Life is full of obstacles. Hurdles to overcome. Challenges to face. Running through the darkness to find purpose, to find reason, and to find the light can feel daunting. For some, it seems near impossible. That was once the case for Bernard Prince.
' I just walked off the field'
Prince was born in Canton, Ohio, where he still lives to this day. As a child, he loved sports and having six siblings made playing them quite accessible.
"We always played football, basketball, things like that," Prince said. "Football, a little bit of baseball...martial arts, boxing, I really liked everything."
A student at Timken High School, Prince was ready to become a Trojan football player. A middle linebacker, he was looking forward to using his size in order to give the team's defense a boost.
But as Prince got older, something felt off. He was slower than the other kids, but not for a lack of effort. He had felt it a bit in junior high as a wrestler and in football, but it seemed to be worsening. Still, a passion to play drove Prince to the gridiron. He was determined to play the sport he had loved his whole life. So, he joined the team and entered conditioning.
That's when things reached a low for Prince.
"There was probably 33 people on the team, and I began to run around the track and my body was so weak, and I didn't understand what was going on at the time, but I was going so slow that the entire team was finished and turning around and looking at me telling me to come on," he recalled. "When I finally made it down there, I just walked off the field and never came back.
"I was so embarrassed that I transferred schools."
Prince started fresh at Canton McKinley High School, back when the two high schools were still separate. He graduated from McKinley and, from there, decided to join the army.
But the problems Prince had faced in his youth were becoming impossible to ignore as he entered adulthood.
' It was kind of like total hell'
A recent high school graduate, Prince enlisted in the United States Army. His family and friends were hesitant for Prince to do so, knowing that something with his body was off following his experience playing sports.
Doctors at the time were unable to pinpoint why Prince might have been feeling slow and weak, and so Prince moved forward with his enlistment.
If football was hard, basic training was all but impossible.
"Once I got there, it was kind of like total hell. I was thrown off the side of the road by my drill sergeant, I was laughed at by everyone. Some people wanted to fight me," Prince said. "At the end, [my drill sergeant] said, 'You probably should go get checked out.'"
Prince was discharged from the Army before making it through training.
The experiences he was having with physical activities were progressively getting worse. He took the drill sergeant's advice and returned to the doctor, looking for answers. Soon after, he finally got them.
' It was actually satisfying to a certain extent'
After years of wondering what was happening with his body, wondering why his muscles often felt weak, wondering why he was slower than his teammates and his fellow soldiers—doctors, at long last, had a reason.
Prince was diagnosed with Kugelberg-Welander syndrome, also known as spinal muscular atrophy (SMA). In the United States, there are around 10,000 to 25,000 children and adults living with SMA. The disease is rare and progressive.
The chronic muscle-wasting disease causes the loss of a specific type of nerve cell in the spinal cord that controls muscle movement, without which the muscles are denied the nerve signals that make them move. Without movement, the muscle atrophies.
While the diagnosis was not something to be excited about, for once, Prince had an explanation for how he'd been feeling. That in itself held somewhat of a silver lining.
"It was actually satisfying to a certain extent because I really realized that it wasn't me," he said.
A silver lining was just that, however, and as the years went by, the clouds that hung over Prince grew darker.
'It was just a want to do something that you couldn’t do anymore'
Year after year, Kugelberg-Welander syndrome was affecting Prince's body.
The hands he once loved using to play bass guitar weren't strong enough to carry his tunes. The legs he once loved to run on weren't strong enough to carry him forward. He began using a wheelchair full-time.
Prince's wife, Yvonne, saw the disease taking not only a toll on his body but his mental health as well.
"I was asking people to get involved with him, call him, take him places,” Yvonne said.
Still, Prince was struggling to find his reason. He had lost so much of what he loved, and he said finding a "spark" was escaping him.
"The was just no spark. Depending on what the 'it' was, it just didn't arrive yet," Prince said. "[It was] total darkness. It was just a want to do something that you couldn’t do anymore. And it became haunting."
Prince stopped listening to music. He stayed in his house. A routine of introversion became Prince's life. There was one thing he enjoyed watching on TV, but that felt like a trivial pastime for Prince.
Until a moment he shared with his physical therapist from Aultman Therapy Services, Michelle McCann.
' When track comes on, I get excited'
McCann began working closely with Prince last fall after he had been a patient of Aultman Therapy Services for about a decade. She had seen Prince lose some of his mobility and motor function, but it was when she started making home visits she learned how that was impacting him—and why.
Through the darkness he was feeling, Prince would watch track meets on TV every chance he could.
"When track comes on I get excited because I like to watch them run thinking that’s me. I’m crossing the line. I’m not near last anymore, I'm actually winning the race," Prince said.
McCann, who ran track in high school and is an avid marathon runner, resonated with Prince's passion. The two started sharing those moments with each other. A connection was formed, and a friendship bonded.
That's when Prince confided in McCann his dreams of running once more.
'On this side of heaven'
During an early conversation between the two about running and the track meets he loved watching do dearly, Prince told McCann something that would change both of their lives forever.
"I told her one day when we get to heaven, you guys won’t find me for about 10,000 years earth time because I will be running," Prince said. "10,000 years for 10,000 miles."
Prince had been dreaming of running all these years as his body gradually became unable to. When McCann heard him say that, it hit home in a way she couldn't have planned for.
"He said to me so plainly that when he gets to heaven he's going to run the first 10,000 miles that he's there," she said. "That just wrecked my heart. It just impacted me in the moment in such a way that I said, 'Well, what if we can do that on this side of heaven?'"
McCann was offering a way for Prince to have his hopes and dreams come true. Not in heaven, but here on earth.
"She said, 'Oh, you can run now,'" Prince said through tears. "When she told me about the idea...we learned to listen to God because he began to tell us what to do next."
Fueled by faith, the two began closing in on a goal to run as close to 10,000 miles on this side of heaven as they could. It started with a chair and a team.
'Y’all the real heroes today'
McCann knew that racing wheelchairs existed. She didn't know the logistics of getting Prince into one or entering one into a race or any of the in-between. She just knew that she was going to help her new friend chase his dreams.
A GoFundMe account was created to purchase a Hoyt Blade Racer, a state-of-the-art running chair that allows Prince to have a partner in a road race pushing the chair forward in the competition. The equipment that would allow Prince to compete in races is expensive, but he stayed faithful. While they're still working on their goal of purchasing Prince his own chair, in the meantime, they found one he was able to loan.
Thanks to a local family, Prince was given a Hoyt Racing Chair to borrow. A chair that allowed the two to sign up for their first race—the Frosty Frolic 5k run. Throughout the streets of Canton, Prince had tears in his eyes as he felt the cold winter wind upon his face. With McCann and his team of therapists from Aultman, Prince was given the feeling of running once again.
No longer were they dreams. Prince was racing, and he wasn't finishing last. McCann and the team gained experience using the Hoyt chair with Prince, and after some small races, it was time to put a dent in the goal of 10,000 miles on this side of heaven.
It was time for a marathon.
Surrounded by his team and, of course, McCann, Prince arrived in Downtown Canton last spring, bright and early. Starting off with a prayer, the group, calling themselves Team Bernard Prince, had a plan for their continuous 26.2-mile journey.
Different groups of therapists took different legs of the race. Sometimes, one team member would push the chair solo; sometimes, they'd each grab a handle. Prince played music, and a lot of the selection was heavy on bass guitar as they ran the course.
The day was rainy and cold. The streets were damp. The skies were gray. But with every step, Prince was finding light within himself and through the people around him who had dedicated their day to him.
At water stops and areas where observers cheered on the runners, Team Bernard Prince was greeted with words of encouragement and support.
"Good job, Team Bernard!"
"Oh my god, I love you team Hoyt!"
"Woo! Y’all the real heroes today!"
Prince was closing in on the last leg of the race—where McCann took over and pushed him along the final stretch.
'We did it'
Along that final stretch, the rain slowed down. But Team Bernard Prince did not. As the clouds began to part, McCann and Prince looked to the sky, feeling like there could be something waiting for them after the rain.
"Still praying for rainbows and looking for them,” McCann said as she pushed Prince further and further.
To see a rainbow, you need rain and sun. There's beauty in the balance of the two. Not unlike Prince's life. He had made it through the darkness and found a new light within himself. The outcome was, in itself, beautiful.
After 26.2 miles, a dream had come true. Prince and McCann crossed the finish line as McCann cheered, "We did it!" McCann placed Prince's race medal around his neck. He was a marathon runner. He crossed the finish line. He wasn't last.
With a marathon in the books, Prince was 26.2 miles closer to 10,000 on this side of heaven.
"It was almost like being in that room again with [McCann] talking about running 10,000 miles in heaven for 10,000 years. It was a surreal moment," Prince said at the finish line. "On this side of heaven."
His team immediately began planning their next races, from 5Ks to the 2024 Cleveland Marathon. The next goal on this side of heaven is to run in the Boston Marathon.
As they run each race, Prince continues reaching goals and, hopefully, inspiring others. McCann, in tears after the first marathon, told Prince how proud she was of him.
"You were talking about running in heaven; we're going to do that, but look how much we can do here and look how many people you've inspired," McCann told Prince. "You're inspiring people. I just get to be part of the journey.”
"I believe more is coming," Prince said.
Pushing him off the course and into preparation for the many races to come, there wasn't a rainbow in the sky, but there was plenty of beauty to behold in the moment.
The inspired goal of a Canton man with a rare disease We Follow Through Want us to continue to follow through on a story? Let us know. First Name Last Name Email What story do you want us to follow through on? What questions do you have? Please include the headline and/or URL of the story you want us to follow through on. Provide any other information that may help us to follow through on the story Captcha
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