Eight years after a Parkinson's diagnosis, Wetherell has a healing passion in bicycle racing (riding)

02/27/2003

By JOE HAMELIN
THE PRESS-ENTERPRISE

HEMET - "It wasn't much of a life," said Jim Wetherell.

Unfortunately, it was the one life he had, and when it went up in smoke after he learned he had Parkinson's Disease, "I fell apart," he admitted.

Stan Lim/The Press-Enterprise Jim Wetherell: "I knew I could burn off some of the anxiety with cycling. But I never dreamed that it would do anything for my Parkinson's."

Wetherell, who drove a tour bus for 21

years, was diagnosed with Parkinson's in 1995, at the age of 52. There went his job and, shortly after, his marriage. First he sank into depression, looking five years down the road "and wondering where I'd be, or if I'd be."

Finally, said Wetherell, his wife "politely asked me to leave."

But there's a reason he named his personal Web site address "Inevergiveup.org."

Eight years later, having settled in Hemet after three years of traveling through hell and back, Wetherell has forged a new career -- as an athlete.

He turned to cycling as a form of escape, which evolved into a 20-miles-a-day passion. Eventually he spent virtually his last nickel, $2,500, on a three-wheeled competition cycle, which he now calls "my bridge to a normal life." He began entering events, found sponsorship and uses what attention he's received at competitions like Sunday's Los Angeles Marathon to spread a message among Parkinson's victims: No hill is too steep to climb.

Stan Lim/The Press-Enterprise Wetherell's windshield advertises a fact thousands of Web surfers already know.

Wetherell and the rest of the cyclists will be first off the line Sunday morning, at 6. He has reached 38 mph on the flat with his trike, and 62 mph downhill, and contends, "I can ride with most anybody." He has participated in the event three times already and shouldn't work up much more than a light, healthy sweat in completing the course.

Twenty-six miles? What's 26 miles to a fellow so fit?

In fact, 30,000 cycling miles later, he insisted he's improving.

Not dramatically. The tremors still dog him sometimes. But improvement has been steady and noticeable. His handwriting is legible now. His speech, which slowed and blurred, is close to normal. The tremors have abated and, with his doctors' blessing, he has cut his medications in half.

"Parky," nicknamed for the disease he refused to give in to, was preparing for a ride three years ago when he noticed a broken odometer cable. Keeping track of the miles is a very big deal to Parky. What to do, what to do?

"The bike shops were all closed," he said, "so I got a magnifying glass and cut the wire, spliced it, got it working . . . and the next morning is when I realized what I'd done. Twelve thousand miles before, I couldn't drink a cup of coffee. I knew I could burn off some of the anxiety with cycling. But I never dreamed that it would do anything for my Parkinson's."

His story is an inspiration to Parkinson's victims everywhere. Wetherell was invited to post news of his competitions and treks on a Web site. Months later, when the page was removed, leaving only his phone number, he received an anxious call -- "What happened to you?!?" -- from a concerned mathematics professor, someone he'd never met. The man lives in Wales.

Stan Lim/The Press-Enterprise Hemet's Jim Wetherell, 59, routinely logs 20-mile days on his trike. Sunday, he goes for 26 miles in his fourth LA Marathon.

Not long thereafter, his trike manufacturer -- Charles Penninger of Sugar Grove, Ill., a man he has met only once -- told Parky two years ago to get his own Web site "and send me the bill."

Since, it's had 5,400 hits -- some, if not most, by people in desperate need of inspiration.

"For three years, my worst symptom was my own attitude," Wetherell said. "Most people in the first year or two after they're diagnosed go off and hide. It takes away your self-respect; that's the worst part."

His neurologist, Dr. Carol Van Petten of Riverside's Kaiser Hospital, decided last year there was no need for more visits. What communicating they do is by e-mail.

"He seems more vigorous every time I see him," she wrote, posting that on his Web site.

Initially, because Parkinson's can erode the sense of balance, another doctor discouraged Wetherell's cycling, afraid he might hurt himself.

"And every time I'd tell him I had a new symptom," Wetherell said, "he'd say I was under-medicated and give me a new pill."

Nothing explains his robustness, other than attitude.

"I was in a video store," he said, "and while I'm looking through the stacks I hear a guy behind me say, 'You got tremors?' I whirled around, thinking 'How'd he know?' But he was talking to the clerk about the movie 'Tremors.' "

He tells the story and laughs. With the right attitude, a man can laugh at just about anything.

Reach Joe Hamelin at (909) 368-9527 or jhamelin@pe.com.

____________________________________________________