On September 12, 2026, I will be taking on the Pikes Peak Challenge in support of the Brain Injury Association of Colorado (BIAC), an organization that provides education, resources, advocacy, and hope for individuals and families affected by brain injury.
This cause is deeply personal to me. The first time I climbed the Pikes Peak Challenge in 2010, I was supporting brain injury survivors through my work. This time, I am the survivor.
My story began in 2002. What started as a beautiful mountain bike ride through the Air Force Academy became the moment that changed my life forever.
During that ride, I suffered a traumatic brain injury involving my frontal and temporal lobes. I was unconscious for more than thirty minutes. When I woke up, I did not know what year it was. I believed it was still 1999. I thought I was living in New Jersey even though my life had already moved to Colorado. Entire pieces of my memory were simply gone. Some of them still are.
The accident also caused significant injuries to my spine, leading to years of pain and eventually back surgery. Yet despite the trauma, I refused to let my injuries define me. I continued doing what I loved most—living life outdoors in the Colorado mountains.
I ran obstacle races, trail races, and marathons. I hiked mountains, biked trails, paddle boarded alpine lakes, and embraced every adventure I could. Nature became my sanctuary, my therapy, and my place of healing. Most of all, it was and is where I feel closest to God.
For years, I continued moving forward, grateful for the life I had rebuilt. Then life changed again.
Beginning in 2019, I started experiencing unexplained falls. The falls became more frequent and more severe, causing multiple concussions. Then, in November 2023, I fell down an entire flight of stairs and lost consciousness. Doctors began searching for answers. What they found was overwhelming for me.
I was diagnosed with a brain tumor and severe spinal cord compression in my neck. On April 22, 2024, I underwent major cervical spine (ACDF) surgery to prevent permanent spinal cord damage.
Just one month later, on May 23, 2024, everything changed once again. As a complication from that surgery, I suffered a vertebral artery dissection that led to a stroke. By the grace of God, I survived.
What many people do not realize is that brain injuries and strokes often leave invisible wounds. People see me smile and assume I am healed. They tell me I look great. They tell me I seem normal.
What they do not see are the daily challenges. They do not see the neurological fatigue that can overwhelm me without warning. They do not see the dizziness, balance problems, migraines, ringing in my ears, vision changes, nerve pain, or the moments when words are difficult to find. They do not see the emotional toll of grieving parts of yourself while learning how to embrace who you have become.
Brain injury changes lives. It changes families. It changes futures.
One of the greatest lessons I have learned is that surviving is not the same as recovering. Sometimes surviving means learning how to live with a new reality while continuing to move forward with courage, faith, and hope.
There were many moments when fear threatened to consume me. There were nights filled with tears, uncertainty, and prayers. Yet through every setback, every diagnosis, every surgery, and every frightening chapter, God carried me. When I felt broken, He reminded me I still had purpose. When I felt afraid, He gave me strength. When I could not see the road ahead, He walked beside me.
Today, I continue fighting to reclaim pieces of my life. Some days are victories. Some days are survival. But every day is a reminder that I am still here.
That is why I am climbing. I am climbing for every survivor who feels unseen. I am climbing for families navigating the challenges of brain injury. I am climbing for those who are still searching for answers. I am climbing to raise awareness about the invisible realities of traumatic brain injury and stroke.
And I am climbing to support the Brain Injury Association of Colorado so they can continue providing life-changing resources and support to survivors throughout our state.
If my journey has taught me anything, it is that no one should have to face brain injury alone.
Thank you for supporting BIAC, for supporting survivors, and for supporting my climb.
My scars tell a story of survival. My faith tells a story of grace. By the grace of God, I am still here—and I am still climbing.
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Linda Bazylevich
$10.00 -
Vincent Nicholas Kunz
$25.00
Thanks for the donation, Linda.
Thanks for donating, kiddo! I love you so much!