Load Bearing
People call it strength.
They hear âadvanced MS,â âbedridden,â âlearning to walk again,â and they reach for words like warrior. I understand why. Itâs the language we have for visible effort.
But thatâs not what this is here.
What actually changed my life wasnât grit. It was structure.
Physical therapy gave me mechanics. Consistency. Repetition. The boring, unglamorous work of rebuilding function inch by inch.
And Makerâwho spent years on high-risk vertical concrete jobsâunderstood that immediately. Not emotionally. Practically.
Heâs worked the kind of sites where failure isnât inspirational. Where mistakes have weight. Where you donât get points for tryingâyou get replaced if youâre unsafe or incapable.
That background shaped how he supports me.
No heroics. No pushing. No âyouâve got thisâ bullshit. Just attention to balance, fatigue, leverage, recovery. Knowing when to spot, when to step back, when to let the load rest.
I use a walker at home when Iâm tired. When I go out, I use trekking polesâlike ski polesâfor balance. They work because they redistribute weight. Thatâs not metaphor. Thatâs physics.
The same principle applies to everything else.
I didnât walk again because I wanted it badly enough.
I walked again because the environment was built to make it possible.
Thatâs what real strength looks like to me now.
Not standing aloneâbut knowing how to build something that holds.
Men whoâve worked that way tend to recognize each other.
Not loudly. Not online. Just a quiet understanding of what holds â and what doesnât.
