
In October of 2006, I sat on the exam table at the Post-Polio Clinic feeling as fragile as the sheet of paper that's torn off between patients. My pallor matched its color as the hum of the fluorescent lights echoed the buzzing of my anxiety. I had experienced worsening symptoms for 10 years when I realized enough was enough. The limp from polio returned, I was in constant pain, experiencing chronic fatigue, depression and anxiety. Since Post-Polio Syndrome is a diagnosis of exclusion, I underwent extensive testing to rule out any other causes for the symptoms. In December of 2006, the diagnosis was made. I was told to prepare to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair and expect an accelerated decline in functioning as I aged. But what's a social worker to do? I was at the height of my award-winning career as a VA social worker getting ready to retire in 3 years.
In February of 2007, knowing I was at a crossroads in my life, I did what I'd done when I faced seemingly insurmountable challenges in my life. I got still and asked for Divine Guidance. It was a cold dark evening that seemed to mirror the dark night of my mind, body and soul. I had articles I printed out from the "new age" teachers (who in truth were sharing ancient wisdom) spread out on my dining room table. There was a prompt from Lisa Nichols newsletter that said, "I am so happy and grateful now that I can create..." "Whoa," I thought to myself. "Happy? Grateful? Create?" As I queried the Universe, I grabbed my laptop. My fingers almost magically flew across the keyboard as the poem, "Running the Race" poured forth from my heart and soul.
Early summer 1959 my kindergarten year
everyone around me filled with nervous fear.
Despite the Salk vaccine hope polio would disappear
the polio virus crept right up and knocked me in the rear.
Dancing all around the gym feeling free just like a bird
I dropped to the ground just like a stone and no one said a word.
The pain it was so searing-the diagnosis even worse
"It's polio" the doctor said...he was abrupt and terse.
Called one of the 'lucky ones' I had a 'mild case'
but with the other athletes I could never keep their pace.
Miss Holly physical therapist, curly hair and a warm, broad smile
it tempered the pain of being apart - to walk I'd take a while.
I always wore those 'special' shoes the kids they poked and teased
with no support and much abuse with childhood I wasn’t pleased.
But put nose to the grindstone and learned all that I could
I couldn't kick a ball but my grades were always good.
Years went by and no more thought to polio did I give
I accepted the limp, everything else and decided my life I would live.
But symptoms of weakness and muscle pain did grow
I kept a stoic face hoping no one else would know.
Life no longer was my own I struggled through each day
suffered in silence, alone and afraid tried to keep depression at bay.
And with the grace of glorious God my world it opened wide
I discovered there was a Post-Polio team and they were on my side.
Sought out paths for healing and my spirit flew free
for the first time in life, I could truly be me.
The chains are gone and possibilities abound
I'm a tree with my roots planted firmly in ground.
Using wheelchair to travel, set limits on what I could do
resulted in joy to realize I could live life anew.
Celebrated my body-creaks, groans and need for a brace
while in my mind I focused on winning a 10K race.
I'm now off the sidelines, no need to sit and whine
so much gratitude fills my heart and love and beauty shine.
After all these years I can join the loving human race
I exceed all expectations and now I set the pace.
Winning a 10K race? Why am I focusing on winning a race when I had never run a day in my life, was called “Easy Out Alper” (my maiden name) in gym class, and have this diagnosis and prognosis telling me to expect an accelerated decline in functioning as I aged? I am sitting here in a toe-up leg brace, using a cane and at times a wheelchair for mobility. As poetry flowed from my mind, heart and soul to the page, I viewed my past of having contracted paralytic polio followed by enduring years of abuse at the hands of family members, through the lens of gratitude, and forgiveness and began healing my mind/body connection through beautiful metaphors.
On 5/25, I will be celebrating the 19th anniversary of when I walked out of the Boston VA Medical Center for the last time. I had no idea what the future held for me or if I had a future. But as Abraham Lincoln once said, "The best way to predict the future is to create it." I was creating a future very different in my mind's eye from the one Western Medicine predicted for me. I saw myself as running free in my body, feeling healthy, whole and healed. I did not however, see running the 2009 Boston Marathon in my future. That happened in February of 2008 when my personal trainer asked me what my next health and fitness goals were. I'd been discharged in May of 2007 from outpatient physical therapy with an earth angel who did not subscribe to Western Medicine's belief that I was destined for a life in a wheelchair. In October of 2007, the Universe brought me together with Janine Hightower, an in-home personal trainer. After 6 months of working together she asked me what my next goals were. I'd accomplished so much in a short period of time being able to get off of a toilet seat independently, no longer use a tub chair in the shower and being able to pass the initial fitness assessment test. I told her I wanted to come out of my toe-up leg brace; maybe take a dance class as I loved ballet before contracting paralytic polio. I wanted to diversify my work outs. She wrote down my goals, gathered up her things and had her hand on the door knob.
"Wait...I have one more goal."
"What's that?" she asked.
"I want to run the 2009 Boston Marathon next year for Spaulding Rehab. I hear they have a Race for Rehab Team." The words bypassed any logic or cognitive process. It came from deep inside my soul just like that poem "Running the Race." She could have very easily said to me, "Hold on there. You are still in your leg brace and you've never run a day in your life. Shouldn't we set a less ambitious goal?"
Instead, Janine said to me, "Well you're going to need a pair of running shoes!"
On April 20, 2009, after 7 hours and 49 minutes, I crossed the finish line of the Boston Marathon having run a race that by all appearances should have been an impossible accomplishment for me. I've gone on to have many adventures as runnergirl 1953, published 7 books that chronicle my journey of life after a once devastating diagnosis and dire prognosis and wowed audiences with my powerful message of healing, hope and possibilities.
What a gift and blessing to be celebrating 19 years of healing after finding the courage to take that leap of faith on 5/25/2007. Every day is a celebration of life. My heart overflows with gratitude and appreciation for every run and every workout. Last Saturday, despite a light rain, nothing could dampen my Spirit as Tom and I got in magnificent morning miles. The lush green was captivating as I realized how fortunate I am to be outside in Nature experiencing the change in seasons up close and personal.

And to think it all started with a poem in which I imagined myself Running the Race despite all appearances to the contrary.
Visit my website to learn how poetry, optimism, gratitude and the mind/body connection helped me to transform my life. After having been told in December 2006 that I should prepare to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, I went on to cross the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and have many adventures as runnergirl 1953. Be sure to visit the recently updated News and Events Page for links to podcast interviews, speaking engagements and where you can find my incredibly inspirational story.
We asked you to share the stories of the songs, the albums, and the moments when music reached in and changed everything. You delivered. And one story stopped us in our tracks. We are thrilled to announce that Mary McManus is the winner of the first-ever Music Saved Me Story Contest. Mary’s journey is one for the ages. She contracted paralytic polio at age five. She survived years of childhood trauma. And then, at the height of an award-winning career as a VA social worker, she was diagnosed with Post-Polio Syndrome and told to prepare to spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair.
Music — and the healing power of words — had other plans for Mary.
Through poetry, perseverance, and an unshakeable belief in what’s possible, Mary transformed her life. At 53 she became a runner. At 55 she crossed the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon. That is what music can do."
Last year I was the guest on The Optimism Institute Blue Sky Podcast. "Mary McManus has never had it easy. As a kindergartner, she was a victim of polio just a short time before the vaccine was introduced. She also faced trauma in her home life but somehow managed to persevere and overcome these and still more obstacles throughout her life. Today, Mary is an inspiring author, poet, motivational speaker, and finisher of the Boston Marathon." Here is the link to the Episode Website. Be sure to subscribe on your favorite podcast platform and on YouTube.








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