I had been wondering for some time, what would be the limit of one’s takeaway where one could no longer feel happy and alive. No longer being a force in my sport was a shock, but ultimately, passed without much feeling of loss of myself. All physical things were slowly getting harder, but I was getting it done. I always thought that when I would lose the ability to walk, that would be the unbearable thing.
I spent a sleepless night after the Cardinals game on Thursday. We had to walk a block and a half to the car, after a fair bit of walking already. I tired, and it became impossible. I was starting to hit the ground. Without help, I wasn’t going anywhere.
The next morning, with places to go and things to do, I realized that I was stuck in a bubble. My world had just gotten very small. Of course this wasn’t a pleasant thing, but as with all things in life, acceptance and moving on is a skill that gets better with practice. What else can you do, feeling sorry for yourself is unhelpful, I’ve tried it.
My plan for Friday had been to go to Gateway Int. Speedway and watch the Indy car time trials and spend as much time in the pits as possible. In the new reality, and without a mental change, this was impossible.
Getting into the wheelchair was incredibly hard. I felt a terrible sense of embarrassment. It felt so incredibly weird and unpleasant. It didn’t take long, however, for the positive side of this to take effect. My world had just expanded again. I got to spend a good evening with good people doing exactly what I wanted.
PS Did I mentioned that I spent three years of my life racing dirt track stock cars back in the 80’s? Still have to get little brags in.
So what is the lower limit? I’ll let you know when I find it. I do fear that there is one though.
Thank you brother, love you. Keep growing.
Thanks for that, David. Many thanks!