MEN’S HEALTH 89
KC Mitchell hit rock bottom
at the happiest place on
Earth: Disneyland. The army
veteran and amputee had
planned three days there with
his wife and daughter, but his
agony was inescapable. He
would stand in line, feel a raging
pain, become anxious, pop
some painkillers, then repeat.
None of this was surprising.
Mitchell had spent most of the
previous 12 months playing
video games alone while
bingeing on Doritos, beer and
morphine – a habit that turned
him into an addicted mess.
So, they cut short the trip,
which was meant to celebrate
his daughter’s second birthday.
“It upset me terribly,” says
Mitchell. “I wasn’t living up to
the person and dad I wanted
to be.” A fifth of soldiers who
have done tours of Iraq and
Afghanistan return with
post-traumatic stress disorder
(PTSD); its symptoms can
include depression, irritability,
addiction and self-destructive
behaviour. Among amputees,
however, 66% show symptoms
of the condition.
“Disneyland was my
reckoning,” says Mitchell.
“When I got home, I flushed
away every single narcotic. I
accepted that I’d always be in
pain, and that was that.” Three
days of nauseating withdrawalfollowed, after which Mitchell
used the momentum of his
newly reclaimed sobriety to
haul himself to a gym.
“I was insecure to start with,”
he admits. “I wore sweatpants
to cover my leg.” Nonetheless,
he began to go every day,
making friends whom he
tasked with “ensuring I keep
coming”. Within months, he
was walking stronger. “I didn’t
have that hitch in my step,
and I generally felt better,” he
says. With his daughter’s third
birthday looming, he knew
what he had to do.
“I paid for the trip up front,”
he says, “and achieved peak
Disneyland.” Pumping iron
pulled Mitchell out of both
physical and mental holes,
strengthening his outlook as
well as his wounded body. But
that was just the beginning.
In 2015, Mitchell became
interested in competitive
powerlifting. The sight of
a man with one leg doing
heavy compound lifts
prompted bewildered looks,
but Mitchell didn’t care.
Squatting was the hardest.
When the weights get heavy,
you need to “spread the floor”,
pushing out with your feet and
bending at the ankles as you
lower yourself – difficult to
do with a prosthesis. It took
Mitchell a year to be able to use
regulation form, in which your
hips drop below your knees.
In 2017, Mitchell became the
first amputee to compete in
a full powerlifting competition.
He squatted 197kg, benched
192kg and deadlifted 272kg.
“I’m doing things I never
thought I’d be capable of when
I got blown up,” he says. His
journey has also made him
reassess what it means to be
diagnosed with PTSD. “I’ve
been through some shit. But I
hate that label – it makes me
sound like I have an incurable
virus. I call it ‘post-traumatic
self-growth’ instead.”One hot night in 2006, the
17-year-old Bellamy was out
with his basketball team when
they ran into a gang, one of
whose members took out a
gun and squeezed the trigger.
A bullet entered Bellamy’s
shoulder, nicked his spine
and exited his chest. He hasn’t
moved his legs since.
“When they told me I’d be
confined to a wheelchair, I
was, like, ‘Nah, I’ll be back on
the basketball court before
long,’” he says. “But that didn’t
happen. My mind went to
dark places. I stayed at home.
I didn’t do anything at all.”
Soon, his family members
were applying tough love.
“You’re partially paralysed, not
dead,” they said. So, he rolled
himself out into the world and
found that he could still play
wheelchair basketball. He
began trying out local gyms
and ended up at a CrossFit box
that specialised in training
athletes with spine injuries.
“I was doing basic pull-ups
and stuff, but they introduced
me to so many different
movements,” says Bellamy.
He learned how to do a ring
muscle-up, then moved onto
overhead presses, snatchesOVERCOMING THE
DARKNESS
KC MITCHELL - AFGHANISTAN WAR VETERAN,
FATHER, POWERLIFTER
6FT / 110KG / 34 YEARS OLDRISING
ABOVE IT
CJ BELLAMY - HR OFFICER, ADAPTIVE ATHLETE
6FT 3IN / 73KG / 29 YEARS OLD07
and more. It was a physical
assault – and a revelation.
“Since then, I’ve pushed
myself,” says Bellamy. “In the
beginning, I could do five pull-
ups; now, I can do 20. And the
benefits carry over to everyday
life. I have more energy. It
makes daily challenges – like
getting out of my wheelchair,
or just moving things around –
so much easier.”
When Bellamy isn’t training,
he explores the world with his
three-year-old niece. “She loves
running outside. My training
has given me the strength and
endurance to keep up with
her,” he says. “I can push my
chair through areas that aren’t
usually accessible to people
with disabilities like mine.”
Indeed, Bellamy is now the one
pushing his family to be more
active and meet people. The
tables have turned.
“Some people in my
situation aren’t very sociable
because the wheelchair
becomes a barrier,” he says.
“But I feel comfortable now.
As a result, I’m more convivial.
In many ways, I’m more able
than I’ve ever been.”06