His dreams of Olympic glory have faded. An existence once defined by sporting magnificence reduced to constant battles played out in the mind and in life.
Fate, it is said, has an odd way of intervening in life’s drama. What once may have seemed certain and right may be challenged and thrown in the most tragic and unexpected of directions. Such is the case with the tale that follows.
While the story’s primary action may have taken place on May 25, 2002 at the Encino (California) Velodrome, the script’s pen is still to the page months later—and it’s unlikely to be lifted anytime soon. For in the life of 20-year-old Wayne Rutledge, nothing is certain and everything is taken one day at a time.
A fantastic specimen
By all accounts, Wayne Rutledge was well on his way to an athletic career filled with success. An accomplished speedskater, an in fact an Olympic hopeful in that sport as well, the Buena Park, California teen took up cycling in 1997 as a cross-training activity only to soon discover that he was a natural fit for the bike, his 6-4, 210-pound frame making him a Goliath in the saddle and a powerful rider with intense, untapped ability.
His prowess was evident, even to the likes of U.S. National Track Coach Des Dickie.
“I told the kid he was a fantastic specimen for sprinting,” said Dickie. “He had the potential, but he needed to be in a structured program. It would have taken time, but the talent was there for a coach to work with.”
So impressed was Dickie with Rutledge that he attempted to earn the youngster acceptance into the resident athlete program at the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs where training would become Rutledge’s sole focus. With no results nationally, however, his application was denied. Nevertheless, Dickie invited Rutledge to participate in various USA Cycling elite training camps in Chula Vista, California. There, Rutledge, still a relative novice on the track, continued to impress.
It was widely agreed upon, the future of Wayne Rutledge was colored in bright lights.
"I’m grateful I have life"
In southern California, on a traditional May evening in 2002, 19-year-old Wayne Rutledge’s life was threatened in an untraditional way.
Riding in a kierin qualifying heat at the Encino Velodrome’s racing series, Rutledge made a move for the second position coming out of the fourth turn. His wheel tangled with another rider seeking the same spot and, at nearly 40 miles per hour, Rutledge went down, his head taking the brunt of the fall.
Within seconds, the 19-year-old Rutledge went from a youthful existence as an Olympic hopeful to battling for his life.
Rushed to a nearby hospital, an unconscious Rutledge had the first of two brain surgeries within one hour of the crash, his second brain surgery came the following morning. Doctors reasoned that he could be in a coma for up to one year. There was also the possibility that he would never awake.
In a week, however, Rutledge was out of his coma. Two weeks later, he walked out of the hospital.
“I look over the 600 pages of medical records and I’m grateful for everything I have now,” said Rutledge. “I was supposed to be in a wheel chair not able to read or write or have any motor function. It’s hard for me to think about, but I’m grateful I have life.”
Following Rutledge’s crash, an outpouring of support arrived from those near and far. Hundreds of comments poured onto a message board set up at fixedgearfever.com while family, friends, concern, and prayer blanketed the hospital waiting room.
“There was an outpouring of support from the cycling community that truly touched us,” said Don Somerville, Rutledge’s brother. “A tremendous amount of people, maybe too many, came to the hospital and shared their blessings and hopes with our family. It was so difficult because we went from one end of the spectrum to the other so quickly.”
And some individuals outside of Rutledge’s immediate family went above and beyond. Ashley Knight, Rutledge’s girlfriend, took the 60-mile drive to the hospital each day. Rutledge training partners Jay Brown and Dave Hansen lent consistent support while Mark Perez, a Los Angeles County Firefighter and cycling father, took responsible control of the accident scene to care for Rutledge’s safety. Scott Patton, director of fixedgearfever.com, offered his website to allow others the opportunity to share their thoughts and well wishes with the Rutledge family.
“Laying in a hospital bed not know what happened is a scary thing,” said Patton, himself speaking from experience. “Being unable to get to see Wayne, [putting up a message board on the website] was something I could do to let he and his family know that friends were behind them. The Internet has a way of letting people know. Cyclists, in general, are good-hearted people. We all risk our lives on bikes every day and when we hear of a ‘brother’ going down, we want to reach out . . . . I think it was really quite therapeutic for everybody to post and read.”
The story of Wayne Rutledge touched and affected many outside of his immediate circle, a sign of the cycling community’s tight-knit ways and ability to see beyond the differences to discover the overall shared community that exists.
It’s a daily struggle
Months after his accident, there is little to indicate that Wayne Rutledge touched death’s hand only to slap it away for a second chance at living. With long hair, a baseball cap, and a button-up shirt, the visible scars of Rutledge’s near fatal encounter are well concealed. The interior scars, however, run deeper.
The injuries incurred in the fall have affected the right frontal lobe of Rutledge’s brain, where planning and future goals are practiced, as well as the left rear, where language and long-term memory processes occur.
“Emotionally and mentally, it’s a daily struggle,” said Somerville, one of Rutledge’s closest confidants.
Rutledge is currently enrolled in a two-year academic program at Coastline Community College in Costa Mesa, California. Designed for individuals who have suffered a diverse variety of brain injuries, the Acquired Brain Injury program focuses on all aspects of critical thinking and reestablishing a new thought process with particular attention paid to future possibilities. Brain injuries, however, are a curious thing. Oftentimes, remarkable strides occur immediately before the progress flatlines; yet, for every individual the process differs. Where the path of Wayne Rutledge’s future leads is a tremendous question mark.
“Getting through the situation I’m in right now is first and foremost,” said Rutledge. “I want to get a better education. I have things I would’ve liked to have done, but now I don’t know what the future holds.”
Others maintain added hopes for Rutledge and his uncertain future.
“I hope [Wayne] eventually makes a significant recovery and finds something in his life that will define him and give meaning to him,” said Somerville. “His identity was so tied to his success on the bike and now, with that removed, I want him to find something that gives him a solid sense of identity.”
One thing not in Rutledge’s future is a trip around the velodrome. Another fall could prove fatal.
“Deep inside, I can’t put myself back on the bike because I have the fear of dying,” he said. “I thought about being in the hospital as nationals came along and I had the idea I’d be fine, but logically I wasn’t going to be fine.
“I totally loved cycling, so much so that I put speedskating on the backburner. I could ride anytime and I love being outdoors. On the bike, I could go-go-go and never have to worry. It’s hard for me to find an activity now that I can do that can take the place of cycling. I hope there is something that can fill that void, but I don’t know when, where, or if ever that will come.”
"I’m just moving on"
While May 25, 2002 may be the day that forever altered the course of Wayne Rutledge’s life, it is not the day that will define him, he says.
“I have a [resilient] attitude. I’m in bad shape, I’m not going to lie. Things happen each day when I question why this happened to me—and I hope no other cyclist ever has to go through what I went through—but daily I just thank God that I’m alive.
“I’m just going on with my life. There were things I may have taken for granted before, like reading or writing, but now I have a whole new look on life. It’s a day-to-day thing. Today, I did this. Tomorrow, I’ll do that and a little extra. Things happen for a reason and I just have to believe and trust that.”
Indeed, fate has an odd way of intervening in life’s drama and, to Wayne Rutledge, live dealt a crushing hand. Yet, life is not over. It has been altered drastically, yes, but it is far from over.
“I’m just moving on,” said Rutledge, “thankful that I have life.”
