By Kortney Clemons
"When above-the-knee amputeeswalk, we generate seven to 9 occasions the strength of our bodyweight correct into the purpose the place the prosthesis meets our residual leg. For me, that is nearly 1,500 kilos slamming into that socket."For any amputee, studying to stroll with a prosthetic leg is a painful, grueling ordeal. quickly after military medic Kortney Clemons, who misplaced his correct leg to a roadside bomb in Baghdad, started the method, he had greater than jogging in brain. He desired to run, and run quick. slightly 3 years after the bleak assault that modified his existence perpetually, he aimed to hitch the elite corps of overseas athletes vying for gold within the 2008 Paralympics in Beijing. His account of his restoration from this catastrophic wound and his force to develop into the 1st Iraq veteran to win Paralympic gold is among the so much amazing, inspiring, and compelling tales within the heritage of activities.
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Extra resources for Amped: A Soldier's Race for Gold in the Shadow of War
But Rigby soon would play an even bigger role in my survival. Before wobbling to his feet, Rigby saw me push myself up and then stand on my left foot. I began hopping in place. But in a matter of three or four seconds, Rigby had sprinted over and ordered me back to the ground. “Sit down! Sit down! ” he yelled. I did. “You’re going to be all right. You’re going to be all right,” Rigby said, trying to keep me calm as I had done for Vang minutes before. ” As Rigby stuck his right hand into my badly damaged right leg in an attempt to fully control the bleeding, we heard the Blackhawk’s engine roar to life.
Indd 24 5/15/08 1:55:07 PM 2 Southern Roots T he morning I lost my leg, I lost my identity. For as long as I could remember, I had been a football player. As a little boy, I practiced open-field jukes alone in my yard, a ball tucked in my arm. I had stretched that love of the game to a brief stint in the talent-rich junior college leagues of Mississippi. While in Iraq, I hit the weight room almost daily—sometimes twice a day—just so I could be physically ready to resume my college football career once I returned home.
Located in the center of our Camp Falcon compound next to the chow hall, our weight room was bigger and nicer than some of the ritziest health clubs back in the States. The massive gym was jammed with weight racks, weight benches, resistance machines, elliptical trainers, treadmills, and stationary bikes. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, small windows, and elevated televisions that aired music videos. We had speakers in the ceilings that boomed up-tempo tunes. We had an equipment desk where civilians handed out towels, footballs, basketballs, and jump ropes.
Amped: A Soldier's Race for Gold in the Shadow of War by Kortney Clemons