[Read First then watch the video at the end of the story]
I have come across this story a few times and every time it comes back to me and I read it again I am truly inspired and in awe of how amazing the human spirit is. I must warn you that it makes me tear up Every Time!
[Source: Sports illustrated]
I try
to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text
messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots. But
compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.
Eighty-five
times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times
he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4
miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the
handlebars--all in the same day.
Dick's
also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing
and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling
look a little lame, right?
And what
has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life.
This
love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick
was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and
unable to control his limbs.
"He'll
be a vegetable the rest of his life," Dick says doctors told him and his
wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. "Put him in an
institution."
But the
Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around
the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was
anything to help the boy communicate. "No way," Dick says he was
told. "There's nothing going on in his brain."
"Tell
him a joke," Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was
going on in his brain.
Rigged
up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch
with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words?
"Go Bruins!" And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an
accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out,
"Dad, I want to do that."
Yeah,
right. How was Dick, a self-described "porker" who never ran more than
a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. "Then
it was me who was handicapped," Dick says. "I was sore for two
weeks."
That
day changed Rick's life. "Dad," he typed, "when we were running,
it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!"
And
that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that
feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and
Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.
"No
way," Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single
runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick
and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to
get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they
made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.
Then
somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?"
How's a
guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going
to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.
Now
they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting
passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?
Hey,
Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? "No way," he says. Dick
does it purely for "the awesome feeling" he gets seeing Rick with a
cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.
This
year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more
than 20,000 starters. Their best time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35
minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these
things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a
wheelchair at the time.
"No
question about it," Rick types. "My dad is the Father of the
Century."
And
Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart
attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged.
"If you hadn't been in such great shape," one doctor told him,
"you probably would've died 15 years ago."
So, in
a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.
Rick,
who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give
speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every
weekend, including this Father's Day.
That
night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him
is a gift he can never buy.
"The
thing I'd most like," Rick types, "is that my dad sit in the chair
and I push him once."
Love is the most beautiful gift we can give
ღ
Namaste!