After my wreck in 1991 and release from inpatient care, I started outpatient therapy. It didn’t take long to see they wanted me to accept life in a chair. I couldn’t. I quit and built my own therapy. I taught myself how to walk further, move my arms again, regain grip, even drive my pickup. In the mountains, I found cutting firewood was my key. What began slow became a grind that gave me back strength, until I almost had a running gait. Over eight years I rewrote my future. Today I stand as the