Because of my accreditation work in Seattle last week, I stayed in a Capital Hill hotel. One of the nights, I found my way to the gym facilities and jumped on the tread mill. Ten minutes into my run, I noticed a very fit man with walking sticks enter the small room. In the mirror, I could see that he gently placed his sticks in the corners as he took off his coat. I first imagined his walking sticks were for a rigorous workout, but now I could see that they were necessary for his balance. He was very awkward as he navigated between the various pieces of equipment, and I asked him if he needed help. "Not now, but maybe later," he responded. A few seconds later, as he tried to get on the elliptical, he said with a smile, "Now would be good." I jumped off and steadied his hand as he placed one leg onto the machine and then the other.  

His upper body strength was tremendous, pushing him into a pretty serious pace. Now, side by side, our "I just met you in a strange city" banter ensued: You work in Seattle?  Tacoma, how far away is that?  I would love to get to Austin.  Kids? "Do you mind me asking, after your workout, will you be able to walk off the machine, or should I stay?" "If you don't mind staying for another ten minutes, I could probably use your help." 

He slowed down (and I was definitely ready to stop) when he said, "Hard to believe, but I was a triathlete competing all over the country. It was in part why I ended up in Austin. Three days after my last race, I felt tingling in my feet. Weeks later, I was in a wheelchair unable to use my legs. It's been a long trial since. You asked what brings me to Seattle. I have a chance to be in a special program at the University of Washington Hospital, but they only take people who are ambulatory. It is what has driven me since I landed in that wheelchair. For some time, I felt defeated-dead- but now I rise out of bed and get on with my life."  

He reached out his hand, and said, "My name's Rick." I said, "Mine's Chris." I felt like Easter had come a few days early.

I hope that your Easter brought an "alleluia" to your lips.

peace,

Chris