On Letting Go
Runner Elena Congost and uide Mia Carol
By Rick Rader, MD, FAAIDD, FAADM, Editor-in-chief, Helen Journal
Youngsters from the school yards of Brooklyn to the dirt fields in Kenya, to the desert plateaus in Chile, all imagine competing in the Olympics.
Considering the global population of 8.1 billion people, the probability of becoming an Olympian is staggering small. Only about 0.0000017% of the world’s population, or 1 in 500,000 people, will make it to the Olympics.
Years ago, youngsters with disabilities stood or sat on the sidelines of those schoolyards, dirt fields or deserts with little chance of being picked to play with their friends. Beyond the occasional “pity pick” they were relegated to the sidelines. The creation of Special Olympics in 1968 provided an opportunity to change the landscape and gave them the chance to become Olympians.
“Sometimes you have to let go to see if there was anything worth holding onto.”
There is evidence of people with a disability participating in sport as early as the 18th and 19th centuries and sport activities were instrumental in the rehabilitation of people with a disability. It is believed that the first International Silent Games were held in Paris in 1924. This was the earliest international sports competition for people with disabilities and still exists today.
According to the International Paralympic Committee, the first Paralympic Games in Rome in 1960 featured 400 athletes from 23 countries. The Games are now the second biggest sporting event in the world. The Paralympic Games grew out of the observations of Sir Ludwig Guttmann, a physician in charge of the clinic for paralyzed World War 2 British soldiers. Guttmann watched them organize impromptu “kickball” in their wheelchairs. In 1944, he organized a sports competition featuring disabled archers. It is noteworthy that the name Paralympic is not a reference to “paralyzed or paralysis.” The term “para” comes from the Greek preposition “para” meaning “beside or alongside.” Its meaning is that Paralympics are the parallel Games to the Olympics and illustrates how the two movements exist side-by-side.
While every competition from Little League Baseball to fly-fishing to Competitive Hot Dog Eating is filled with drama, the most recent Paralympics in Paris featured a heart-aching ending to a race for athletes with visual impairments.
A marathon runner, 36-year-old Elena Congost, representing Spain, finished third in a marathon race with a personal best record of 30:48—a performance worthy of receiving a bronze medal with the accompanying bragging rights to last a lifetime. Both the medal and the privilege to stand on the podium were lost forever.
Runners with visual impairments run with a guide connecting each other with a tether rope. According to the rules both the guide and the runner have to be holding onto the rope when they cross the finish line. Two meters from the finish line Elena dropped the rope and was disqualified.
Elena’s guide, Mia Carol began to cramp up and appeared to be falling to the ground. Out of instinct Elena dropped the rope to help her guide from stumbling.
A devastated Elena remarked, “It was a reflex act of any human, to hold on to a person who is falling next to you. But they say that I have let go of the rope for a second and since I have let it go, that’s it, there is no turning back.”
The relationship between the runner and the guide is a metaphor for any two individuals who are in a “can do together” scenario. The runner and the guide must be in perfect sync; the guide is not allowed to pull or push the athlete during the competition. The sound of the guide’s footsteps helps the runner to maintain a pace; all the while the guide is announcing the upcoming curvature of the track. Both participants feel they benefit from being a duet and from knowing the importance that one has in each other’s life.
And while the rules of the race dictate the need to stay connected, the relationship, the “tango” between a direct support provider and the individual with a disability constantly looks to the moment when they can “let go.” And while being tethered for the duration of the race is mandatory, the need to “let go” and hopefully run alone in the race of life is the goal of every support plan.
The runner (with visual impairment) and the guide can serve as a metaphor for any two individuals forming a union, a bond and a commitment to work together towards a common and shared outcome.
In the disability community, we see many examples of the “guides” as Direct Support Professionals, counselors, teachers, coaches, therapists, clinicians, job coaches, parents, and case managers. In many ways, they serve as “training wheels,” the traditional set of stabilizing wheels attached to two wheelers that provide a needed measure of safety, security and confidence. It is indeed a glorious day when the wheels come off and the rider goes it alone. Letting go is not an exact science. Even the most experienced, dedicated and accomplished “guides” understand that timing is both an art and a science. Both “too soon” and “too long” can have negative consequences on the outcomes of the endeavor.
It is noteworthy to understand and appreciate that after letting go, there are situations and conditions that might require a short return to a guide for a refresher course. In the case of riding a two-wheeler, there could be a need to refit the “training wheels” until the rider regains their sense of balance, confidence and coordination. The beauty of having a solid, seasoned and rewarding relationship with a “guide” is the reassurance that, if needed, that can be quickly and seamlessly reinstated and reactivated.
To those who witnessed Elena in her Olympic race it was obvious that her decision to let go was done for the greatest reason to ever “let go;” and that is for the benefit of another person.
The Paralympic symbol is the heart of its identity, symbolizing the Paralympic values of courage, determination, inspiration and equality. The motto of the Games is “I move.”
“I move” has its significance in understanding that one moves in step with a guide; until one moves away from the guide towards a life of independence, self-determination and accomplishment. We all owe Elena our thanks for reminding us of both the poetry and beauty of “letting go.”