Julie Beckman on Pelotonia Pride: More Important Than Any Differences

Julie Beckman‘s connection to cancer goes back to 1987. She was two years out of college when her mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Her mother was gone within 90 days of her diagnosis at just 49 years old.

“Since then, I’ve had many friends, colleagues, and family members diagnosed with cancer,” Julie said. “Many who have survived and are thriving. And some that died far too young.”

When she discovered Pelotonia 15 years ago, the mission and the community it had built pulled her in immediately.  She considers it “life giving” in every sense.

“We are raising money to fund new research and treatments and prolong or save lives,” she said. “And it is life giving in that it creates community and connection for every one of us who participate.”

For Julie, that community within Pelotonia has a name: Girls with Gears. Through every training ride, laugh, tear, and climb, she is grateful to feel accepted. Her Peloton team members within Girls with Gears have embraced Julie for who she is, and she’s grateful for the friendships she’s made through this group.

For 13 years, Julie’s dad was at every Pelotonia finish line. He was always the first to hug her and hand her a Diet Coke. He drove to pick her up every time a storm rolled in during a training ride. He was the same man who held her tight when she came out to him in 1990 and who marched beside her at Pride parades. He passed away in 2025. But she’s clear about one thing: he’ll still be with her as she crosses the Pelotonia finish line this year. 

Reflecting on the intersection of the LGBTQ+ community and the mission to end cancer, Julie shares: “At the core of any fight for good is community, support, selflessness, belief in something better, and love.” 

That’s what Pride means to Julie within Pelotonia: not a separate thing, but proof of the same thing.

“Pelotonia is a powerful example of the good that we are all capable of doing together. Walks of life don’t matter. But curing cancer matters. Thousands of people unite in a cause that is more important than any of our differences.”

Her favorite memory on the course hasn’t changed in 15 years. Somewhere on the back half of the 100-mile route during Ride Weekend, there’s a man parked on the side of the road, trunk open, holding a handmade sign that reads: Thank you so much for saving my wife.

“I have cried every single time I’ve seen it,” Julie said.

Her advice to first-year Pelotonia Riders isn’t complicated. Get to the start line early, breathe in the morning air, look all around you, and realize you’re part of something huge.  

And if you’re still on the fence about registering to ride? “Sitting on the fence hurts your butt more than a bike saddle,” Julie said. “Save a life. Don’t get splinters.”