From a Life-Shattering Injury to Reclaiming the Outdoors
After his Jiu-Jitsu instructor broke his neck, leaving him quadriplegic, he turned to adaptive sports and the outdoors to reclaim movement, purpose, and community.
Story by Tommy Corey
Photography by Tommy Corey
Approaching 1 pm on a Saturday in late November, I found myself getting ready for my weekly Jiu-Jitsu practice. I had been dedicating myself to the art of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for a year and a half, and this particular session marked the beginning of events that would reshape my connection with the outdoors, my body, and my life.
During that fateful practice, my Jiu-Jitsu instructor forcibly broke my neck, leaving me a walking quadriplegic with incomplete paralysis at the C4 and C5 vertebrae. Subsequently, a hemorrhagic stroke struck about 12 hours later due to internal bleeding, inducing me into a two-and-a-half-week coma. Upon waking, my only means of communication was blinking through an alphabet board, a method I relied on for about a week before regaining the strength to speak.
Afterward, I was transferred to Craig Hospital in Denver, spending four months grappling with the emotional and physical impacts of my newfound disability. Post-recovery, I faced the stark reality of life without a driver's license and the limitations it imposed on my outdoor activities. However, a pivotal moment arose through a seemingly ordinary social media post seeking guidance on returning to the outdoor spaces that once defined my life.
“I surfed. I ran up mountains for fun before I got hurt, but I'm at a loss for words and a loss of direction for what I can do with this newly disabled body." This inquiry became a turning point, with many people offering advice on adaptive sports, the first of which was rock climbing.
The response was transformative, introducing me to adaptive sports and providing a glimmer of hope for a return to activities I thought were forever altered.
Most outdoor sports now unfold in slow motion for me due to the constant struggle within my body. The misfiring of muscle groups makes rapid movements a challenge, rendering running and swimming impossible. However, I've found solace and logic in activities like rock climbing, appreciating their slow and methodical nature, and providing a sense of control. Similarly, cycling aligns with my capabilities, allowing me to keep pace with able-bodied individuals.
My disability extends beyond the physical realm, encompassing the emotional toll of managing the judgments of strangers. The gray area of my disability, a blend of visible and invisible, presents a unique challenge as I navigate the need to articulate my disability, confronting understanding and ignorance equally.
Now, five years post-incident, I reflect on my disability, acknowledging that I would never wish such a fate even upon my worst enemy. Despite the challenges, the intentional approach I take to my time spent outdoors with others brings me solace.
Community is crucial to me, providing joy and freedom because, disabled or not, we're all there for the same thing. I'm incredibly grateful for that. Through my outdoor engagements, I've developed profound empathy, gaining a heightened understanding of others' struggles. This empathy becomes the cornerstone of community, essential for shared adventures, understanding, and collective support.
True community, as I've come to realize, is impossible without empathy. The shared outdoors, marked by intentionality and compassion, becomes a conduit for creating a broader, more diverse experience within the community—an valuable realization that I cherish deeply.
My disability, as stressful as it can be, fosters a more present experience for both myself and those involved. We all recognize that we are truly there for the same thing, even if we may go about it differently. At the end of the day, we're sharing this outdoors experience, and that's what truly matters.
Keep Reading
