Battling multiple sclerosis with legs lifts and shoulder pulls

by Grace Rauh

Most Palo Alto High School graduates remember Angelo Cortopassi as the biology teacher who won the hearts and minds of his students for 26 years.

  At 67, Cortopassi still has the engaging spirit and sharp wit for which he was famous. He retired from teaching at Paly seven years ago, but he hasn't retired from the profession entirely. Today Cortopassi keeps his love for teaching alive as head trainer at Accessibility Fitness in Santa Clara. He works one-on-one with clients, offering heart-felt encouragement as they move from one station to the next -- from chest presses to arm curls.

At first glance Accessibility Fitness, which opened a year ago in Santa Clara, could be any of the gyms cropping up like weeds in Silicon Valley. With weight and elliptical machines, stretching mats, free weights, and a wall covered in mirrors it blends in easily on the surface.

But Cortopassi's clients couldn't belong to just any gym. And Cortopassi is head trainer there for a reason.

He and many of his clients suffer from multiple sclerosis (MS), a debilitating physical condition that leaves some people wheelchair bound and others to combat seizures and unpredictable spasms in their arms and legs. Since age 35, Cortopassi's body has been breaking down on him, but the tireless teacher is putting up a formidable fight and has kept himself out of a wheelchair, a feat he attributes to exercise. His unwavering positive attitude can't hurt either.

At 5 feet 4 inches and 125 pounds with cropped salt-and-pepper hair, Cortopassi is lifting weights, working out, and in the best shape of his life. Nearly every morning he and Paul O'Lone, co-founder of Accessibility Fitness, train together. The two have become close friends and inspire each other to work hard.

"Here is a 67-year-old man who never gives into this disease," O'Lone said. And O'Lone knows what a challenging task that can be. In 1993 he was named Mr. North America in bodybuilding. Four years later he was diagnosed with MS. He fell into a depression and began using a wheelchair.

Working with Cortopassi has convinced O'Lone that it is possible to lead a full life with MS. Cortopassi's steadfast positive outlook is contagious and gives O'Lone hope for his own future.

Cortopassi was a fit, athletic man in his thirties. A former ranger in Yosemite for five years and an avid runner, Cortopassi first realized something was wrong with his body when he tripped unexpectedly over a street curb while out for a run.

"It took me five years to find out I had MS," he said.

Cortopassi cried all the way home they day he was diagnosed, but declared he would continue his life in exactly the same way as long as his body allowed. He didn't tell anyone at Paly about his situation.

Cortopassi has progressive MS, which means his condition worsens over time. At first he could teach and move about without any real outward signs of the internal damage. But slowly his body began failing him. His legs wobbled and he looked like he had been drinking -- he couldn't walk in a straight line. In 1990 -- 6 years before his retirement -- Cortopassi told colleagues and students about his disease.

He was direct with his students and said he wouldn't be treating them any differently, and therefore they shouldn't treat him differently.

"It's very important to me that people carry on their own lives and don't worry about me," Cortopassi said. "That's why the students liked me, because I was honest with them."

His hands have grown numb and his feet unreliable, but against all odds, Cortopassi has kept himself out of a wheelchair. He uses a walker with wheels and handbrakes to get around and he shows off his arm muscles proudly. Round bulges the size of tennis balls pop out unexpectedly from under the rolled up sleeves of his white polo shirt when he flexes. He can press 40 pounds with his hands when lying down.

"I'm the strongest I've every been in 67 years. I can see my muscles," he said.

Cortopassi's workout and strength-building regime have allowed him to remain independent. He drives himself to work each morning in his 1974 green Chevrolet Malibu and he takes care of his aging mother.

"On Wednesdays I take my mother shopping and on Friday I go there for dinner. She doesn't have very good eyesight so I have to help her," Cortopassi said.

His compassion for helping others extends to his work at the gym. Cortopassi's wife Lynne likes him to return to their Mountain View home after his 1 p.m. personal training session is over, but he occasionally sticks around to assist other people with their workouts.

"These people need my help to have a better quality of life," he said.

Cortopassi brings his years of classroom experience into the gym when he works with clients, many of whom are wheelchair bound.

"Make sure you never show you're unhappy in a class. Make sure you're positive all the time," he said.

Cortopassi says his work as a personal trainer is easier than teaching classrooms filled with teenagers. His clients come to Accessibility Fitness of their own volition, and they want to move their legs and exercise.

"I don't have to motivate them to study for their test," he said.

The weight machines at Accessibility Fitness are all designed to snap a wheelchair in place, to prevent it from rolling away. O'Lone first conceived of the idea for the gym when he tried to workout at regular fitness centers and discovered they had few wheelchair accessible machines.

Cortopassi is at home in the gym, where he sets weight levels for clients and counts down reps for them during each set.

The former biology teacher hasn't slowed down much since his days at Paly.

"I'm still wild, you know, at 67," he said. "I feel like I'm 38. I'm so happy and content, and I think that's because I'm retired too." E-mail Grace Rauh at grauh@paweekly.com