At the end of March, 2008, it will be my 53rd birthday. Hey, and next month (April, 2008), it will be my wife and I’s 27th wedding anniversary. Time is sure zipping by, feels like we’ve only been married for about five years.

CF is usually characterized by chronic obstructive lung disease, pancreatic insufficiency and abnormally high loss of electrolytes caused by excessive sweating. The course of CF is dismal. The average survival age is 20 years. Some live longer. Treatment consists of heavy medication (30 pills a day) and painful therapeutic procedures for many years. Since early childhood, thick mucus scarred my lungs. I suffered countless influenza infections. In an effort to loosen the clinging mucus that clogged my breathing passages, my father tried to bring me relief by pounding my thoracic cavity, a procedure that left my chest red and raw. I coughed so violently that I could not inhale quickly enough to deal with the next fit of coughing. The pain felt as if my head was exploding. The days when I coughed up blood were attended by fear, panic and unbearable pain. My condition at the age of 16 was beyond hope. I was expected to die.

As a kid growing up in England in a soccer family (my dad was a pro in Scotland and both of my older brothers were great players), I was barely able to run 20 feet before dropping from sheer exhaustion, which always ended up in me coughing my guts out (A picture of Craig as a little boy on the right). But I wanted to be like my dad, so instead of him having me run around, I would stand in one place and kick a soccer ball to him. So over the years, both of my legs and knees got stronger from just kicking the ball. Influenced by watching a Bruce Lee film at the local drive-in theater, in 1972, I got bitten by the martial arts bug. It seemed a logical transition to take my soccer ball kicking habit and with a few tweaks here and there, begin to kick a punching bag or the air.

And then a remarkable event happened. One day, a Bruce Lee film appeared at the movies. It piqued my interest to pursue a path of studying Chinese kung-fu. Lee’s books often described anecdotal tales of how abandoned children, given up for dying from unknown diseases, were adopted by monks who intercepted their lives in wondrous ways. The emaciated children were taught chigong breathing methods, a secret practice known by this special sect of Sho Lin Monks. The children eventually became experts in martial arts perpetuated by legends of ancient China.

I met an actor named Lee Li. Although he initially denied any secret knowledge, Lee eventually admitted his special expertise and offered to teach me chi-gong. A cold rainy morning greeted my first lesson. Lee instructed me to climb a nearby mountain and wait for him at the top next to a statue of Buddha. The monsoons were early so it rained continuously. After waiting in the rain for five hours, I heard the monks begin their pre-lunch chanting. Frantically, I ran down the mountain and explained to Lee that I was late for school. He said, “See you tomorrow at seven.”

Part of the Oriental tradition is to test a student’s sincerity, patience and discipline. Lee had me standing in the rain, five hours a day, at the top of a mountain for 30 straight days. Upon completion of this ordeal, against his teacher’s wishes, Lee accepted me as his first, last, and only student.

Chi-gong can be one or a series of breathing exercises that are performed standing or lying down. All breathing is done with the mouth closed. Lee taught me one movement a month for four months. Five months later and to this day, I have been off all medications and therapies. I finally found a way to control CF and not have CF control me. In 1986, to publicize chi-gong as a therapy for CF, I walked 26 miles/day for 115 days to complete successfully a heavily publicized 3,000 mile walk across America.