I was still in my wheelchair, mind you, so John had to push me around the uneven ground over bumps and through tall grasses.
He was unfamiliar with the course, and being a beginner himself, a little awkward, having a time of it getting his bearings right. But he got the hang of it, better than me.
But man oh man, did I have the time of my life. It was just good to be out on the course again, even if it meant throwing from a wheelchair with my left hand. All my life I have been throwing with my right, so it took some getting used to, thinking what the disc would do coming out of my left hand.
I had no lower body thrust and depended solely on my left arm--that meant my biceps, triceps, wrist and elbow. The distance was only a quarter of my pre-stroke mark. But, I kept at it. Maybe at some future point, I would figure it out.
Eventually, I was able to stand up and get better leverage on my game, but I was still just throwing 10-15 yards a toss.
I became intimidated by the course and dreaded going to Zilker Disc Golf Course, but thought I'd come around. After about a year, the novelty and romanticism wore off the sport I played in three states. I told everybody that my arm was kaput, which wasn't too far from the truth.