So I bumped into a friend who happened to be camping out on the last turn of the Marathon last week. He had a camera and caught me near the finish. At the top of Hereford Street, a slight incline gives way to the gentle downhill finish on Boylston Street. I know the corner very, very well. Thanks for taking the pictures, Doug Engel. They remind me how imporant it is to be happy in the moment for this moment is your life.Bye.
Hey friends, thought I'd share a photo of yours truly at a recent Cheerios event! GREAT old school video of me racing with one of my good friends (and a kick ass, humble, Navy SEAL) Don Hyslop is playing in the background. Nice picture on the box, too. Here's the text that describes the program. It's quite the honor!Mike Savicki, a disabled Navy veteran, is one of twelve athletes appearing on a special edition Cheerios box honoring disabled military veteran athletes. The Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) and General Mills released the special edition Cheerios box as part of the 2009 HealthierUS Veterans Champions® Challenge.
Savicki was selected from over 500 competitors in the 28th National Veterans Wheelchair Games in Omaha, Nebraska. He won five gold medals in track and field and is one of the most accomplished athletes in Games history, having won 58 gold medals from 1991 – 2008. He plans to compete this summer in the 29th Annual National Veterans Wheelchair Games in Spokane, Washington.
He says, “Being recognized on the Cheerios box is an honor that transcends sports and disability. Americans recognize the Cheerios brand and know its history in the family. I’m humbled to have been chosen for my accomplishments as a military veteran and an athlete.”
Mike Savicki is also a 16 time finisher of the BAA Boston Marathon® and the first American to finish a marathon in the new Millennium. He is a handcycling national champion and a triathlete who has his eyes set on completing a half iron distance (70.3 mile) triathlon in 2009.
The National Veterans Wheelchair Games is the largest annual wheelchair sports event in the world. It is a multi-event sports and rehabilitation competition for military service veterans who use wheelchairs for sports due to spinal cord injuries, amputations or certain neurological conditions.
Special edition Cheerios boxes are currently available for sale in military markets and Veterans Canteen Service (VCS) retail stores across the United States.Don't skip breakfast!Bye.
Every morning a gazelle wakes up knowing it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed... Every morning a lion wakes up knowing it must outwit and outrun (at least) the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death... It doesn't matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle, when the sun comes up, you'd better start running.Bye.
About ten miles into my workout on Sunday, I had the urge to slow down and take it easy. It was the first really warm and sunny day of spring and the breeze had morphed into an annoyingly brutal headwind. I was pushing on pace but my heart monitor said I was working a bit harder than expected. I wasn’t feeling it. With Boston just a couple weeks away, taking it down a notch didn’t seem like too bad an idea.
Then something happened. A loose pack of cyclists went by me just as I began to climb a small hill a few miles from home. The riders in the front simply gave me little waves as they switched gears in unison but one lone cyclist who was clearly struggling to hang on to the back of the pack did something different. This cyclist sat up, slowed down to my speed and said, “dude, seeing you working out here is the most inspirational thing I have seen in a long time. You are amazing.”
If you know me well, you are fully aware that hearing words like those is usually enough to get me to climb out of the racer, smack the speaker across the face and curse him or her out into next week without missing a push. You see...
I hate being called inspirational
I don’t think there’s anything too amazing about exercising
Chatting up someone as he begins a climb after 10 miles at race pace under a hot sun isn’t too smart
My reaction to the comment amazed even me. I thanked the cyclist with my usual, “right on, man, good work to you, too.” Then, rather than mumbling something sarcastic under my breath and secretly wishing that he roll a tire or hit a pothole, I added, “catch those bastards and push the pace.”
He said “thanks,” put his head down, shifted gears and began turning his cranks as if my words ignited a fuse deep in his soul. Just as he crested the hill, focused on his new mission, I heard him call back, “dig deep, my friend, we are the lucky ones.”
At that very moment, I, too, felt something inside come to life. I found a new gear. I think it was because he called me “lucky.”
Is it right to call someone in a wheelchair “lucky?” Most people don’t think so. I happen to think a bit differently.I am lucky.
You see, a wheelchair, just like a bike, is a vehicle of freedom. Moving it forward under our own power, rolling under the hot sun and feeling the burn are the byproducts of effort, drive, determination and hard work. It is a privilege we earn. The readiness to dig just a bit deeper when the road turns up and the body hints it wants to take it easy is what makes us lucky.
About a mile from the house, I crossed the cyclists again. This time we were heading in opposite directions. You will never guess who was in front of the pack pushing the pace.
And you’ll never guess who else had already decided to kick it up a notch, too. Nice workout.
Luck is something that comes to those who are ready for it.
Bye.
