Hurdles. I have experience running with them on the track. Jumping over these waist high obstacles is especially difficult in the rain, with puddles collecting under my feet. I begin to realize the fatigue in my legs, and before I know it, I’m picking myself up off the ground only to meet the next hurdle in hopes of crossing the finish line. Crying. Quitting. Embarrassment. Escaping these defeating notions, I envision clearing hurdles, both physically and mentally, with one foot missing. Why?
Bernard is his name. I typically see him three days a week, although I could see him six if I made it a point. We first met in a class that my friend LeAnn and I affectionately call “torture” class. If losing two inches off my waist and shedding five pounds in a month is the result of my perceived agony, I’ll take it – and I do, willingly for one hour every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Sometimes, in this group class, I want to give up on an exercise, waiting for the time to run out until we move on to a new, easier challenge. Then, I hear Bernard calling my name. Pointing at me and eyes engaging my inner strength, he tells me to keep going; not to give up. I listen, and keep pushing on.
When you meet Bernard, you will notice that seemingly everyone who walks the floors of The Wellness Center knows him. Saying hi as they pass by, or stopping to talk with him, Bernard is a beloved member of the gym. Over the past ten years, Bernard has transformed his body by losing 150 pounds. This, alone, is reason enough to pin him as my gym hero. What makes Bernard a true source of inspiration is something you won’t see.
A towering muscular presence squatting, lifting, and pressing his way through the torture class, it’s hard to believe Bernard when he tells me he first entered The Wellness Center in a wheel chair. More than ten years ago, Bernard experienced one of the most severe forms of torture I can imagine. His foot was cut off by a machine in a tragic work-related accident. While we squat around the room, he points, “I was here, and my foot was there. It was completely cut off.” Looking at his pant-covered legs, I ask, “You have a prosthetic?” “My foot was surgically reconnected to my leg,” he explains. Bernard gained 95 pounds following his accident and battled with emotions of defeat. His recovery started in a wheel chair, transitioned to a cane, and now he walks. Bernard’s story is hidden behind a bright cheerful face, lean muscular build, and determination.
I look down at my shoes, and think if Bernard could cross his hurdles with one working foot, I certainly can do it with two.
Tags: The Wellness Center
