Just what the doctor ordered

I intended to write about Occupy Wall Street today but when I checked Facebook first, as is my routine, I ran across a video posted by my friend Heather that choked me up and changed my mind.

The clip was of a man named Dick Hoyt and his son, Rick, who’s my age. Father and son compete in marathons, duathlons and triathlons – including Ironman competitions – all over the country. And because of Rick’s situation – he was diagnosed as a spastic quadriplegic with cerebral palsy – his amazing and loving father pushes his wheelchair, pulls him in a raft and propels him in a special bicycle built for two because Rick once told his dad that when they’re running, he doesn’t feel handicapped.

You’ll notice I didn’t use that word to describe Rick. He doesn’t strike me as handicapped at all. He’s different, sure, but he’s staggeringly fortunate, if you ask me, to have parents and friends who love him as much as Dick and Judy Hoyt and others obviously do.

Rick communicates with the help of a special, interactive computer designed just for him. (His first words weren’t “Hi, Mom” but rather “Go, Bruins!”) His parents fought to get their son admitted to public school – Rick eventually graduated from Boston University – and to see Rick as having potential just like everyone else.

In fact, Team Hoyt’s potential to touch, inspire and motivate others is pretty damn high. They biked and ran across the United States in 1992, covering 3,735 miles in 45 consecutive days, and the 2009 Boston Marathon was officially their 1,000th race. If that doesn’t impress you, there’s something wrong with you.

I know some people are cynical and find the Hoyt’s story cheesy in this volatile time, when cops are shooting people in the streets with tear gas and rubber bullets. But this story of heroism, devotion, perseverance and the truly remarkable power of love is just what the doctor ordered for me.

At Team Hoyt’s website, it says that when someone asked Rick once what he would give his father if he could give him anything, Rick replied, “The thing I'd most like is for my dad to sit in the chair and I would push him for once."

If that doesn’t choke you up, you’re dead.