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Christopher Waddell
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Chris broke his back in a skiing accident on December 20, 1988 while a member of the Middlebury College ski team. He was 20 years old. After two months in the hospital he returned to Middlebury for the spring semester. Three days short of the accident's first anniversary, he started to ski in a monoski--okay, ski might be a bit of a stretch, he started to fall down in a monoski. Within two years, he was named to the US Disabled Ski Team.
During his career he won more Paralmypic skiing medals (12) than any man in history. In 1994, he swept all four (slalom, giant slalom, super G, and downhill) events at the Paralympics in Lillehammer, Norway. In all, Chris competed in four winter Paralympics (Albertville, Lillehammer, Nagano, and Salt Lake City), yet he was also part of a select handful who competed in both the winter and summer Games, where he competed in three Paralympics (Atlanta, Sydney, and Athens). He won a silver medal in the 200 meters wheelchair racing in Sydney, and also won the 200 meters at the World Championships in Birmingham, England, joining a very elite group to win World Championships in a summer and winter sport.
In addition to his competition, Chris co-founded the Sarah Will and Chris Waddell Instructional Monoski Camp, which provided the starting ground for many future members of the US Disabled Ski Team, and others who just wanted to enjoy the sport more. He graduated from Middlebury with a degree in International Politics and Economics, acted in the soap opera "Loving," and was one of People Magazine's "50 Most Beautiful People" in 1998. He moved to Park City prior to the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics and Paralymics, though he grew up in Massachusetts.
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Recent Posts by Christopher Waddell
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Christopher Waddell
Posted project update #6Summit
Hello all,
Thanks so much for all of your support. It was a disappointment not to reach our fundraising goals on Kickstarter, but looking back they might have been a bit too lofty. Despite not reaching our goals here, we were able to make the climb and we have some wonderful footage that will become an entertaining and meaningful movie. We were also able to donate wheelchairs and handcycles to people in Africa, as well purchase a prosthetic leg to assist Tajiri, the first Tanzanian leg amputee to reach the summit.
We had great coverage from CBS Sunday Evening News three Sundays in a row during the trip. If you would like to see the footage, photos or the daily blogs from the mountain--some of which were texted from above 17,000 feet, please visit our website: www.one-revolution.org. It was a great journey or safari as they say in Swahili.
Though reaching the top of the tallest freestanding mountain in the world was the moment of a lifetime, our work is just beginning. Our goals have been visibility and opportunity. We have a great start, but now we approach the most difficult and expensive part, turning the footage that CBS called "amazing" into an equally amazing film that tells the story of how despite shortcomings, we find it within ourselves to achieve amazing things, and how people like Tajiri, who thought much of his life had ended when he lost his leg in a rock slide on the mountain, can change the lives of so many others when given a helping hand.
Thanks for all of your help. I hope that we can count on you as fans as One Revolution attempts to create social change one revolution at a time.
All my best,
Chris
www.one-revolution.org -
Christopher Waddell
Posted project update #5The Hill Climb
So maybe I didn't need to have such a bad night's sleep last night. I came into this race thinking that I could win--thinking that we could demonstrate some of the progress that we'd made with the vehicle, but when I looked at the competitors, they all looked so strong. I realized it wouldn't be so easy. Everyone pointed to the one hour mark for the hill climb. That would be a solid time. The record was 59:45. I secretly hoped for 50:00.
At a little after 10 o'clock, we started the hill climb as an individual time trial with one minute intervals between the athletes. I started 8th, eight minutes behind the first athlete. The first hill was the steepest on the course. I caught three on that first hill, though Jake, the local guy, passed me back and kept a pace that hurt me. Slowly, I moved past him, and then caught the other two athletes at about the one-third mark. At the lead of the pack, I only needed to worry about the two athletes who started behind me, particularly Drew Wills, who was widely seen as the strongest in the field. Dave Penney hiked alongside me as he often does on our training runs, though this time he told me that he didn't expect me to answer his questions. That didn't however, stop him from pushing me along by telling me that first Jake and then Drew were closing.
As I took the last turn, Dave said, "I can't believe how fast Drew was in that section. You'd better pick it up." I tried desperately to pick it up. I shifted into a bigger gear. The speed didn't seem to come. My breath caught in my adam's apple. I thought, I can make it to the finish without breathing, but I really just wanted to stop and breathe. I didn't. I struggled for more speed, hoping to breakthrough the pain, that continued to build. The finish line refused to come. I tried to convince myself to measure my strength past the crest of the hill that I knew to be the finish. If I could just convince myself to go further maybe I could make the finish line. I was never convinced, but I did make the line, at which point I hurt too much to drink anything. If I hadn't hurt so much I would have felt self-conscious of my violent, heaving gasps for breath in the midst of the organizers and support crew at the top.
I could only wait for Drew to finish. He'd started two minutes behind me. I'd lost track of time after my finish. From Dave's updates along the climb, I expected Drew to follow right behind me. I hadn't even looked back after crossing the line. As the pain settled, I agreed to take a cool down spin. Drew finished as I looped on a trail opposite the finish. I cheered for him because I knew how tough that final section had been, but I didn't know for sure who had won until I finished my cool down lap. Surprisingly, the final climb to the finish lost all of its teeth as I approached it for the second time. There I learned that I'd beaten Drew by almost a minute thirty. I'd also broken the existing record by more than ten minutes. Jake finished third in 58:16. All three of us broke the old record.
Today's race forced me to go much faster than I've gone in training. Stretching myself beyond my level of comfort--pushing through the pain--might well help me when I get to Kili, but the real point is how the sport of off-road handcycling is beginning to grow. Many are riding far more challenging trails. We're pedaling faster. We're all making improvements to the vehicles. In short, we're expecting more and we want more, which means that more and more records will fall.
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Christopher Waddell
Posted project update #4World Off-Road Handcycling Championships
I came to Crested Butte for the Championships to learn from other off-road handcyclists, and there's quite a group to learn from. It's the biggest field that they've ever had in the four (I'm pretty sure of that) years of the event. Fifteen competitors will toe the line (proverbially speaking obviously), in a little under two hours. The field will include a couple of the top road handcyclists in the country, a local, technical/rough terrain expert, a couple of the leading adventurists, a couple of women, one of whom is on the US Adaptive Nordic Team and reported to be really fast, some super fast guys who have done the event every year, and possibly the defending champion. As you can see, everyone is something else first--the mark of a new and exciting sport. It's gaining interest with the gaining numbers, but to me the most important part is that it's gaining the perspective of so many different experiences. I'd imagine when the gun goes off that there will be a variety of different approaches, and that's exactly what I want to see. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't nervous, I am. The juices are flowing. It's a competition and I really have absolutely no idea how I'll do. I arrived with grand hopes. Those have been tempered, but sometimes competing without expectations--competing blind--is the most fun because my only tactic is to give it everything I have and see if it was good enough. I'm off for the approximately two-mile uphill time trial that will gain about 1000 feet of vertical. Thanks for your support.
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Christopher Waddell
Posted project update #3A little competition
As I drive to Crested Butte, Colorado, a seven-hour drive, the sun drops but my thermometer still registers 93. For some aspens on the hills, summer green has already drained to yellow. While still hot, the air is thin, asexual, inert, after the fecund spring and summer. Fall is coming. I’m headed back to training, and to the World Off-Road Hancycling Championships over Labor Day weekend.
It’s been an interesting week, which saw me depart Crested Butte after cracking the frame on my climbing vehicle. I trained on the road in my racing chair, drove eight hours round trip to get another vehicle up and running, which unfortunately, didn’t work out, but now I’m back and the climbing rig is repaired. Not only will I train, but I’ll also compete in the Championships.
I’ve never competed on a handcycle. In fact, I haven’t seen another off-road handcyclist in years, throughout which my times have dropped consistently, but that’s an isolated perspective. I look forward to seeing and learning from the others. There’s also a bit of nervousness. This is competition after all. Even though I really only have one speed—found from hours long climbs—I’m a competitor, and as such I wonder if I’ll be faster or slower.
I know that I’m significantly faster in my four-wheeler than I am in the three-wheeler, which all of the other competitors will use. I see the competition as a proof of vehicle more than anything. If I’m faster, it means that I will have a better chance on Kili—one more positive sign. Plus, competition will push me to ratchet a little more from my one speed. Maybe I’ll breakthrough to something a little faster. After an eventful week of broken equipment and too much driving I’ll see if I have really come as far as I thought. The ripe summer drains into the yellow leaved fall, yet I wonder if I’m just starting to grow?
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Christopher Waddell
Posted project update #2Emerging from the rainforest
When I qualified for my first Paralympics in 1992, I had this amazing sense of liberation. I wasn’t supposed to make the team. My coach had prepared me for the disappointment from the very first day of the season, but I somehow squeaked onto the squad, and when I squeaked on I felt like all the work was done. Making the team was the hard part. The Games were time to enjoy the fruits of my labors. It was the most free I’d ever felt at a ski race. I wasn’t bound by expectations or worry. I won silver medals in both of my races, the slalom and GS, beating many athletes I’d never beaten.
What does 1992 have to do with climbing Kilimanjaro? It has everything to do with it. Throughout this project, I’ve felt like we could only be successful if I could make it to the summit. The summit is our goal and, it’s not our goal. We want to create change. We want the world to see people with disabilities. We want to create a voice that can be heard. And we want to achieve integration. We have grand plans beyond the climb, but I often felt that they were tenuous. At many junctures, it seemed that the fabric of the climb, the film, the wheelchair and handcycle donation, and our educational program could unravel in an instant.
Like those first Games in 1992, I can’t change what I’ve done to this point and I can’t transform myself in the few weeks that remain, and I can’t really worry anymore. A friend likened my present state to my ascent of the mountain. All the preparation—all the struggle—all the proverbial mountains that we’ve climbed—they were the rain forest—the first day of the climb. Now, I’m emerging from the rainforest and I can see the peak for the first time. She said she envisioned me getting lighter and lighter as I climbed to the peak. I can understand her vision. As we approach the actual climb, I feel far more relaxed. Obviously, I’m shooting for the top, but there’s joy in knowing that I can never be completely prepared. That joy means that I’ll need to get the best from what I have and it usually leads to great results.
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Christopher Waddell
Posted project update #1Altitude
Altitude will provide one of my biggest challenges on Kilimanjaro. We called our project One Revolution because that was my equivalent of most hikers at altitude. For the hikers, it’s literally one step, catch your breath, take another step. For me, instead of one step, it’s one revolution of the cranks. I also have to admit that the name seemed kind of poetic in that something so small as one revolution could lead to the top of the mountain—and that we’re looking to create change, thus our One Revolution.
I don’t know how my body will react at 19,000 feet. I do know that I will be working really hard. In an effort to mitigate some of the altitude effects, I’ve been training with my expedition manager, Dave Penney, in his hometown of Crested Butte, Colorado, 9000 feet in town and 14,000 foot mountains out the back door. Hopefully, training in Crested Butte will minimize the effects of altitude as I climb Kili.
I will be back in Crested Butte starting on Monday and will compete in the Off-Road Handcycling World Championships there over Labor Day Weekend. I’ve trained a lot, but have little experience with other off-road handcyclists. I’m intrigued to see where I sit, and to learn from the other competitors. The Championships should be a fun event and a good test of my preparation before I leave for Kilimanjaro.
Park City, UT