Life Day
While sitting around late one night we came to the realization that most of us–gimps and normals–had experienced a moment in our lives when we realized that living with a disability no longer meant a second-rate life. In fact, our disabilities had become an open door to a first rate life, ripe with opportunities and rich in community and friendships. We call that moment our Life Day and invite you share yours with the community. Email them, along with a photo to info@paradoxsports.org.
Mike Reddy Climbing for the first time after breaking his back.
Mike Reddy I used to spend a lot of time focusing on whether June 30th, 2009 should have been my last day of life. I debated endlessly in my head whether or not surviving my fall and subsequent rescue on Mt. Sneffels was the best outcome for all involved. Whether simply “letting go” might have been the easiest way to deal with what has proven to be the single most important life-changing event in my life. In the end, it’s a moot point- I survived, or at least I had survived the fall. It’s been the recovery that has proven to be the far greater challenge.
Through the process of healing, I’d slowly come to realization that even though my body and spirit had been badly damaged, my desire to pursue an active lifestyle remained undiminished. Climbing, mountaineering, cycling, international travel, scientific field research, these were just a few of the many activities I engaged in before my fall and I desperately wanted believe I would be able to do them once again. My medical team was cautiously optimistic about a recovery, but climbing mountains was not in their opinion, part of that equation. They were not enthused so say the least at the prospect of my taking up the same types of sports that had nearly killed me. I was left with the feeling that life as I knew it, as a ‘normal” was over and grew despondent over the idea that I might not ever pursue any of the same activities as I did before my fall. That all changed with my introduction to the community of Paradox Sports.
One of many “life days” came in mid-April of 2010 with the visit of Malcolm Daly. Mal had come at the invitation of my good friend Nate McKenzie, then one of the owners of CT Rock Gym to run an adaptive climbing clinic developed by Paradox Sports. I eagerly volunteered to be the “guinea pig gimp”. When it came time to put into practice what we had just been taught, instead of putting me on the Wellman rig, Mal sized me up and said let’s just try to top-rope on belay without the use of any adaptive equipment. I dropped my crutches, put on my harness and tied my first figure-8 knot in over eight months. Soon I was climbing, not elegantly, and not without several falls, but eventually I topped out on a 5.7 route. I was overcome with emotion. Here, I was climbing again, not even a year after my injury! My physicians had told me there was a good chance I would never climb again. I had even convinced myself that I wouldn’t attempt climbing for at least another six months. And yet, there I was, 35 feet off the ground under my own power. It is hard to express the range of emotions I experienced that day, but elation was probably the most evident, based on the smile I couldn’t seem to wipe off my face.
For these and all the future “life days” to come, I am deeply indebted to my loved ones, and the inspiring folks I’ve met through Paradox who’ve shown me that an active lifestyle is not only restricted to those who consider themselves “normal”. I often tell people that climbing almost killed me, but then it is also the thing that saved my life at a time when I needed it most- a paradox, present in my own life. I now look to the future satisfied with the knowledge that it’s not a matter of if I will climb mountains again, but when.
Mike Reddy
01 September 2011
Craig Demartino We’re over half way when it hits me like a ton o bricks. I’m back climbing in Yosemite, on the Captian, and I feel GOOD. Something I haven’t felt for years. As we swing leads, it’s like I’m back to being the regular person I always was, the way God made me. A climber, dad and husband; not a disabled, crippled-up trauma survivor. I was finally feeling like the person I was made to be, only better, because now I have the insight of almost dying.
There is NOTHING like falling 100 feet, almost dying, loosing a leg, fusing your back, breaking your neck and having a spinal cord injury, to get you focused on the things that really matter in life. People look at my leg with sadness in their eyes and it’s easy for me to see why. I realize I did the same thing before it was me. When I saw a wheelchair or an amputee, I was shocked and sad. I felt like they had lost their life. In truth, it was me that was lost.
I was given a second chance to be the person I should have been all along. I wish I could say I hit the mark everyday, but I can’t. In fact I miss more than I hit. But now I have the amazing insight of what it’s like to live. The climbs are more fun, my wife and kids are my focus and, instead of just taking, I’ve learned to give.
As Hans and I top out in the early evening light and we shake hands and high five, I realize that it’s not about being on top or how fast we climbed the route. It’s about being who I should be, who we should all be and treating the rest of the world as we want to be treated. When I got hurt, people gave their time and talents to help me get better, to be whole. That’s who I want to be.
My Life Day was about waking up to the world around me instead of MY own little world. And jumping headlong into that world with the same love and support so many had shown me.
Craig Demartino
30 January 2008
For All the Right Reasons Devaki Murch My life day held no lightening bolts of shocks of realization. It was actually a quiet day broken down to the simplest moment of stillness-I was lying on a rock watching all the little fish in the river and I was trying to identify my feelings of discontent it wasn’t that things were wrong, its just that they weren’t right either.
Malcolm Daly had invited me to photograph some Iraq vets climbing in Eldorado Canyon. My life shifted on single afternoon shooting pictures of Keith Deutsch climbing after losing his leg in Iraq and Chad Jukes climbing 3 months after his amputation, witnessing their shift in confidence and the true light that radiated from deep inside of them when they reached the top was indescribable.
A few days later at the No Barriers event in Squaw Valley, DJ was talking about the needs of Paradox Sports and the opportunity to be a part of the marketing team. I felt like everything I had learned in the last 4.5 years had honed me perfectly for this position. This was it. I felt like all of the pieces of my life were starting to make sense and fall into place.
A week later I walked into the Prana office, and said, I love my job, but I want to quit. It was the easiest hard thing I had ever done. Quite the Paradox.
As much as a life day is about an individual, my life day would not have been possible without the opportunities that were presented to me by Malcolm, Keith and Chad and DJ.
I learned that a person does not have to do anything spectacular, or be a superstar to make a difference. It is the simplest act of being present and supportive that inspires.
Devaki Murch
06.23.2007
