Last time I wrote a serious story about My First Handcycle.
As always, there’s a bit of humor and a few more lessons just beneath the surface of the story.
It’s true that I resisted handcycling, mostly out of fear. I was sure I’d fail. But secretly, I wondered what it would be like.
See, I knew a few handcyclists, and they all had arms like this guy. His name’s Matt Updike, and he’s a double Paralympic gold medalist. Here’s Matt doing the Mt. Evans Hill Climb—first handcyclist to conquer the race up the world’s highest paved road.
Matt’s a lot younger than I am, but we have similar injuries. Was it possible…could I ever ride anywhere near as well as someone like Matt?
Maybe in a few weeks I’d have arms like that!
Of course it doesn’t work that way, and in a few weeks my arms looked like this, because God and exercise usually work long-term.
But this time, for lots of different reason, I didn’t quit. I’ll never ride—or look—like an Olympic champion, but that was never the point.
The point was to discover hope.
If someone had told me when I sat on My First Handcycle that there’d be two more and that I’d crank more than 30,000 miles, I would’ve said that wasn’t possible.
Hope changes what’s possible.
I’m still working on the arms.
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