Hi guys and welcome back. This is day 16 of my
100 days of growth on Bloom Talks. Today's episode
is one of those stories. It's about Alex Zanardi,
racing driver, double car championship, Paralympic
gold medalist and frankly one of the most relentless
humans on the planet. He lost both his legs in
2001 crash that should have ended his life and
then he went on to win at life again. This isn't
just about sport, it's about identity, purpose,
and a very practical art of starting again without
waiting to feel ready. Alex Onardi was born in
October 23rd, 1966 in Italy. He grew up in a
family that valued grit and resourcefulness,
and he found his way into karting as a teenager.
There are even lovely legends about his DIY approach
to early carts when he was a kid. His path to
the very top was not a straight line, he fought
his way there through the European ladder Formula
3, then Formula 3000 and eventually Formula 1
in the early 1990s. The results in Formula One
were mixed, some bright moments including a 0
.46 at the 1993 Brazilian Grand Prix, but no
podiums and plenty of mechanical heartache. Still,
his feedback, racecraft and stubborn optimism
made him one of those drivers other drivers respected.
And then he did the thing that changed everything.
He left Formula One for America. In the kart
championship, think indie cars of the era, Alex
didn't just do well. He won the whole thing twice,
back to back in 1997 and then 1998 with chip
racing. He became a fan favorite for fearless
overtakes, late race charges and those iconic
post -win donuts on the front straights. Yes,
the car donuts, not the glazed kind. sadly. But
2001, after a tough Formula One return with Williams,
he'd come back to kart and on a September afternoon
in Germany, with his grandstands full and the
season winding down, everything changed again.
September 15th, 2001, Euro Speedway in Germany,
late in the race, Alex left the pits on a cold
tyres. The car snapped, slid across the grass
and came to rest sideways on the oval. Alex Tagliani
at 200 miles per hour had no time to avoid him.
The impact tore the car in half. It was one of
those moments that makes even seasoned medics
go silent. Track doctors, Terry and Steve, later
described the scene as like a bomb had gone off.
Both arteries were severed. The blood loss was
catastrophic, around 70 to 75 % of the blood
volume, and his heart had stopped more than once.
And yet, they got him back. He was airlifted
to Berlin. Surgeons worked for hours. Both legs
were amputated to save his life. If you ever
wonder whether trauma teams are real life superheroes,
yes, yes they are. He survived, barely, and then
he started the long work of building a new life.
When Alex woke up he used humor to take back
the room. It's not that he didn't understand
the gravity, he just refused to let the worst
thing in his life get the last word. He shifted
his questions from Why me to, okay, what can
I do now? If you've ever coped with something
awful by cracking a choke at the wrong moment,
you're among friends. I do that all the time.
He learned to move again, to balance again, to
exist in the body that felt unfamiliar. And he
attacked rehab with the same focus that he used
in racing. Data, goals, progress, repeat. Therapists
sometimes had to make him stop training. Of course
they did, it's Alex, and he wanted to get back
to the way things were, or a new way, a new version
of him. And then a new idea arrived, maybe speed
wasn't over, maybe speed just needed new equipment.
20 months after the crash, Alex returned to the
lawsuit ring, I'm probably pronouncing that wrong,
to finish what the wreck interpreted. The 13
laps he never got to complete, he drove a specially
prepared champ car with hand controls, ran at
real speed quick enough for a top five grid time
on the day and parked it with a kiss on the bodywork.
Tell me that image doesn't live rent free in
your head right now. He then raced touring cars
with BMW, and even won races with a hand -controlled
style, because of course he did. But the next
chapter, the one that went global, wasn't on
four wheels. Alex found hand cycling. It sparked
the old competitive fire in him. He trained,
tinkered, and improved until he qualified for
the London 2012 Paralympics. At Brands Hatch,
a circuit he knew intimately from his car racing
days. He won gold in the H4 time trial, added
gold in the H4 road races and took silver in
the team relay. His celebrations lifting the
hand cycle over his head was pure Zanardi theatre.
He wasn't done though, in Rio 2016 in his 50s
he won gold in the H5 time trial. Gold in the
mixed team relay and silver in the H5 road race.
Age is a number, determination is the fuel. He
kept winning world titles in between because
why settle down when you can keep collecting
jerseys? In June 2020, during a hand cycling
event in Tuscany, Alex collided with a truck
and suffered severe head and facial injuries.
He underwent multiple brain surgeries and a lengthy
coma. Updates were cautious and rare, but there
were hopeful moments. Signs of response communication
with family and then it news that after 18 months
he was home to continue rehabilitation with a
fighter spirit working on physical neurological
and speech therapy his wife daniella is a powerhouse
public updates remained limited the family had
asked for privacy and fair enough What we do
know now is that he's home, around his people,
continuing this long rehab grind, still moving
forward in the way he always had. Recovery isn't
passive, he turned rehab into a project plan,
data, goals, micro wins. Closure is something
you build, 13 laps at that ring, that's art.
That's choosing the ending you can live with.
Joy is allowed with the donuts, the celebrations,
the theatre. He kept it fun and you don't have
to be fearless to be brave. And a quote I love
from London 2012 when a reporter asked about
racing five times faster at Brown's Hatch in
the old days. Alex Grinden said, I'm Alex Zanardi.
I always have to come up with something. If you've
been putting off Your thing, because timing's
not perfect, consider this your nudge. You do
not have to wait to feel fearless. You just have
to refuse to stop. This was day 16 of my 100
Days of Growth. If Alex's story hits you like
it hit me, follow the show, share it with a friend,
and come back tomorrow when we're building more
courageous stories. Until then, stay safe, keep
growing, and Be gentle with yourself.