Be ready! You will cry watching what a father's love can do for both father
and son, a father's love which the world needs very much. They are really an
inspiration for both the able-bodied and disabled. You must read this article
and watch the youtube video at the end of it. It brought tears to my eyes and
I don't cry easily. The video touches me in ways I never knew. The story is
about human courage. The story is about father and son. I'm now a father to
two. I realized there is so much more I can do for my children.
This is the most unbelievable thing I've ever seen. I am absolutely in AWE
of this man. Please watch the video, too — I am sitting here at my computer
at a loss for words. There are no words for this, only tears filled with emotion.
A MUST Watch Video
This Father does it all just for the purpose of seeing the smile on his son's
face. If you want to see the most profound reflection of the Father's love for
us that you've ever seen ... watch. Time taken to watch this is the best time
you've ever spent on email.
Read this and then watch the video at the end. You won't be disappointed.
[From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly]
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 would
sit in the chair and I would push him once."
World's Strongest Dad Part 1
World's Strongest Dad - Dick and Rick Hoyt Part 2
Where there's a will, there's a way, and Dick Hoyt's love for
his son has given him the strength to go the distance over and over again.