Part II: Straining to Progress, as Family Challenges Mount

Day 1 at Project Walk fell on their 13th wedding anniversary. In years past, John and Marci Pou might have gone to dinner.

Instead, in a strange place thousands of miles from home, Marci watched as John fought to maneuver his broken body. It was June 26, 2006, the start of a regimen that would push John to the limit physically and challenge both of them emotionally and even spiritually.

Taking hold of John's sneaker, Chris Corpuz, a Project Walk recovery specialist, pulled his left leg straight out in front of him.

"All right," Corpuz directed, "bring your knee up to your chest."

John focused, trying to visualize the movement, something that 10 months earlier would have been as natural as blinking. But his leg hung immobile, until the trainer himself slowly pushed it in.

"Push it out," Corpuz said. Again John tried, but he just couldn't make a connection between what his brain wanted to do and his lifeless limb.

Corpuz then fanned John's leg out to the side and said, "Bring it in."

John's left knee suddenly arched in a spasm, and Corpuz asked: "Are you firing that, or is that just going on its own?"

John flashed a rare grin and chuckled. "That's just going on its own."

He wasn't entirely sure what "firing that" meant, considering he was a quadriplegic with no mobility in his legs following a diving accident.

John and Marci, along with their two young children, had left their home in Iron Station, N.C., seven days earlier on this cross-country quest to find him help. Their destination was Project Walk, a spinal cord injury recovery center in Carlsbad, Calif., that pledged improved function through exercise therapy.

Marci had discovered the place, but that didn't stop her tears as they began the trip west.

"Don't be sad," their kids, Chase and Kacie, tried to tell her. "We'll be back."

But Marci had no idea when, or if, that might happen.

They had vowed to give it a year; John's progress would be scored at six-month intervals. If he didn't show gains, the Project Walk staff would recommend quitting the program.

Improvement would be rated on a 0-to-40 scale that measured John's ability to roll, sit, kneel, stand and, the hope was, to walk — with spotting, assistive devices or even nothing at all.

To start out, John scored a 4.

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Marci kept a diary, chronicling their journey.

Day 5: "Began the day w/leg workout. John was able to get basic leg connection on (right)!"

Day 8: "John's able to stretch arms above head & touch his hands together."

Some Project Walk clients had, literally, walked out the door, getting around with pole-like crutches, canes or walkers. But John and Marci were told they would have to be patient.

Don't set timetables. Don't compare, because each client is different. Setbacks happen. Progress comes when it comes.

Those fits and starts would mark an incredible family endeavor. John and Marci shared details openly in interviews with The Associated Press over 18 months, inviting a reporter to join them during the lows and highs of exhausting therapy sessions.

At first, though, they weren't even entirely sure how the therapy was supposed to work.

They knew about actor Christopher Reeve, who in 2002, seven years after he was paralyzed, began feeling light touch and pin pricks and regained some motor function after making exercise a hallmark of his rehabilitation.