Just hours after finishing his 29th Survival of the Shawangunks (SOS) triathlon – arguably one of the most grueling of its kinds in the world – beloved local veterinarian Mike Halstead boarded a plane that would take him to San Diego, where he and his friend Tom Struzzieri, owner of HorseShows in the Sun (HITS) in Saugerties, would begin their transcontinental cycling journey in an effort to raise awareness and money for Muscular Dystrophy (MS). Being a podium finisher for dozens of years in the SOS, Halstead – who has also competed in no fewer than a dozen Ironman triathlons, including the elite and prestigious Ironman World Championships – decided to take on an even-greater endurance challenge: cycling 100 miles a day for 27 days, with Struzzieri, from San Diego to St. Augustine, Florida.
To cycle in the 100-degree heat for 100 miles for one day is the equivalent of a “Century Ride” in the devil’s armpit; but to do it 27 days in a row? With blisters and chafing sores from the SOS that haven’t even healed over? Through some of the hottest, sandiest, most cactus-loving and jagged tire-popping stretches of buckled asphalt in the Southwest? Well, leave it to Dr. Mike, as his friends call him, to get after it, headwinds and all. The world “daunting” has immediate status elevation when talking about Halstead, one of the most mild-mannered, humble and gracious people you’ll ever meet.
And did I mention that Dr. Mike was also diagnosed with fourth-stage melanoma, and less than a year afterwards with multiple sclerosis (MS)? All the while he was training, cycling, running, swimming, husbanding and running Lake Katrine Animal Hospital. Oh, and if you really needed his services, the Stone Ridge-based vet and triathlete would often show up at your house to help treat or diagnose a sick or wounded pet.
All I knew of Dr. Mike was his legendary status as the athlete who had competed in more SOS Triathlons than anyone in this tribe of athletes, donning a Speedo and full head of hair in those first rugged, no-gear bike/swim/run/swim/run/swim/run competitions, and still being equally as competitive with a jammer instead of a banana hammock and a little less hair in more recent SOS epic battles. What I didn’t know was that in 2012, Halstead was diagnosed with MS, a group of genetic diseases that cause progressive weakness and loss of muscle mass.
“I’ve been extremely fortunate to have amazing doctors that have enabled me to continue my crazy – some may say ‘stupid’ – active lifestyle! Alex Sherwood [a friend, SOS tribe member and competitor] likes to say that once I got diagnosed with MS, I got faster,” Halstead says with a laugh. “Seriously, I’ve been so lucky, because there are many people who have MS that aren’t able to continue being as active as they want to be.”
As he grappled with this diagnosis, learning to manage it and still carry on his practice and endurance-loving lifestyle, Halstead noticed what appeared to be a large bump or bruise on his right shin. “I went to the doctor, who sent me to a surgeon to have it removed,” he recalled. But a week later he got a call informing him that the lab results determined that this mass was just a symptom of fourth-stage melanoma – basically skin cancer that likes to spread rapidly through the body and has a high mortality rate. They shot him up with dye to see which lymph nodes contained cancerous cells. They found several near his groin area and scheduled surgery, and then moved toward chemotherapy and radiation. “I went in just after the SOS in September of 2016,” said Halstead, who often defines things based on where the SOS (always the second weekend of September) fell in terms of his life’s arc.
He describes doing the SOS that year with his buddies and SOS über-athletes Sherwood and Mike Vance. “I had a pretty decent May and June that year of training. But once I found out about the melanoma, I wasn’t feeling too motivated to get out, but knew I had to for my sanity.”
As the SOS approached, he couldn’t not be a part of it, and his friends made sure he wasn’t alone. “I got done with the bike and my wife [Shirley Halstead, vice president of Finance at SUNY New Paltz] shot me a shit-eating grin, and then I see Sherwood and Vance waiting for me with tattoos across their chests that said, ‘Dr. Mike’s Fan Club.’ We just started laughing and continued to laugh most of the race. We stayed together, and by the time we climbed to Skytop, we were in tears from laughing. I don’t know how Sherwood [the Voice of the SOS] had enough energy to grab the mic and announce the rest of the race!”
Surgery and chemo began a few days post-SOS. The prognosis was looking good, until they began to run standard MRIs and CAT scans of the brain – a routine procedure for MS, and also for melanoma, which likes to set up shop in the brain. Halstead said that the MRIs kept showing lesions in his brain that hadn’t been there before. “The doctors couldn’t tell if they were MS lesions or cancer lesions. So, they’d have me go back home and wait another six weeks and do another one. Each time the lesions got worse.”
This is when Halstead believed he didn’t have much time to live and sold his business (where he is now an employee) to a veterinarian he respected. “They were getting ready to radiate my brain, and that wasn’t going to end well,” he said. “I had to decide, is that how I want to live the rest of my life?”
After some second and third opinions, and based on his own research, Halstead and his oncologist from Vassar became convinced that these were MS lesions. “The minute I stopped chemotherapy, they went away. There was something about the way chemo impacted my MS that made it grow; but once chemo ended, all of the lesions went away.”
Halstead has been cancer-free for five-and-a-half years, and does not take one day for granted. “Tom and I started doing these bike rides from his house on the Hudson River to Lake George, and then we did one from his house to Buffalo; and we hatched up this idea that we’d just keep adding on another 400 miles each time until we crossed the entire country.”
As they both realized, it would take much more planning than that, and so they devised this plan (roughly) to try to bike across the country in one month, averaging approximately 100 miles per day. To do something that epic, they both believed it would be a huge boon to raise money for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. “That’s a cause near and dear to my heart, as it’s something you live with forever,” said Halstead. “There is no cure, but I want to do whatever I can to help find ways that people can get effective treatment so that they can have a better quality of life with MS – and ultimately, of course, I’d love to see a cure.”
As they ride through California, New Mexico and Texas, change endless flat tires, cover themselves in zinc oxide to protect them from the sun, meet kind Americans in diners and greet family and friends who have set out to join them on various portions and segments of their journey, Halstead is awed by his buddy Struzzieri, who keeps pushing against the heavy headwinds they’re experiencing like a champ, and by all of the people who are following their journey via Instagram @vet2go and other social media posts.
Now more than 1,400 miles into the trip, hitting those open roads for eight hours a day, it’s getting hard; but Halstead’s not one to let adversity get in his way. When asked how it was going on Day 13, he said, “We’re having a great time and have already raised $55,000!”
He could very well be one of the kindest, most modest super-athletes I’ve ever encountered, and he’s doing it all with a smile, MS and as a cancer survivor. To donate, go to https://mssociety.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.search&contextualSearch=1&filter=participant&searchTerm=Team+Alpha.
Join the family! 
