My grandpa, who died before I was born, was wheelchair-bound for the second half of his life, and I was told that he handled it well, but internally it took an incredible toll on his body. When he finally passed away, they found that his basement was littered with machinery, engines and pre-cut body panels. Apparently, in the last few years of his life he threw himself into the idea of building his own plane to restore his freedom on his own terms.

Bit of a sad story, but it never fails to motivate me past my usual, procrastinating self.