First 5 k!
In June of 2013, I heard about a special jogging chair that would allow my son Alex to experience the fun of running.
Through a connection, I learned about Ainsley’s Angels and a gentleman who builds specialized running chairs for individuals who would not be able to participate in a road race on their own.
The idea of Alex being able to feel the wind, move quickly, and take part in something like running was exciting.
Here is the post and video from that time:
Alex got in his jogging chair again yesterday after standing first on his tilt table for almost an hour.
He did great.
We made it four laps on the driveway.
I am posting a video that Grace filmed, and she did a fantastic job. In the video, you can see how steep and long our driveway is.
I wanted so badly to go to the track at the school because I knew we could make it quite a distance there. We were both building endurance, little by little.
Alex used his diaphragm pacer only while we were jogging and walking, and he said his breathing felt great. The only time he struggled was when I put him back into his wheelchair. The change in position caused the struggle, so I knew that next time I would need to put his wheelchair into a more reclined position before transferring him back.
We were making progress.
Again, thank you to everyone who donated to help us get the chair, to those who prayed and offered words of encouragement, to Ainsley’s Angels for the amazing work they do to promote inclusion, and to Team Hoyt for inspiring so many people to get out there, run, feel the wind, and just move.
Here is the video:
One year later, after a lot of practice, patience, and hard work, Alex and I were able to complete our first 5K race.
That was a huge milestone for both of us.
For Alex, it was a chance to participate in something that many people may never imagine possible for someone with his level of injury and medical complexity.
For me, it was another reminder that inclusion is not just about being present somewhere. It is about finding ways for a person to really experience life, movement, community, and joy in a way that works for them.
Alex did not run that race on his own legs, but he absolutely participated.
He felt the movement.
He felt the wind.
He was part of the crowd, the energy, the goal, and the finish.
That mattered.
Sometimes progress looks like therapy appointments, medical routines, or hard recovery work. But sometimes progress looks like four laps on a driveway, a daughter filming from nearby, a jogging chair, and a boy getting to feel the wind and smell the air because he was using his disphram pacer only.
And sometimes, one year later, it looks like crossing the finish line of a 5K together with Wendy, our friend, Alex’s physical therapist, and one who had been walking the journey with us.
