One of the things we’ve always tried to do with our place in Utah is strike a balance between the familiar and the new. We’ve had our favorite places for years now. Favorite hikes. Favorite lakes. Favorite restaurants. We always seem to end up back at the same bakery, the same trails, the same scenic overlooks. But every trip we also make a point of trying something we’ve never done before.

Over the years, that’s led us to minor league baseball games, Real Salt Lake matches, Utah Mammoth hockey, junior hockey, new restaurants in Park City and Salt Lake City, and all sorts of little adventures that never would have happened if we’d just stuck to our routine.

Last night was one of those “let’s try something different” moments.

Park City Film was hosting a screening at the library of a documentary called Best Day Ever. I’d seen a short news story about it beforehand and thought it sounded interesting. The film was produced by the Kelly Brush Foundation, which helps people with spinal cord injuries and other disabilities stay active through adaptive sports.

I’m really glad we went.

The documentary follows the construction of Vermont’s first adaptive mountain bike trail and centers on adaptive cyclist Greg Durso. Calling him inspirational almost feels like selling him short. His personality practically bounces off the screen. More importantly, he’s simply an incredible athlete. Watching him ride terrain that I wouldn’t even attempt on two fully functioning legs was equal parts humbling and exhilarating.

The film also follows a young woman, Allie, who was paralyzed in a mountain biking accident as she returns to ride the very trail where her life changed forever. Her courage wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was simply matter-of-fact. This happened. Life changed. Now let’s keep living.

If *Best Day Ever* comes to a theater near you or starts streaming somewhere, I can’t recommend it enough. Stay for the credits if you can.

In our case, there was a panel discussion afterward. I was a little disappointed that Greg Durso and Allie couldn’t make it, but two local adaptive athletes took part instead, including Wally Lee.

His story hit me hard.

Wally was married with children when he was paralyzed. Years later, his wife developed cancer and eventually passed away. He wasn’t selling inspiration. He wasn’t pretending every day was wonderful. In fact, he specifically acknowledged that not every day is the “best day ever.” But when he talked about taking one last bike ride with his wife before she died……I just reached over and held my own wife’s hand.

Moments like that hit my gratitude bone. I’m grateful that I can walk. Grateful that I have my health. Grateful that my wife was sitting beside me.

But there was another lesson that was somehow even more comforting.

We all imagine certain things as the absolute worst that could happen to us. Paralysis. Losing a spouse. Catastrophic life changes. And yet here were person after person showing that even after those things happened, life wasn’t over.

They weren’t asking for pity.

They weren’t asking for sympathy.

They were busy living.

Laughing.

Riding bikes.

Helping others.

Finding purpose.

Finding joy.

It was unbelievably uplifting.

The evening also clarified something I’ve been thinking about as retirement gets closer.

I’ve said for a while that when I’m done teaching, I want to spend my time around people who actually want to be where they are. Maybe that’s a ski resort. Maybe a cooking school. Maybe a pool. After last night, I could absolutely see myself volunteering with Utah’s National Ability Center, helping people learn to ski or ride adaptive bikes—especially wounded veterans.

There is so much meaningful work to be done in the world. It doesn’t all happen inside bureaucracies.

Sometimes it happens on a bike trail.

Sometimes it happens in a volunteer organization.

Sometimes it happens on the third floor of a public library.

And sometimes you stumble into exactly what you needed simply because you decided to try something new.