What do you do when you’re
16, training for a career as a professional motocross
rider, and you collide with another rider at high speed?
When you’re ejected headfirst over your handlebars into
an embankment and feel your spine snap? What do you do
when you’re lying in the dirt . . . when you can’t feel
your legs . . . when you know something’s terribly wrong
. . . when you overhear the paramedics call in your
prognosis? What do you do when you’re young and healthy
and the body you’ve always taken for granted is broken?
Do you give up? Do you give in?
If you’re Ricky James, you set goals. And then you set
about meeting them.
Immediately after the accident, Ricky’s parents began
looking into getting him an FES cycle. After extensive
research, they decided on the RT300 as the best option
for the son that would settle for nothing less for his
young life than everything. Now Ricky aims to use the
RT300 three times a week for an hour, but that goal is
sometimes superseded by his other training. As much as
he appreciates the physical benefits of the cycle, he’s
not shy about saying the RT300 “isn’t exactly fun.” He’d
much rather be outside working on his back flip into a
foam pit (if you think a back flip is impossible for a
paraplegic, you haven’t met Ricky). But it keeps his
legs healthy and toned so he can work his upper body to
the full capacity of a driven 20-year-old. It balances
out his hard-core training, making his fitness program a
complete package. After an hour on the RT300, he knows
he’s gotten a cardio workout because he’s winded—not a
casual endorsement for someone as fit as Ricky. He
insists the RT300 has improved his life, prepared him
for his other pursuits, made him more capable of
achieving his other goals. And Ricky has a lot of goals.
Today, four years after his accident, Ricky is a typical
20 something young man. He hems and haws and “ums.” He’s
unimpressed by a Hawaiian vacation: “it’s pretty but
boring. That’s why they all surf.” And he’s back on his
bike. Specially outfitted, it allows him to use all the
factors required to win, even if his legs aren’t part of
the equation. Ricky has also started to purse a career
as a professional auto racer. Armed with the powerful
motto of “perseverance,” Ricky participates in 14 races
a year, more than most able-bodied athletes.
Disappointed by his 6th place showing in his first
marathon (mere mortals would be happy just to finish),
Ricky decided to set himself a seemingly impossible
goal: the 140.6 mile Ironman Triathlon in Kona, Hawaii.
For the uninitiated, a triathlon is a race against the
clock in consecutive long-distance swimming, cycling,
and running. And the Ironman Triathlon is the most
prestigious competition of them all. Swimming 2.4 miles
in the open ocean, battered by punishing winds and hot
weather on a 112 mile hand-cycle ride, most participants
consider it a triumph just to finish. But only those who
make it over the finish line within the cutoff time can
officially hold the title of “Ironman.”
As part of his training, Ricky rode 150 miles a week on
his hand cycle. He swam hundreds of laps a week. He
pushed his racing chair for 30 miles. He willed and
worked his body into better shape than before he was
hurt. And he avoided the couch at all costs.
In his typically understated way, Ricky called the
Ironman “pretty brutal.” But he finished it in 12 hours,
44 minutes—making the cutoff time and allowing him to
add “Ironman” to his list of accomplishments. Crossing
the finish line “felt like a dream,” he says, after
training so hard and picturing it so often. “That was my
main goal last year and I did it.”
Moving on: this year’s goal is to design, implement, and
master the controls on his late-model racecar. When he
takes to the asphalt, he’ll be up against mostly
able-bodied opponents—a challenge he relishes. “It’s a
level playing field out there. It’s like I don’t have a
disability, It feels good not to have an excuse.”
There is one goal that’s been put on hold for the
moment: a career as a motivational speaker. Right now
Ricky wants to move, train, ride, and race—not speak
about something that’s supposed to stop him. But should
he ever have time for a speaking gig, Ricky has a few
words of advice for those recently diagnosed: “Set goals
right away. Keep your mind occupied. See it as a
challenge. Work toward something rather than getting
lost . . . And right now, working hard is all I know.”
