Paralympics

Last weekend at about this time, I was finishing up a 2-day adventure as a volunteer/spectator/fan at the 2006 U.S. National Paralympic Track and Field Championships right here in the fine city of Atlanta. I must say, I didn’t know what to expect, but I was blown away by what I saw and more importantly who I saw. I saw an elite group of world-class athletes, all of whom carried with them onto the track (or field) a disability. The afflictions ranged from a mere amputated hand to severe paralysis and quadriplegia. These men and women (and a few boys and girls) were at their top form and certainly made me – a not-so-inactive healthy individual – feel rather lazy. I noted with wonder the reality that regardless of how many muscles remained in operable status for each of these athletes, they used each muscle fiber to its maximum potential. Most, in addition to their level of paralysis, also suffered from other effects of spinal damage, such as the inability to sweat. This of course poses a slight problem in Georgia in the middle of the summer, but it was just another day at the track for these athletes - a little wet sponge here and spray of water there, and they were able to cool down just fine. One of the amputee sprinters, a female with a left below-knee amputation, replied to my question about the degree of her disability that she just had a scratch compared to most of her peers on the track that day. The next time I actually have a bona fide scratch and am tempted to whine and seek pity, I will remember to keep this in perspective.

As for track events that I was able to witness, there were various lengths of wheelchair races, from 100m up to 5000m. I must be a slow learner, because I must have watched this for nearly 5-6 hours before finally noticing the gloved hands of each of the competitors and that many of the gloves were specially made and molded to fit their fisted hands during competition.

The wheelchairs themselves are impressively sleek and compact. I wanted badly to sit in one and get the feel of how they operate, but as a severe new-comer to the scene, I decided to wait for another event or opportunity. In addition to wheeling these chairs around the track and all over the stadium during the day of competition, the racers have to haul these things from all over the world in airports and hotels and on buses to reach their competition locations. Most could be seen at some point in their “everyday” chairs, wheeling with one hand and pushing their racing chair in front with the other hand. And I thought hauling my bike around was rather cumbersome.

My favorite events, though it was a close call, were the “ambulatory” races. This classification is for amputees with prosthetics or for athletes with other disabilities that do not confine them to a wheelchair, such as blindness. It was absolutely exhilarating to watch as some of the fastest sprinters in the world whizzed by me on the track with one or two prosthetic legs, one or no arms, or a “guide” runner for those who could not see well enough to run alone. I witnessed many new world records for 100m sprints and even held the starting blocks for one bilateral upper limb amputee from Nigeria who broke the 100m record for his classification. Classifications for the paralympic competitions are based on the athlete’s level of disability, and this “levels the playing field”, so to speak, for who competes with whom. I would explain that further, but I really don’t understand all the classifications yet. Obviously someone with two amputated legs is in a different class from someone with one amputated leg, and the blind or deaf are separated as well, etc. The amputee sprinter in this photo is April Holmes, an American who was present at the competition and won every race I saw her compete in.

After this first initiation into the world of paralympic competition, I must admit that I am completely hooked (if you hadn’t noticed). I’m not only inspired to make the most of every muscle fiber that I am blessed to have, but I am also inspired by their determination and commitment to make the most of every day regardless of whether I am tackling a physical, mental, or emotional challenge. I do not even begin to yet understand the daily challenges that these fine athletes face, along with their less athletic peers, just to dress, shower, eat, go to the bathroom – all of the things that I take for granted as I gripe and complain about whatever happens to be my topic of choice for the day. The bottom line is, regardless of whether we walk, roll, or crawl through this world with a disability, none of us are home. We were not created for this world as it exists today, with pain and suffering and anger and frustration and disappointment, with missing limbs and atrophied muscles or with broken hearts. We were created for something so much better, a perfect place in which we are in perfect relationship with our creator. And we will one day be there again. But until then, we must face each day with courage and with determination, and we must help each other remember that our home will be there waiting for us when these days pass. I applaud the paralympic athletes who I had the pleasure of watching and meeting for demonstrating that resolve.

Photos above are from: http://howtoadapt.com/RacingWheelchair/RacingWheelchair.shtml and http://www.usolympicteam.com/paralympics/news_47603.htm