flynn remembers how Crowell commented on how well her car’s defroster worked. It’s those early, seemingly ordinary moments that Flynn said she holds closest.
“It’s been actually a lovely experience,” Flynn said, “to connect and to think and to remember.”


