Tricia Downing - Cycle of Hope: My Journey from Paralysis to Possibility

Copyright 2010 and 2017 by Tricia Downing.

All rights reserved.

First edition published by Authority Publishing in2010

Reissued 2nd edition by Front Street Press 2017

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Library of Congress Control Number: 2016961158

Downing, Tricia, Author

Cycle of Hope: A Journey from Paralysis toPossibility

eISBN 978-0-9984302-2-5

Physical book:

BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Sports

SPORTS & RECREATION / Disability Sports

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For those who have accompanied me along the way...

... suffering produces endurance, and enduranceproduces character, and character produces hope and hope does notdisappoint us.

Romans 5:3-5

Suffering is but another name for the teaching ofexperience, which is the parent of instruction and the schoolmasterof life.

Horace

I t all happened soquickly. The realization. The impact. The wind knocked out of me.And then screaming from above. I couldnt see the faces, but Icould feel the tension in the air. What just happened?

I lay on the ground, flat on my back, unableto move. Nothing was there holding me down, but when I tried to getmy legs to bend, my quads to tighten, or my ankles to rollnothinghappened.

Two women rushed to the scene and kneeledover me as I looked up from the ground, fear rushing through myveins. I was fighting against the pain and shock as one asked,What is your name?

With barely a breath, I whispered,Trish.

As I was focused on answering the question,the other woman bent down and began to unfasten my helmet.

No! Dont do that! I said with as muchforce as I could muster.

The first woman went back to her line ofquestioning. What day of the week is it?

Sunday, I whispered.

What is your friends name?

Matt.

She continued, What color is yourbike?

That sent me into a tailspin. Mybike, I thought. My brand-new red and yellow bike. Itwas my prized possession.

Earlier that afternoon I had been lookingforward to showing off one of my favorite training rides to myfriend Matt, who was visiting from Pennsylvania. As a competitivecyclist, it was always fun to challenge myself on a ride, but I hadpicked the route for this particular day purely for the goal ofmaking my out-of-town guest suffer in the altitude of the Coloradofoothills. In the sixteen hours we had to kill before I would driveMatt to the airport, we decided to go for a fifty-mile bike ride sohe could sightsee and enjoy the natural beauty of the city ofDenver. And, as had been the case for the past four months sinceacquiring a brand new Giordiana racing bike, I was anxious to takeit out for a spin. The details of what happened next were slowlyfiltering through my mind.

It was a sunny day in autumn. The date wasSeptember 17, 2000, and instead of making preparations to ease intothe cold of another winter, my life was in bloom. I had recentlyreturned from a summer of adventure and excitement, started a newjob and was in the best physical condition of my life.

From my house, we rode down side streets,playing dodge the obstacles as we maneuvered around parked carsand pedestrians. Once we reached the bike path, we were able toride side-by-side. We reminisced about the summer and the fun wehad racing in Wisconsin and at a stage race in Altoona,Pennsylvania. We talked about our plans for the new year and how wewould come back stronger and more focused than ever in the comingseason.

Eventually, the bike path ended and we wereback on the road, heading for the suburbs. We rode in single fileagain, until I felt my bike becoming sluggish and bumpy. I lookedbehind me and saw that I was riding on a flat. Not again! Iexclaimed. I had fixed a flat earlier that morning.

Do you want to turn around? Matt asked.Maybe this isnt your day.

No, its okay. Ill fix it. Lets keepgoing, my pride getting the best of me. I was going to give him arun for his money after my fitness had peaked over my summer ofnon-stop racing. And since Matt wanted to see Denver, I was goingto show him Denver. I wanted him to get a taste of the hills andone of the most stubborn hill climbs I was used to doing with mycycling friends and teammates. I thought what he needed was achallenge and I wasnt going to be defeated in my attempt to impartthe pain. A flat tire wasnt going to stop our ride.

We finished riding through Denver until wecrossed into Golden, and the foot of our destinationLookoutMountain. We settled in our saddles and began the strenuous climb,which ranged from five to seven percent grade and wound its way upthe mountain to 7,500 feet.

As we ascended Lookout, the city fadedbelow. The road curved back and forth like a snake in a series ofswitchbacks. As we climbed, the road below, the houses, cars andall of civilization became miniature. The air got cooler as wepeddled along the tree-lined ribbon of road. Even though the climbis only four miles long, it felt as though we had ridden miles outof town. Finally, we reached the top of the mountain climb and feltthe satisfaction of yet another small achievement on the bike. Itwas one of many workouts to test our bodies and build our fitness.We were fueled by the adrenaline rush of our favorite sport andaddicted to the endorphin high it created. And as we were bothcompetitive cyclists, we knew that although each workout may breakus down at the time, it would ultimately end with a feeling ofaccomplishment and the reward of increased physical gain.

As I looked down over the city and across tothe mountains, I felt like I was on top of the world. The onlything I could see in front of me was possibility. I felt, in thatmoment, invincible. Atop the section of climb we had conquered, welooked out at a turquoise blue Colorado sky, unmarked by anybillowy white clouds, and the sun shone on our already tan faces.This is what we lived for and as I took in a deep breath, feelingthe crisp autumn air draw into my lungs, I thought,