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Welcome to the adaptive sports edition of Accessible Journeys. As someone who frequently tests the limits of their life insurance policy, it feels fitting to share my personal experiences with you. That said, I must admit I was initially hesitant to accept the role of guest editor. Why? Because I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared for the backlash that may come from sharing my views on sports and travel. While systemic changes are certainly needed, my own experiences and approach to travel often differ from the narratives I see online. I worry that responses like “How dare you?” or “How would you feel if this happened to you?” will inevitably follow.
The reality is: I’ve flown more times than I can count. I’m a Delta Million Miler and have achieved Diamond Tier status for several consecutive years. Despite flying multiple times a week over several years, I’ve never had my wheelchair damaged. Because of the number of flights, it won’t surprise you that I’ve also earned lifetime status with Marriott. Yes, I’ve been assigned the occasional inaccessible room—such as those with beds too high for me to transfer into—but I’ve always found a way to overcome these obstacles. So, when someone asks me what it’s like to travel in a wheelchair, I tell them that my experiences, while different, are no worse than those of able-bodied travelers. We all face challenges on the road, just of different kinds.
As I began drafting this foreword, I wrote several versions, each trying to consider a range of disabilities. It quickly became clear that I cannot speak for everyone, as my perspective as a C6 quadriplegic will inevitably differ from the experiences of others reading this. This realization led me to shift my focus: How can my experience be relevant to you? And once again, I was reminded of the enormity of the challenge that accessibility poses. We all seek accessibility tailored to our individual needs, often without fully grasping the vast scope of what true accessibility entails and the multitude of factors that must be addressed.
However, I would be remiss to not remark that after 30 years in a wheelchair, I am genuinely impressed by the progress that has been made. The world has become far more accessible than it once was, and change is happening. Do I think the work is done? Absolutely not. Do I believe we must continue striving for a more inclusive society? Without a doubt. Yet even as this evolution continues, I refuse to wait passively for the world to be perfectly accessible before I engage with it. While the path forward may not always be easy, I encourage you to adopt the mindset of an explorer: to embrace new challenges, venture into unfamiliar territory, and plan as best you can, knowing that things might not go exactly as intended. This uncertainty, after all, is not unique to those with disabilities. When was the last time someone shared their greatest adventure without also telling you about an unexpected twist?
Am I beyond the emotion of frustration or anger? Far from it. I have my moments. But I believe that even when life turns out different than what you’ve planned, it’s always better to try and fail than to wonder what could have been.
When I travel, I rely on a few core principles:
– Plan meticulously. The more you know, the fewer surprises you’ll encounter.
– Take control. Don’t expect others to anticipate your needs. They will try to help based on their limited experience, but only you know what truly works for you.
– Stay calm and present. Rushing only exacerbates issues.
– Don’t take setbacks personally. People generally try their best, even if their best falls short.
– Embrace unpredictability. Something will inevitably go wrong. Take a breath, adapt, and turn it into an opportunity for something new.
These same principles apply to adaptive sports. As individuals with disabilities, we all have unique challenges, and there is no one-size-fits-all solution. Yet by applying these five beliefs, I’ve surprised even myself with what I’ve accomplished: completing 12 marathons in 12 months, becoming the world’s only quadriplegic rescue scuba diver, and racing cars. None of it has been easy, but all of it has been possible.
So, as you read the following pages, think creatively. Know that all perspectives are individual, but each individual has plotted their own course. Think about all the ways what you read can work for you. And maybe be excited to fail. Because I guarantee with that mindset, you won’t.
Read about Torsten and his Just Hands Foundation here.
