It was seven months after I moved from Ottawa, Canada to the good ole US of A -- Austin, Texas to be exact -- that I ended up in a wheelchair. Life couldn't have been better. I was 28 years old, working for a great software company, kickboxing 40 rounds per week, and chillin' out in the sun 300 days a year.

It was November 24, 1999 that I took off to San Diego, the land of beautiful waves, for a four-day surfing adventure. I had planned the trip several weeks before for my first American Thanksgiving weekend, and now the date had arrived. I couldn't have been more excited since it had been about a year-and-a-half since I'd danced on the waves. I wish I could tell you that the trip went without glitches, but then you wouldn't be reading this article, if it had.

I had caught several waves at Pacific Beach (PB) that day before trouble arrived. I began to feel a little "numb" but that is standard stuff really when you are surfing in 55 F water. In fact, most of the local surfers only stay out an hour at a time, because it's so cold, even with a wetsuit. I had already been out there a good hour-and-a-half and planned to catch as many waves as possible that weekend. So, though I was having difficulty feeling my feet, I soaked it up, paddled out and caught another wave. I timed it perfectly, hopped up, and felt almost a "pop" in my lower back, nothing traumatic, but enough to make me wipe out. It was at that point that I decided to take a breather and go into shore and warm up. I lied in the sand and hoped that my feet would come back, but they never did. In fact, I got up to clean the sand off after lying there several minutes and fell down. I staggered down to the water like I was drunk and could no longer stand by myself. Onlookers saw what was happening and the next thing I know I'm in emergency. It probably wasn't more than 2 hours before I was paralyzed at T11.

The next few days were a blur. My mom and dad got that fateful call in Canada and, of course, my mom thought "why does he have to do all that crazy stuff" (surfing, snowboarding, kickboxing, rock-climbing)? Of course, they didn't know at that time that it wasn't so traumatic.

I guess it was about a week before they moved me out of emergency and into rehab, Scripp's Memorial to be exact. By the way, my mom had arrived as soon as she could and either my mom or dad never left my side until my return to Canada, which was a month later when I got out. All the staff at Scripps was fantastic. At that time I wasn't ready to accept anything to do with being in a wheelchair so when the physical therapists (PTs) told me that life is not over and there are plenty of great wheelchair sports, I'm like, "Yeah right! How the heck will I ever kickbox again?"

It was December 24th, my birthday, that I got out of rehab. I flew back to Canada with my dad and I don't think I need to tell you how horrible Christmas was for me and the family. I also can't tell you that I didn't suffer from depression for the first few months. I had never spent a day in the hospital and now my life seemed to be pretty much over.

I'm proud to say that those negative thoughts didn't last very long. I've always been a warrior and nothing will change that! I knew the best thing for me was to get back to Austin with the warm weather. My body just doesn't seem to be good with the cold weather now. So, I moved back to Austin less than a month after being home in Canada. Work had been so supportive (and continues to be) and that made my life so much easier. The president of our company even flew down to see me when I was in rehab.

I started doing home therapy and slowly got back to work and "on my feet" so to speak. I knew I had to stay active since sports have always been a huge part of my life and I've always been in great shape. I think doing crazy stuff keeps me sane. I heard about a sports program through my PT. She said it was St. David's Fitness Center for people with disabilities and that they were always doing crazy stuff.

I went in there over a year ago and said to the dude who appeared to be in charge, "what is the baddest thing I could be doing in a wheelchair?" He told me that triathlons were the way to go and handcycling is the future. I said, "where do I sign up?" That was really the turning point for me. The person I talked to that day was Mike Haynes, the supervisor at the center, and he immediately got me swimming and handcycling.

I'd like to tell you about all of my initial adventures and could probably go on forever, but the length of this article might scare you and you won't read it. As I mentioned, that was a little over a year ago that I started handcycling. I have participated in many cycling events since then. In June, I came in fourth in the handcycling division of the toughest ½ Ironman in the country. This is the qualifier for the full Ironman in Hawaii and is a grueling 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run (push in my case). I have logged many miles and rides since then and am very proud to say that I just won both the 13 km time trial and the 40 km road race by a landslide at the Canadian Cycling Nationals.

I next began preparation for The European Cycling Championships in Zurich, Switzerland. I arrived on September 6th and met the other Canadian team members. We stayed in Zurich until September 12th where we trained on the lovely farm roads everyday, and then proceeded to Neuchatel, a French village about 2.5 hours drive for the actual road competition. I competed in a 12.9 km time trial on September 14th and a 53.2 km road race on September 15th. It was a wonderful experience racing against the best people in the world. After recovering from a wipeout at approximately the 23rd mile by taking a corner a little too fast, I managed to finish 13th, which isn't so bad for the world ranking and my first year of racing.

I certainly learned a lot from the trip. The Europeans are very strong and have a large group. I plan to do at least 100 miles a week here in Austin until the 2002 season begins and then I will be racing probably at least once a month around the country preparing for the World Championships in Germany in August of 2002.

I guess the training in the hills and 100 degree weather is starting to pay off. After all, there is nothing like being in good health. Hopefully, next year I will compete in the Ironman in Hawaii, and then who knows. It's hard to believe that I'm a better swimmer now then before, even without the use of my legs.