Monica Cost
Monica Cost

On a quiet afternoon in 2012, Monica Cost's life changed in an instant. Out on a routine 40–50 mile cycling training ride just outside San Antonio, she was struck from behind by an 82-year-old driver wearing cataract glasses, who collided with her while she was also likely distracted by her phone. The impact from the 55 mph crash launched her 30 feet into the air, shattering her spine and thrusting her into a new reality: one of unimaginable pain, uncertainty, and a prognosis that offered her less than a one percent chance of ever walking again.

"I remember feeling as if a train was right behind me, and then nothing," Cost recalls. "I was paralyzed from the waist down. I couldn't even get an MRI at first because the swelling was so severe. And when they told me I might never walk again, I thought: No. That's not my story."

Cost had just completed her first IronMan the previous year. Her body had been at peak athletic performance. But in the wake of the accident, the diagnosis was grim: a complete spinal cord injury, deemed 'a complete paraplegic.' Most never recover from such a classification. But Cost and her mother were unshakable. "You don't know this woman," her mother told the doctors. "She's going to walk."

And she did. Through relentless physical therapy at the hospital, months of rehabilitation, and a deep reserve of grit, Cost slowly reclaimed her mobility. By her 40th birthday, just months after the crash, she had set an audacious goal: to walk into her celebration. With the help of orthotics and sheer will, she did just that.

But her story didn't stop at survival; it started from there. Prior to being discharged in 2015, Cost met another paraplegic assigned as a peer to offer guidance, but it all felt generic. He talked about where to get a car and where to get medical supplies, but not how to get her life back. "That moment made me angry," Cost says. "It lit a fire in me. I thought: I can do better. I have to do better for others who are going through this."

Later that year, Cost founded the Now You See Me Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to supporting Texas-based athletes, particularly cyclists and runners, who suffer catastrophic injuries while training. The foundation also offers financial support to families who've lost loved ones during training, as well as funds for spinal cord injury (SCI) research.

Now You See Me Foundation
Now You See Me Foundation

"I knew there had to be a better way to guide people through this kind of trauma," says Cost. "It's not just about wheelchairs and ramps; it's about dignity, direction, and rebuilding a future."

Her first act as founder was a symbolic one: organizing a charity bicycle ride. Still recovering and walking with crutches and braces, Cost pushed herself to the limit and beyond. She ended up with a stress fracture, but also raised critical awareness and support. "It was worth it," she says. "Every bit of it."

Since its launch in 2015, the foundation has grown steadily. The organization offers direct financial aid to injured athletes, such as for ramps, wheelchairs, and physical therapy expenses. For families who have lost their loved ones, the foundation offers assistance through scholarships and memorial donations.

While early support was mostly from small fundraisers and local donors, Cost has worked to secure grants and scale the organization. In 2021, the foundation expanded its scope to include SCI research, forging partnerships with spinal centers and medical institutions. "The mission is twofold," she explains. "We support athletes, and we support the future of spinal cord healing. Both are urgent. Both are personal."

Now You See Me Foundation
First Installment to UT Health San Antonio for Spinal Cord Injury Research

Cost's journey didn't end with her spinal injury in 2012. In the years that followed, she endured not one but two additional traumatic experiences: a gym injury that required more surgery and a breast cancer diagnosis at age 50. Since her accident, she has undergone 19 surgeries, eight of them since her cancer diagnosis. "I live with chronic pain every day," she says. "But I also live with purpose. That's what keeps me going."

She's passionate about raising awareness, not just for SCI, but for health advocacy in general. "If something feels wrong, go get checked. Advocate for yourself. There's no such thing as a small thing when it comes to your body," she advises. "And yes, there is help. There are support groups, grants, and financial resources out there. You just need to reach out."

Today, as the Now You See Me Foundation marks its 10th year, Cost is gearing up for the organization's largest fall fundraiser to date. The event will support both athlete assistance and spinal cord research. Cost is seeking corporate sponsors, community donors, and podcast appearances to share her story and scale the foundation's impact.

She's also working closely with local officials on public safety campaigns like the three-foot rule for cyclist safety and many more new initiatives. "We're losing lives because people won't put their phones down," she says. "We can't keep ignoring that."

More than a decade after that nearly fatal crash, Cost's body still carries the marks of trauma. But her voice, her vision, and her relentless determination speak of something far greater: the power of turning pain into purpose.

Monica Cost is not just a name that survivors know. It's a name that now stands for advocacy, endurance, and the belief that being seen can save lives. "I didn't disappear or sympathize with myself," she says. "And I want every person going through something life-altering to know: they don't have to either."