After a debilitating accident with a drunk driver left Kim Wedgerfield
contemplating suicide, she found a purpose by dedicating her life to
the gruelling sport of triathlon
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The impact of the collision into the Honda Accord slammed her head
into the steering column with enough force to bend the wheel.
Hit by a drunk driver, injuries to the brain slowed everything on the
right side, forcing her to re-learn virtually everything. Her
children's names. How to make a phone call. How to cut meat. She
couldn't tie her shoelaces.
Well known, well respected, she lost her job as CEO of a Timmins,
Ont., administrative health service specializing in addiction.
She felt lost. Useless. Unsure of her past and afraid of her future.
"I wanted,'' says Kim Wedgerfield, "to die.
"And one day I went out to die. I just . . . couldn't handle it. So I
decided to take my own life. For whatever reason, there wasn't a pulp
truck, there wasn't a logging truck, there wasn't a transport truck to
be found . . . so I just pulled over, started crying and screaming,
'OK, so this isn't what you want.'
"That was 1989.'' For all the solemn, almost mystic, importance we
place upon it, sport, is in actuality a toy-box world in which the
words courage, resilience and fortitude are flung about far too
casually, slotted in far too conveniently.
In Kim Wedgerfield's case, they fit. The lady has overcome so much.
Recently, she snared a silver medal at the ITU World Sprint Triathlon
Championships in Budapest, swimming 750 metres in the Danube using one
arm, biking 20 kilometres pushing with only her left leg and running
the closing 5k with the aid of two canes.
Hers is an almost unbelievable tale of perseverance.
In 2002, more than a decade after that initial crash left her damaged
and despondent, she was diagnosed with Huntington's disease, a
progressive neuro genetic disorder which affects muscle co-ordination
and leads to cognitive decline and dementia. Her father died of the
disease in March.
"Siblings,'' she says, "have died or are dying from it.''
Two years later, while riding her bike, a lady in a car turned left and hit her.
As if that weren't enough, in 2007, a welding truck blew a stop sign
and barrelled into Wedgerfield's van, injuring her spine. She was told
to expect 10 months in hospital, that her days as a disabled athlete
were over. That she might spend the rest of her life confined to a
chair.
To everyone's amazement, in three weeks she had been discharged. Six
weeks after that, she competed in a paratriathlon in Edmonton and
qualified for the world championships in Hamburg, Germany -- sponsored
out of the blue by a good Samaritan, Edmonton accountant Chuck
Amerongen.
"When you're told you've got an illness that's terminal, when you've
been involved in three crashes that have damaged your body and your
brain, you can just sit in a chair and die or you can get up, get
going, and keep active.
"The exercise, the support I get from family, my two kids, and
friends, are what keep me alive.
"I wake each morning, watch the sun rise and thank the Higher Power
Upstairs that I'm still here. If I can inspire, motivate or influence
somebody, even one person, whether they're disabled, sad, have gone
through a trying time, a divorce, a death, that's my goal.
"That's what keeps me trying. Every single day of my life."
She exercises two hours daily, over and above her training schedule
with the Kronos Triathlon Club. Otherwise, she knows the downward
spiral of despair will accelerate and consume her.
"Triathlons, training, the club, the gym, they give me hope and
purpose. Having people cheering, other countries slapping me on the
back, 'Way to go, Canada!' Or, 'Way to go Wedgie!' is such an
incredible feeling."
She can pinpoint the moment following that first, debilitating crash
when she knew that fighting back was the only option.
"I was watching my son play hockey and my adopted daughter was
bouncing on one of the other mom's knees. She looked at me and said,
'I don't want you to adopt me anymore. You can't do anything. I want
her to adopt me.' That hit me right between the eyes. I realized: I
gotta be around for my kids.''
Volunteering at her son's Kids of Steel triathlon training, she
decided to take the swim. "I did it with one arm, came dead last, but
I was hooked.''
Wedgerfield still can't do math, or French. She's a divorced single
mom on a disability pension. But she keeps busy, volunteering at the
food bank, the Crowfoot YMCA, the Calgary Kids of Steel Race, Ironman
organizing committee, with the Huntington's Society. And, of course,
she trains and competes.
"Every time she comes out to practice,'' says Kronos club coach Bart
Ujack, "it's an inspiring moment. Not just the fact that she's doing
these things, just seeing her day in and day out, her 'I'm going to
get better today' attitude, despite all the barriers. She still gets
to practice at 6 in the morning. She still gets to practice at 7:30 at
night. She still trains her butt off. That's pretty inspiring to see,
as her support coach.
"I think she uses this as her Zen place, like, 'this is where I can
release everything, this is my Me place,' where she can come and let
everything out. She can funnel the anger and everything into the
exercise. She gets clarity from it, rather than kicking herself or
getting angry at other people.
"Kim doesn't just compete in triathlon. She lives triathlon. The way
she's immersed herself in the culture, volunteering, being with the
other athletes, is, I think, a big support system for her.''
A favourite race? That's an easy call. The world championships in
Lausanne, Switzerland.
"It was on my 48th birthday, and I won gold for Canada. All the
para-athletes were in the water singing 'happy birthday' to me. During
the run, people from Australia, from Italy, from New Zealand were
slapping me on the back. One guy stopped to hug me. As I reached the
finish line, a fellow from the States was all set to pass me, Vinnie
Monso, but instead he put his arm out and down and let me cross first.
I cried a lot that day.
"For me, that was THE race. I never wanted it to end.''
She's hoping triathlon is accepted this December as an exhibition
sport on the Paralympic calendar for 2012 in London.
"My goal, my dream is to make it to London. I'm 52, and if I don't get
there I'll still be very happy with what I've accomplished. I still
want to see Canada send a team, with representation of young
paratriathletes from Alberta, from Calgary.
"But to be able to go myself and compete, the old lady . . . that
would be the cat's meow."
When asked for one word to describe Kim Wedgerfield, Ujack takes a
moment to consider the limitless options.
"Unstoppable,'' he finally replies. "Statistically speaking, she
shouldn't be here. And she is. Not only is she here, she's getting
better and fitter and stronger. She won't quit, no matter what
obstacles are thrown up at her.
"So, yeah, unstoppable. "That's my word.''
A lovely sentiment. Even if no one is literally unstoppable. The lady
herself understanding the frailty of life and health far better than
most.
"Ninety-nine per cent of the time, I'm OK,'' she says. "I can handle
this. Then there are the bad days, when it all just seems so
overwhelming, when I think: 'This is too scary.' I get frightened
about where the Huntington's is leading. How my body is feeling.
"But I just gather myself, and say 'OK, suck it up princess. Let's get
going.' And I do. I have no choice.
"Because I've got a lot of life left to live. Because I'm not ready to
die yet.''
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