Keeping fit as a wheelchair user - 5 things I've learnt

You know what? There's still quite a few people who look surprised when I say that, as a wheelchair user, I go to the gym.

Sure, I may not always get it right first time and my exercises might not be picture-perfect, but I've always found a way to adapt my fitness regime so that I can get the ability out of my disability.

Here are five things I've noted about going to the gym as a disabled person.

Yes, I need a bit of help... Don't we all?

At the gym, I usually am accompanied by a glamorous assistant who helps me get on and off the machines, pass me any weights I can't pick up easily, set up any machines that I can't sort you myself, and remind me when I've lifted 50 reps on one set and I think I've only done twenty (seriously, when I get into beast mode, I'm unstoppable haha).

Thinking about it, in many ways, having a gym buddy isn't that different to how many able-bodied people exercise: I'd highly recommend it as having someone to go to the gym with can keep you motivated and you can teach each other techniques.

Seriously though, going to the gym would be difficult for me if it wasn't for the guys who assist and motivate me: thanks to my old man Rob, Jase, and Kev for their assistance (and patience) over the years.

Just ignore the people gawping at you as you get on the off the machines.

Yeah, this is something that happens to me all the time, especially as my balance can be a bit skew-whiff when I try to stand up.

When I get on and off the machines (especially the treadmill and stepper), people often stare at me in some weird amazement that a disabled person can use a given machine and lift that level of weight. I'm fine with that and I sometimes jokingly stare back at them.

Yeah, there were a lot of people staring at me that day

People at my home gyms of the Village Wirral and the Underground Training Centre on the paradise peninsula (as well as the Esports UB in Barcelona) are used to my weird and wonderful ways, but it can be particularly interesting to watch people get nervous and start staring at me if I'm travelling and decide to go to a new gym.

If it doesn't work the first time, try again!

I've lost count of the amount of times I've been trying out a new exercise and I've had a dreadful first set because my legs have flown out halfway through, my posture has been dodgy, my range of movement not good enough, or I've misjudged the technique required completely.

This has happened far too many times to mention, but I've always gone back to these exercises to try again and many of movements I've struggled with first time have gone on to become favourites of mine after technique coaching or adaptations.

I love doing abdominal crunches now, but when I first started, they were really difficult to get right.

If there's a machine or exercise you struggled with during your recent workout, try it out again and ask someone to observe your technique as you do it, as this may provide the reason as to why you're struggling with it.

Adapt, adapt, adapt the workout to suit your needs

Sure, there are exercises and machines that you seemingly can't do (the cross-trainer and bike are two that I cannot pull off), however, I've found that seemingly impossible exercises can be adapted to suit the wheelchair user.

You've just got to be creative in adapting the gym to one's needs when you get in there and approach every new challenge positively.

A creative gym session at the Underground Training Station, Raby Mere (South Wirral)

To illustrate this, I've recently started training at a new gym, the South Wirral Underground Training Station, with Kev. This is a place that holds weight-lifting competitions and has none of the usual machines that I'd come to associate with my usual gym sessions (it proudly claims that "The place where the only machines in the gym... are the people who train there!!" on its Instagram page).

Action shot: pulling 35kg across the gym

Ergo, it was necessary to adapt my usual, machine-heavy gym session to something entirely different (Kev was incredible at helping me make the transition); the first session was a bit weird, but needless to say, resistance bands, punchbags, and ropes that I can use to pull 35kg across the gym have become my new weapons of choice.

Never ever give up!

Going to the gym isn't for everyone nor can everyone do intensive exercise and that's something society needs to come to accept and embrace. But, for those with a disability who can or want to exercise, society's ignorance and the barriers that ableist structures put in our place should be smashed through.

Sure thing, it can be incredibly annoying to have the eyes of ten people on you as you lift or transfer from an exercise to your chair, but those people will come to accept your weird and wonderful ways of lifting and treat you as normally as they do everyone else. It's great that more and more gyms are becoming accessible and adapting their mindsets for disabled users.

If you're a person with a disability (and your physician has said that it's okay), go and give your local fitness centre a go. Never, ever give up and, take the world by storm, and go and smash society's expectations.

Travelling as a wheelchair user - my experiences

As anyone who knows me will know, I’m a frequent traveller around Europe and the UK and so it feels apt that I should write a post about what it is like to travel frequently on planes, trains, metro systems, and buses as a wheelchair user (I don’t drive a car… yet!).

Come fly away with me – my take on plane travel as a disabled person

Over the last few years, I’ve been a frequent traveller between Liverpool and Barcelona for my university studies. Personally, I enjoy travelling by plane, although it took a bit of getting used to at the start. Usually one is required to book assistance to get on and off the plane and around the airport a couple of weeks in advance – or at the very latest a few days before.

So that the airline can ensure adequate space in the hold of the plane for my chair, I have to provide them with weight/measurements of the wheelchair and book the necessary assistance around the airport and an ambi-lift to get me onto the plane as I can’t walk up the steps. Providing the airline with this information has become much easier to do over the last few years as most airlines now provide online chat to book the assistance (yay, no more half an hour waits on expensive phonelines) and I have the information about my chair stored away, so all I have to do is copy and paste it into the chat.

Generally speaking, one has to arrive at least an hour and a half before and the assistance will help me through the airport: my chair has to be tagged, I need help getting stuff out of my bag at security control, and, as I weirdly like to sit at the back of the plane (it’s easier to get me on/off the flight and I’m closer to the toilet in flight), I often need to use an aisle chair to get me on to the plane – this way, my wild arms don’t knock anyone’s head off as I stumble awkwardly down the plane.   

Personally, my favourite airline is Ryanair - although they are often criticised -, as, as long as one is organised with assistance and gets there at least an hour before the flight, they are relatively hassle-free and do not require mountains of paperwork to be filled in on the day as it can be done online beforehand. I’ve travelled tens of times across Europe with Ryanair and never had a problem, whilst every time I’ve travelled with EasyJet, there has also been difficulties on the day and a mountain of paperwork on the day (I can’t write on paper, so this is always fun and rather unnecessarily time-consuming).

Trains are great – but only if there’s a ramp there

I love train travel and it’s my favourite way of getting across the country. Last year, I spent around 16-18 hours a week on trains crisscrossing the U.K. between Liverpool (where I was living), Birmingham (where I was studying), Manchester (for football matches), and London (for weekend work). So, you could say I’m something of a frequent train traveller then.

As a wheelchair user, I need a ramp to get on the train… That sounds simple, right? In reality, it can sometimes be anything but. Officially, one is supposed to book 24 hours in advance to get assistance at the station - although I've found that one can book as late as 1900 the night before (the time that the sheets are sent to the stations) and get assistance the next day. This means that I oftentimes can't spontaneously decide to take off on the train to visit a random city for the day as an able-bodied person can.

Train assistance varies significantly between stations - my local station, Liverpool Lime Street, are fantastic (as are Birmingham New Street), whilst other stations, such as London Euston can require a longer wait (my longest wait for a ramp was 30 minutes and I’d booked assistance beforehand too). 

Whilst there is normally a ramp to get me on the train (provided that I book ahead and get there 20/30 minutes before the train departs – not always easy when you’re relying on public transport to get you there), there have been many occasions whereby I’ve been left stranded at the station I needed to get off at when a ramp hasn’t arrived or arrived 5, 10, or 15 minutes late. This is where train franchises become key. They vary as to how they treat disabled passengers requiring assistance: on some franchises (Virgin and TransPennine spring to mind as great examples), the train manager can unfasten the ramp and get you off, whilst, on others, you can be stuck waiting on an empty train (sometimes one that is boarding for its next trip) for 15/20 minutes until a ramp turns up.

Another thing that’s a bugbear of mine is the limited facilities and seating that train companies give to disabled passengers. Legally, disabled passengers are not supposed to be allowed to get on a train where there is a broken or inaccessible toilet and should be seated in one where this basic facility is made available to them. Again, there are significant differences in my experiences of train companies in this area: Virgin are fantastic and will often move disabled passengers and their companions to carriages with a working toilet if this situation occurs, whilst, on around 60% of the services I’ve been on with a Midlands-based franchise, the one and only accessible toilet has been out-of-order and you’re often just expected to suffer on through (or told you can get off the train at Crewe to use the toilet and pick up the next service).

Train design is something that can be an issue too: most services have fantastic wheelchair seats with tables and adequate space, however on others, one is left sitting next to or staring into a toilet or cannot sit next to the people they are travelling with.

How accessible are the metro systems in London and Barcelona?

Over the last few years, I’ve had plenty of experience with the metro system of Barcelona and London. Both systems have adopted the policy of having sections of their platform raised in accessible stations, so that wheelchair users (and, indeed, others) can get on and off the carriages without the need for assistance. This is great and makes it so much easier to travel at accessible stations.

The downside is that not all stations are accessible for disabled passengers. In London, only 24% of Tube stations are accessible, making it rather difficult to get from A to B on the metro there (although the buses are great – more on that below). One of my most frequent routes in London involves me going from Hammersmith to Kings Cross and then having to cross platforms to get back to Euston Square, as only one side of that station is accessible via the lift. 

In Barcelona, 86% of their stations are accessible and more work is being done to improve this over the next few years; that being said, to get to my campus, I have to make three changes as the (fairly new) station nearest my campus isn’t accessible at all. In both cities, my fellow commuters will nearly always move out of the way of the allotted space so I can park my chair.

One of the big differences I’ve noticed between the systems – aside from how many of the stations are accessible – is that the fact that in Barcelona, there’s always a clear sign on the platform telling the wheelchair user where to get on, whereas in London, such signage is only present at stations that have a National Rail connection. Not having a sign on the platform makes it incredibly difficult to know where the space to park my chair will be, meaning that I sometimes have to drive across crowds of commuters to find an accessible carriage.

The wheelchairs on the bus go round and round…

Bus access, over the last ten years, has increased significantly: nowadays, almost every bus has a ramp and is wheelchair-accessible.

In theory, this is great, as one should be able to get on any bus one wants, however, in practice, this is often more difficult than it first seems. Badly-designed buses mean that there is often only one space available for wheelchair users on each bus and it is frequently the case that there is not a separate space for buggies/old people with their shopping carts; thus, these spaces can often be taken up by prams or others, meaning that there isn’t always adequate space to turn and park my chair.

Until recently, what was supposed to be the wheelchair space was not legally designated as such: thus, if there was a pram on the bus, the driver was not required to ask them to fold it up or make space for the wheelchair user. This often meant that I could not board the bus and would have to wait for the next one to come along (sometimes this could mean standing for 20/30 minutes in the rain/cold with little protection from the elements).

Fortunately, a recent ruling from the UK Supreme Court means that bus drivers now have to ask non-wheelchair users to move out of the space if a wheelchair user needs to get on. Hopefully, this will make it much easier to travel by bus as wheelchair user, without having to endure long waits because the bus that you want to get on has something other than a wheelchair in the wheelchair-designated space. Indeed, in recent weeks, I’ve been on several buses that have displayed freshly-minted “priority space for wheelchair users” stickers, so hopefully bus companies and their drivers will understand the needs of wheelchair users better in the times that lie ahead.

I find the buses in London and Barcelona to be fantastic for wheelchair users, as they have automatic ramps – meaning that the driver doesn’t have to get out of his cabin and that a wheelchair user boarding does not necessarily slow the bus down – and bigger spaces for wheelchair users: in Barcelona, there are two spaces on each bus for wheelchair users making it so much easier to travel.

Potential future steps to be taken

Let me be clear, I love travelling by public transport, yet, at present, travelling as a wheelchair user requires a heck of a lot of planning and forethought. Maybe one day in the future, trains will have level-access points so that wheelchair users can just roll on and roll off without the need for 24 hours’ notice just for a simple ramp.

In a dream world, somebody would find a way to make the Victorian era Tube stations of London have lifts so that all can use them, not just able-bodied people, but, sadly, finding the political will for such a capital-intensive investment is highly unlikely.

Maybe more thought will be put into designing buses and trains that are intelligently thought-out: putting in fold-up seats so that prams can park easily on buses rather than have to fold-up for wheelchair users (this could also double as a second wheelchair space, if needed) and planning spaces so that wheelchair users are not sat next to/looking into smelly toilets for several hours.

On balance, in the last few generations, great progress has been made towards accommodating wheelchair users on public transport, but that doesn’t mean that things can’t improve.   

All you wanted to know about my disability, but were too afraid to ask

So, Ellis: what sort of disability have you got then?

I have a condition called quadriplegic dyskinetic cerebral palsy. Don't worry, it's not as terrifying as it sounds.

Basically, the cerebral palsy – I’ll henceforth refer to it as CP - bit translates into “brain problem” and this was caused by a brain haemorrhage triggered by a lung collapse shortly after my birth. The dyskinetic bit refers to the fact that it affects my movements and causes shaky over-movements, whilst ‘quadriplegic’ means that none of my four limbs escape unscathed as the dyskinetic movements affect both my hands and my legs (my left-hand side is often said stronger than my right-hand side though).

I was also 15 weeks premature (born in July ’94 – during the World Cup -, rather than October) and a twin: my brother, Jonathan, died in November 1994 after a valiant fight against the odds (proud of you, wee bro).

Simply put, I wouldn’t be here today without the great care and attention I received from the NHS nurses and doctors and I’m forever grateful for our free-at-the-point-of-use National Service… Long may it continue.  

When was I diagnosed with the cerebral palsy?

I was 13 months when I was diagnosed with CP. My mother, the wonderful Brónach, was working as a hairdresser in Derby at the time, despite living on the Wirral. 

Grandma Rosie and I at my graduation party last year... Love this woman so much!

In fact, my earliest memories are of being pushed down St. Chad’s Road in Derby by my grandmother, Rosaleen, delivering the local church newsletter.

When I was three, Mrs. P stopped working so that I could get all the care and support from the local NHS that I needed to help me thrive. At this time, I was forever visiting physios – to help with my movement – and speech-therapists – who helped me learn to speak properly (although this didn’t happen until I was three and a half, I’ve pretty much never shut up since). 

The work of the NHS physios and speech therapists at that time transformed my life and I’m convinced that without the support I received back then, I wouldn’t be able to do many of the things I can now.

As a kid, what was life with a physical disability like?

I was fortunate enough to be able to attend my local Catholic mainstream school, St. Joseph’s in Upton Village and I had a pretty conventional education and upbringing: my disability wasn’t a barrier and I came to terms with what I could and couldn’t do quite early on.

My most prevalent primary school memories are of playing football with friends on my walking frame: obviously, I wasn’t Lionel Messi or anything, but I was just another one of the lads. As a young person with a physical disability, integration rather than differentiation was the most important thing. My parents strove to (and did) make my life as normal as possible for me growing up and I’m incredibly grateful to them for that.

The one hindrance I had during for most of my primary school years was that I was either pushed around or walked on my walker (for shorter distances). I received my first electric wheelchair aged 9 – in fact, I still fondly remember driving around the house in it for the first time, It was great to be able to move longer distances under my own steam and having a powered chair made me significantly more independent.

Around the same time that I got an electric chair, I also started attending Stick ‘n’ Step, where regular conductive education sessions taught me the simple things and motor skills that I needed to live independently. These were often things that “normal” able-bodied people take for granted, like putting my socks on, getting dressed, and doing up shirt buttons. There was a time (I was 13/14) when every visitor to the Palmer household had to endure the ritual of watching me take my shoes off and put them back on again – God love me, I was so proud of the steps I was taking back then.

Why I strongly dislike being called “inspirational”

Random people who hardly know me and know even less about my life oftentimes come up to me and label me “inspirational” just for the pure feat of existing as a disabled person.

Sure, there’s great things I do, but they are often not related to my disability and if people want to call me “inspirational” (other adjectives like ‘bizarre’, ‘random’, and ‘slightly strange’ are available), they’d be better using it for things like living, working, and studying in three different cities for my final year of my degree, speaking three languages fluently, writing unique academic papers, making great coffee, and working on several projects obsessively at once.

Okay, for many people, seeing and engaging with a (relatively) well-integrated disabled person might provide them some bizarre form of inspiration, but to me, it’s just everyday life: it’s far from perfect, it’s far from inspirational.

New challenges lie ahead

Credit: @TheNomadBrodie

As ever with my cerebral palsy, there’s always new barriers to be overcome and I’ll always struggle valiantly to push them.

I can get dressed now, go to the gym, make my own coffee, and perform an increasing number of everyday physical tasks. Most of these tasks were unthinkable just a few years ago. It's never a revolution: it's about being able to do the small, incremental tasks on an every day basis.

There are, however, new things that must be overcome: chief of these is that I want to learn to cook basic recipes for myself. I’d also like to drive at some point too (although time and money may limit this).

What other questions have you got about my disability? Feel free to leave a comment below and I’ll answer it ASAP.

© All photos and words are copyright of Ellis Palmer (unless stated). Please kindly ask my permission before reproducing.

Here we go... That dreaded first post!

Man, it's been a long time since I last blogged... Around 4 years, to be exact! Anyhow, let's start afresh.

So, you may ask: who am I? I'm a 22-year-old recent graduate who is presently reading a Masters at the Universitat Pompeu Fabra in Barcelona. My undergraduate degree was undertaken at the University of Birmingham - with an unforgettable Erasmus year at the Facultat de Dret of the Universitat de Barcelona - in Political Science and Hispanic Studies.

I'm passionate about lots of things; above all, I'm intrigued by specialty coffee, football, languages, and, last but not least, politics.

When it comes to specialty coffee, this was an obsession of mine that developed in my freshman year at Birmingham... Four years ago, I walked into SixEightKafe, asking for a black coffee and ending up ordering an Aeropress; that was my "eureka" moment there and then, and Starbucks' coffee never passed through my lips again.

It's been an adventure that's allowed me to brew beans from many different roasteries and a plethora of origins.

My preferred brew method, on balance, is probably the Kalita Wave, although I do enjoy a v60 with washed coffees and the Aeropress is, slowly but surely, working its way back into my life after a long absence. I'm already planning to review my top coffeehouses here in Barcelona, as well as write about coffee from different roasteries and origins around the world.

When it comes to football, I'm a Manchester City supporter - to avoid accusations of glory-hunting, I have been a season ticket holder at the Etihad since 2003 -, but I do also enjoy just watching the beautiful game.

I've been known to back Hull City (where my dad's from), Derby County (the team of Mum's hometown too), and my local club, Tranmere Rovers, when they are not playing against the boys in sky-blue (that said, I doubt Tranmere will be facing City anytime soon).

I've recently started doing podcasts for the World Football Index about La Liga and the Premier League, so you should check those out if you're a football fan or you just want to hear what I sound like (warning: my voice will probably send you to sleep). Hopefully, I'll be able to share my thoughts on City and football in general with you guys. 

I'm trilingual: my mother tongue is English - in which I have a fairly middle-of-the-road accent, despite attending a Merseyside comprehensive for five years -, although I'm also fluent in Catalan and Spanish/Castillian. In terms of my preferred language, I'm in love with Catalan... I could speak it all day and frequently do. Expect posts on my learning of the language of Dalí and Gaudí and how people increasingly seem to think I'm a native speaker or French.

Finally, I'm something of a political anorak: I mentioned earlier on that my academic life focuses on political science and this is something that I really enjoy getting engaged with as well. I'm a Labour Party member, although I'm no Corbynite: I backed Burnham and Owen Smith (yes, I did almost write Owen Jones there). Politically, I think Corbyn has been good at shaking things up in the Party, but I fear that his poor communications strategy will ultimately not lead his message being successful in attracting working-class voters in post-industrial areas back to the party. Anyway, let's leave that for another day. My research interests focus on far-left parties and nationalism in stateless nations and you can find my dissertation on the Candidatura d'Unitat Popular in the Catalan Countries here.

It seems that I always miss out the most obvious thing that people notice when they meet me... No, not my ugly mug!

I'm a wheelchair user, due to the fact that I have a condition called dyskinetic cerebral palsy that affects my movement and balance. It was caused shortly after my extremely premature birth at 25 weeks when I weighed 1lb 14oz - as my grandmother always says, I looked like a skinned rabbit. I'm thinking about writing posts on what it was like growing up with a bloody obvious disability, higher education as a disabled student, and comparing public transport in the UK and Barcelona, so watch this space.

I'm a digital native and some might describe me as a social media guru. I've got a number of clients, including the digital news publication, EA WorldView, and trendy West London specialty coffee shop, Amoret Coffee. If you're interested in expanding your personal, brand, business' social media profile, don't hesitate to get in touch with me for advice and support.

I hope you have enjoyed reading this post: here's hoping it'll be the first of many! Meanwhile, follow me on Twitter and Instagram.

Adéu-siau,

The Master Elf