I’ve been through a severe muscle disease, life threatening surgery, and dozens of hospitalizations to live a life beyond anyone’s expectations. I’ve fathered three children, soared in a glider, touched the ocean floor with my hand, and changed people’s lives with my words and insight.

Now, at age 40, I feel like it is only the beginning for me. I have lived a life inspired. But you may be surprised to hear about the moment in my life that gave me the most inspiration.

It was 1992. My then-wife, Terri and my infant son, Greg Jr., were in New Orleans, visiting her family. I was at home alone. It was late at night and I was watching a repeat broadcast of a college football game on Saturday evening.

I’ve always been inspired by the athletic drive. I think we can all learn a great deal about how to approach life by watching the determination of a champion and applying the same attitude exhibited on the field to the game of life. Life is a game. I decided to look at it that way a long time ago because like a game, I play for fun and I play to win.

So it was late on a Saturday evening and I was watching football. As the game progressed, I found myself hollering at the television. During the break between the third and fourth quarters, I obeyed my rumbling stomach and as bachelors often do, I called for a pizza.

When the delivery boy arrived, I was intensely focused on the game. The doorbell rang just as the players were lining up for a game-winning field goal, so my mental focus was split between my television and the pizza formalities. I paid for it and gestured for the delivery boy to put the pizza and the accompanying two-liter bottle of Pepsi in my lap as I sat in my power wheelchair.

With half a mind, I tipped him and sent him on his way as I watched the football sail end-over-end through the uprights, sealing a victory for the team I had been rooting for. After one final yell in the empty house, it was time to enjoy my late night meal.

All my life, I’ve had muscular dystrophy, a severe muscle weakness, so I’ve always had to rely on leverage, balance and creativity to accomplish anything physical. Getting the medium pizza on the kitchen table required me to lift up my knees and slide the box across the corner of the rectangular table, past the balancing point where gravity would take over and bring the box to where I knew it would.

To open it, I didn’t have the strength to use one hand, or one arm like most people. I grasped the cardboard with my right hand and placed my right wrist in my left hand. I then securely planted my left elbow on the table and leaned my whole body to the left. That complicated motion was natural and instinctual to me. I had to devise ways to compensate for my weakness. Like so much that I do in life, leverage and balance made the box top flip open without much effort.

Before acquiring a thirst, I scarfed down a few slices of my favorite: Hawaiian-style pizza with pineapple and ham. But in my enthusiasm for the game, I had made a critical mistake: I had never been able to open a two-liter bottle of soda. I do not have the physical strength in my fingers to grasp the white plastic cap and twist it with enough force to break the tabs that sealed the unopened two-liter. I was angry with myself because I knew my limitations and had I had not been distracted, I would definitely have asked the pizza boy to open it for me before he left.

It was late, probably around midnight. My neighbors were friendly and always willing to help. But another thing you learn from disability is that you don’t want to become a pest. I couldn’t bring myself to roll to the next door neighbor and ask him to open a soda for me that late at night.

I had a choice to make. I was thirsty. Did I want Arizona tap water? Or did I want a nice, cold Pepsi? It was a no-brainer. I decided I would soon be enjoying the sweet, refreshing taste of my favorite carbonated drink.

A two-liter of soda weighs more than I can lift. But somehow, using my mastery of leverage and balance, I was able to get it on top of the kitchen counter. I stood up from my wheelchair and leaned my elbows on the sink. I turned on the hot water and waited for the steam. My glasses fogged as I rolled the cap directly under the white hot flow of water. I remembered from Jr. High physics class that heat expands the molecules and that the cap would easily twist off if I got it hot enough.

Apparently that does not apply to plastic.

I wasted about 15 minutes on the hot water experiment. Next I got towels and tried to somehow grasp the cap with enough grip to twist it off. No success.

I became even more determined. I studied the cap to the point where I had a firm mental grasp on the type of force I would need to solve the problem. I needed leverage. My solution was to use a pair of drumsticks and some duct tape. I carefully wrapped the tape around the cap and the drumstick, creating a surefire lever. I could then easily twist the cap with much more force! To peel the tape off its ring and apply it securely to the cap and the stick required focused energy and about 30 minutes of my time. But when I cut the tape from the roll and tested the strength of my invention, I was confident.

I laid the bottle down on it side and using all of my might, I pushed on the butt of the stick, applying pressure to the area where the tape, the stick and the Pepsi cap joined.

It had been a waste of time. The ridges on the cap were much stronger than the duct tape and when I turned my lever, the tape gave way. I had known this to be the weakness in my plan, but I thought it would hold!

I then became angry and emotionally involved in the effort. It was now 1 AM. The Pepsi was no longer ice-cold. I was extremely thirsty. I was ready to have a sip of soda, chill on the couch and watch some late night television. I was determined to have Pepsi, not water.

I rolled my wheelchair out to my garage, looking for tools! I dug through my toolbox until I found a pair of pliers! Confidently, I rolled back into the kitchen and laid the bottle on its side again. I squeezed the handles as firmly as I could and applied as much twist as my 65-pound, muscle-weakened body would allow. I thought I was making progress, but when I looked down at the cap, all I had done was put horizontal scratches across the vertical ridges.

My heart raced. My mind focused on the problem as I became emotionally involved. I had an unwavering determination for victory. Defeat was not an option. Giving up was not an option. Water would have made me nauseous at this point. I was having Pepsi, damn it!

Uncertain of the outcome, I rolled back out to the garage looking for better tools. Out of anger, I slammed the pliers in the general direction of my toolbox but missed. The pliers slid to the corner and were stopped by the presence of my dart board. I smiled.

I knew at that moment that I had won this important battle. I rolled into the kitchen, laid the bottle back on its side again, raised my right hand into the air and stabbed the plastic with a dart!

I sealed the hole with scotch tape, rolled the bottle on its other side and stabbed it again, both times about two inches below the cap. I held a plastic cup under one of the holes, removed the tape from both sides, and squeezed! A thin stream of beverage slowly filled my cup.

Victory! I’ll never forget how refreshing and sweet tasting that first swig of Pepsi was! It was by far the most enjoyable drink I’ve ever had in my life!

I know that opening a soda is not the most significant event in the history of mankind. But when I stepped up to that challenge with determination; when I lifted that weight, it was a huge victory that gave me an incredible confidence. I learned that night that with focused determination, there are no barriers, no obstacles, no limitations. I could do anything. Now, whenever I’m in a difficult situation in life, I’m reminded of the feeling of victory delivered by that lukewarm, refreshing, thirst-quenching Pepsi, and I press on. In any situation, there’s always an opportunity for victory.

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