In choosing a starting point for this memoir of illness and recovery, it seemed only natural to go back to the time when I felt strongest and most alive in my body—competing as a black belt in Tae Kwon Do when I was in college. At 6 feet tall, I had always been powerful, but Tae Kwon Do gave me a grace and agility I had never had. I broke boards with punches and flying sidekicks and competed in full-contact sparring. My signature maneuver was the tornado kick. As the referee commenced the round by pulling back his arm, I’d leap through the air in a spinning spiral and with my long legs I’d often catch my opponent off guard and drill her to the mat. In 1978, I earned a bronze medal in the Women’s Welterweight Division in full contact free-sparring.

Part ballet, part combat, sparring was a brutal sport, but I loved the adrenaline surge it gave me. I competed nationally, and in 1978 I won a bronze medal in free sparring at the trials for the Pan American Games in Washington, D.C.

The following fall I began medical school. Although I continued to train and teach Tae Kwon Do, I stopped competing in full contact sparring, not wanting to risk anymore punches or kicks to my head. Never again would I have such quick reflexes and powerful kicks, or the unshakeable belief in myself as invincible and capable of anything. I switched to less demanding sports like biking and rock climbing.

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By Dr. Terry Wahls