A moment in time.

A cool Saturday morning, in July 2021. Triathlete Alexa Leary is out cycling, a stones’ throw from Noosa, Queensland favourite playground.

At 70 km an hour, then 75 km, and climbing perhaps even to 80 km an hour, she is hurtling down a hill.

And then, her front wheel clips the bike in front of her.

Another moment in time.

Alexa, who had won a medal two years’ earlier at the triathlon junior world titles, is tossed over the handlebars, and lands on her head. She lies unresponsive. Broken on the ground.

Her father Russell, who had planned a Saturday afternoon beer and bet, is not far behind.

At first, just for a moment, he doesn’t know that Alexa is centre-stage of the commotion ahead.

He soon finds that out, although it will be later that he discovers that her ribs are broken. Her skull is broken too. And her leg. Her lung is punctured.

And her body will soon turn black with bruises. Russell will also learn that Alexa has suffered catastrophic brain damage.

But at this moment, a tiny slice in time, he just knows that his family’s life has changed forever.

When he and Alexa’s mum Belinda tell the story now, as they have a dozen times in the past few weeks, life then moves in slow motion.

Watching Alexa – a sporty, smiling athlete – motionless. Waiting for the paramedics. The helicopter from the Sunshine Coast to Brisbane. Doctors. More doctors. Specialists. More specialists. Trying to find their car in a big inner-city hospital car park.

And then the goodbye, that seemed to last a lifetime. She couldn’t live, Russell and Belinda were told. It was simply not to be.

Emergency surgery was a last resort. And it would mean removing part of their daughter’s skull.

Imagine that wait, as parents. Interminable, where long, long moments merge into each other.

Alexa needed help to breathe, and one complication became another and another. A blood clot. Then a fever. Expect death, her parents were told.

Russell and Belinda said goodbye to their daughter, over and over.

Imagine that. A moment in time, you never, ever want to repeat. And yet this family lived through them, for months.

And then, a miracle.

Alexa Leary, who stole our hearts at the Paralympics this week, lived.

And since then, there’s been a million moments in time; many of them miracles.

She was told she would never talk again. And now, her family joke, you can’t silence her.

She could never walk again, those in the know, said. And yet there was no stopping the march to the dais to collect this week’s gold medal.

Alexa Leary has a traumatic brain injury. And a big heavy shiny gold medal, after anchoring the 34 points 4×100 metre mixed medley relay win.

It wasn’t just any win. It was a phenomenal, history-making win.

But to Alexa, perhaps, it was no harder than learning to brush her teeth again. And wash her own hair. To talk. To walk. To grow her hair again. To get her driver’s licence.

Her dad wears the family’s journey on his face. He and Belinda, for 111 days, never left their daughter’s bedside; nodding off to sleep each night for months and months wondering if they would ever hear her voice again.

I watched Russell Leary in Brisbane, in June this year, as Alexa took to the blocks at the Brisbane Aquatic Centre in the finals for the S9 50 metre freestyle race.

A father desperate for another moment to celebrate. A father already bursting with pride.

And a father who struggled to hide his tears as his daughter realised she had just won a spot to represent Australia in the Paralympic Games.

“I’m so proud of myself,’’ Alexa announced poolside that night.

And we said the same this week. As she entered the water in Paris, Leary was about seven seconds behind the leaders – Netherlands.

She knew it would be the race of her life. She had no choice; she had to win, she told herself, before mowing down the competitors in front, and winning in a Paralympic record time of 4:27.08.

A moment in time, every single one of us should celebrate.