An Athlete With a ‘Spirit That Won’t Quit’ Life is No Spectator Sport for Aurora Racer Who Lost Her Leg

By Josh Stockinger Daily Herald Staff Writer

Melynda Baker-Schnee gave herself only five minutes to cry before she gave doctors the OK to amputate her left foot about a year ago.

The decision wasn’t easy to swallow for the Aurora athlete, who once dreamed of going pro as a mountain-bike racer.

But it was a fairly simple decision to make.

For nearly a decade, Baker-Schnee fought complications from a soccer injury that destroyed nerves in her foot and, later, a car crash that left a deadly infection in her leg.

So when doctors told her she could lose part of the leg or possibly her life, she chose the leg – even if it meant she might never ride again.

It didn’t.

“I’m not big on human failure,” the 37-year-old says.

Starting over

Less than a year after Baker-Schnee fully recovered from surgery, she’s pushing herself into a new realm of competition.

She is a marathon hand-crank wheelchair racer for the Achilles Track Club, a nonprofit group for disabled athletes.

In January, she completed the New York City Marathon – her first since the amputation – then went on to win the women’s division of disabled hand-crank riders in the Miami Marathon this month.

Baker-Schnee continues training six mornings a week, splitting her time between facilities in St. Charles and Elburn, with hopes of getting strong enough to ride 26.2 miles in less than two hours and be competitive enough to race abroad.

She has no intention of settling for less.

“She probably gets it from her mother,” Baker-Schnee’s father and coach, Russell Baker of Elburn, says of his daughter’s determination. “Even if I was her age, I don’t think I would make it” as far as she has.

The accidents

Baker-Schnee grew up the only child of athletic parents and intended to play sports throughout her life.

At Kaneland High School, she said she “did everything imaginable,” from track and field to softball to bowling.

She stayed competitive in college with intramural sports, mountain biking and skiing while earning degrees in political science and psychology.

It wasn’t until Baker-Schnee tripped on a soccer ball that her world began crumbling.

The simple accident in 1996 caused severe nerve damage in her foot and started a five-year battle to walk again.

Finally, after dozens of hospitalizations and doctor visits in four states, Baker-Schnee underwent progressive surgery to implant a nerve stimulator in her leg.

The treatment was working – Baker-Schnee was employed and driving again – when, just months later, she was involved in a car crash.

Injuries from the 2001 fender-bender destroyed the nerve stimulator. And repeated attempts to fix the nerves left her leg rife with infection.

At one point, Baker-Schnee appeared to be on her deathbed.

But she kept fighting.

And in November 2004, she let doctors perform the amputation.

“In my heart, it was the best thing for me,” she recalls. “I allowed myself to cry for five minutes and said, ‘I’ll see you in heaven someday.’

“That was it,” she continued. “I got my life back, and I haven’t really cried since.”

The cyclist

Watching Baker-Schnee in training these days is a workout in itself.

At the Bike Rack in St. Charles, you can hear her steady breathing over Iggy Pop’s “Lust for Life.”

Sweat beads crawl down her face as her arms thrust forward the handles of a stationary, hand-crank wheelchair that looks like an adult-sized low-rider tricycle.

Resting nearby is the trophy from the Miami Marathon and a pink prosthetic device poking out of a running sneaker.

None of the other training cyclists there has them.

“She doesn’t ask for any favors,” says Jason Pollack, an endurance coach who teaches a training class at the Bike Rack. “She wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The finish line

Baker-Schnee calls herself a “motivator” for able-bodied athletes – living proof that there’s no such thing as a disabled spirit in a true competitor.

Her attitude today mirrors the approach she’s taken toward her injuries for years.

It’s also a message she carries with pride.

“A lot of people look at me and they’re like, ‘Wow,’” she says. “But just because I lost my leg doesn’t mean I’m going to stay home.

“I have a spirit that won’t quit.”