Friday, March 20, 2015

Winning the Race

Sometimes, a race is won merely by showing up at the starting line.

In a world that predominately celebrates the gifted, the “perfect" and the privileged, we are rarely afforded a glimpse of the heroic pursuits that happen daily beyond the pandering press coverage that dominates our media devices. Our sensibilities are hijacked by the exaltation and idolization of admittedly, accomplished, but overpaid and excessively-hyped professional athletes who are genetically gifted and worshipped by the media, advertisers and sports fans. And quite often, the biggest “winners” wind up being the biggest losers.

Meanwhile, all around us every day, there are great and valiant human achievements happening that we don’t hear about. There are real athletes competing against obstacles and opponents we don’t even know exist. Every day a major feat of heroism is attained with one, tiny, trembling, step forward.

I recently had the privilege of working at the Wounded Warrior Trials at the Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas. What I experienced that day was a tremendously inspiring look into a parallel universe where the power of the human spirit is unbridled; fueled by hope, determination and victory. 

Robbed of limbs, emotionally tormented by the unspeakable horrors of war, stricken with traumatic brain injuries and life-altering illnesses, these men and women have risen from ashes. They are rebuilding themselves; redefining the nature of athleticism; pushing the boundaries of possibility and demonstrating for us that we are, in fact, the curators of our own lives.

I was working at the athlete check-in table that day and one of the hand cycling competitors, Ryan, had not yet checked in for his event. I inquired with coaches and fellow competitors and they were certain that he would be coming. He had been training all week with them and was determined to race. Someone made a phone call and found out that Ryan was “having a rough morning,” but was on his way.

He finally arrived a few minutes before his race was to begin. Ryan is a young veteran with severe leg injuries and motor skill impairment from a serious brain injury he sustained when a bomb detonated while he was serving in the Middle East. He cannot walk and he has difficulty speaking as a result of his brain injury.

I cannot begin to imagine the hurdles Ryan has had to overcome to get to this point. I can only surmise that he has endured multiple surgeries, hours of agonizing and exhausting physical and emotional therapy, and the tyranny of the seemingly glacial pace of recovery.

We got him set up for his race and off he went. I don’t know how he finished that day and it doesn’t really matter. What matters to me is that despite losing nearly everything just a year or two prior, Ryan made it to the starting line. And the starting line represents a chance in our lives for us start anew. It is a moment in time where we can decide who and what we shall become, regardless of what has come before and what might befall us in the future.

Every day, every hour and every minute marks an opportunity for a new beginning. It is there before us for the taking. But we must open our eyes and extend our arms and reach for it because there is no greater prize than the chance to start again.