
Now, I need you to concentrate. Really concentrate. Imagine you’re 8 years old and just learned to ski. You realize, with some adjustment, that you’re really good at it. You spend the next 10 years training, even moving to a training facility in Colorado where you eat, sleep, dream, and embody skiing. You are at the peak physical conditioning for a skier and you go to the Olympic tryouts. You’re ready. You’ve worked as long as you can remember, really, to get here. And you take fourth. Not one to wallow, you pack up your car and leave Colorado. It’s time to find out what now-metaphorical mountain you’ll tackle next.
Oh, that little adjustment you made? Back there, before you had even gotten to high school? You took off your prosthetic leg. Turns out, you skied better without it.
This story isn’t fanciful: it belongs to Leslie Pitt Schneider. A Twin Cities “limb-loss lifestyle expert,” this nurse, lawyer, activist, and powerhouse is a fitness, fashion, and travel guru. Having lost the lower half of her leg in an accident at age 6, you might say (to borrow from the similarly incomparable Dolly Parton), Schneider’s now busier than a two-legged man in an ass-kicking contest, and she’s loving every minute.
So why didn’t I start by telling you about Schneider’s limb loss? Because it’s never been central to her own story of self. It’s just… the way it is. She wasn’t trying out for the Paralympics; she was the third best skier in the world, and she did it on one leg. That part was incidental. As she remembers it, her family took great pains to make sure she never felt different. She got good prosthetics—in fact, now she works for the company that has made her prosthetics since childhood—and she kept moving.
With the release of the first in a series of short documentary films about her life and experiences, though, Schneider’s getting asked about her limbs a lot more than she ever expected. “Being one of the pioneers, saying ‘We are elite athletes,’ to advocate for disabled sports and to see it now makes me very proud,” Schneider says. It was a little odd to find herself the subject of these films, underwritten by her employer, but being able to share her “limbitless” life is invaluable.
“People ask about my positive outlook, but I don’t have anything to be bitter about. I’m a firm believer that if you practice gratitude it gives back a thousand-fold. I’ve had experiences I never would have had had I not lost my leg. When life is a little bit challenging, if you can step back and be grateful even for the challenges, I think that puts things in perspective, too,” Schneider shares.
As for why you’re reading about Schneider on our studio’s blog, well that’s because of the “fitness” part of her limb-loss expertise. As Schneider explained to me over coffee, not only is keeping your body healthy and mobile good for anyone, it’s particularly important for those with disability: an injury or other problem causes asymmetry in the body and near-constant pain. For Schneider, Pilates was a godsend: “I am the biggest ambassador of Pilates, for me and for people with limb loss. I think it’s such a great form of exercise because it focuses on the core, and that prevents a lot of the back problems so many with prosthetics have—when people have limb loss, it’s harder on the other side. A lot of studies have even shown that, long-term, the wear and tear on the residual side is up to the level of a professional athlete.” So, she says, “Pilates keeps me strong but doesn’t put me at risk of further harm.”
Schneider has been with Emily Easton, our owner, since the beginning, and we’re so thrilled to be a part of her orbit. She has an infectious smile, arms chiseled by kettlebells, great style, a fantastic story, the most welcoming personality, and humility. And she absolutely radiates strength. Please watch below to see the first part of Schneider’s new documentary series (keep an eye out for our very own Emily Easton!) and be sure to check out her blog, OneLifeOneLimb.com.

Wow! I just happened to see this ProInformis video this afternoon, raising awareness of body diversity, and it seemed perfectly timed, having just written about Leslie. I wonder what it would be like for any of us to see a mannequin made to our exact image. Would our scars seem visible? Would we notice “imperfection”? Or would it just be weird and special all at once?
If the video doesn’t appear to be there in my comment, just hit refresh!