Post by feline13 on Jun 19, 2005 18:14:41 GMT 8
saw this in karerista e-group .. thought it would be nice to share --- inspiringly cool story to the DADs of PinoyMTBiker or soon-to-be-dads..
Strongest Dad In the World : The Hoyts ~ June 05
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."
Issue date: June 20, 2005
~~~~~~
Strongest Dad In the World : The Hoyts ~ June 05
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."
Issue date: June 20, 2005
~~~~~~