After a rainy, restless night, I awoke to sun-sun-sun, and I decided to have fun-fun-fun (. . . til my Daddy takes the trailer away). I managed to borrow a bicycle, which I excitedly piled into the van. After dropping off Andre and Michel at the starting line, I zipped over to the halfway point of today's leg of the race. Then I straddled the bike and rode back down the George Park's Highway to meet up with the racers. My plan was to hook up with Wayne (a real gregarious guy and the marathon's only "unofficial racer" -- because he uses cranks to help himself along). He was one of the slower racers, habitually near the back of the pack, and I thought I could help keep him motivated and provide him with some company. Cycling through the Alaskan countyside was incredibly exhilarating! It felt good to finally get some exercise (and offered much better ambiance than the Jack Lalanne back home). After seven miles of pedaling (stopping only once to take a nice photo of the leaders racing along the scenic highway) I caught up to Wayne, and I fell in stride with him, Anastasia (a fellow volunteer with the same idea as I), Ed (an equally slow-paced racer) and Ed's helper. All five of us talked and joked our way to the midway point, completing the long journey and near last place finish with big smiles on our faces.
-------------------------"Movin' On Down The Highway . . ."-------------------
Today's first place bib went predictably to Andre (will he win them all?!), widening his already comfortable overall lead, and Tony claimed the 2nd spot once again, as well. But the race for third place was more exciting and suspenseful . . .
First, some background:
During the first couple days of the marathon, with only a few minutes separating them each time, Jeff had come in third and Michel had to settle for fourth. Consequently, at the start of today's race, Michel was fourth place in the cumulative rankings and a good 6 minutes out of "medal contention" (prize money was only awarded to the top three finishers). After the first half of today's leg, wherein Michel made up some ground, Jeff's lead was winnowed down to mere seconds. Thus Jeff and Michel were virtually tied (Jeff retained a narrow lead) when the "back nine" of the leg began. Michel and Jeff stayed together during the second half of the race, jockeying for position only to "draft" each other (basically, they took turns using one another as a human windshield in order to conserve energy) -- that is, until the last mile or so . . .
. . . Which brings us back to the narrative proper:
As Jeff and Michel came down the final stretch, they remained positioned in their typical 3rd and 4th spots, respectively, with barely a car's length between them. Suddenly, Michel shot forward with a surge of power, rocketing past Jeff (like he was standing still!) and crossing the finish line with a dramatic third place finish. It was an amazing thing to witness! Even more importantly, Michel's margin of victory was just enough to move him up to third place overall in the standings, supplanting Jeff as a potential prize winner.
Subsequent to this, Michel's whole mood and personality have changed. Typically a nice, but quiet (even sombre) man, Michel has been beaming all afternoon. He is pumped up about his showing today and psyched about the possibility of finishing out the marathon in third place (or better). His excitement is contagious, and I found myself rooting for him to win the whole thing (though catching his fellow countryman may be nigh impossible). For now, I was just thrilled to be chauffeuring around two of the top three racers in the field -- it felt good to be part of a winning team! Go Team Quebec!
When we arrived at our new campsite (a lodge actually -- it has a bar-equipped gathering hall and indoor sleeping quarters, both of which we will make use of tonight), Jim was organizing a rafting trip down the Nenana River. Coincidentally, it is the very same whitewater Canyon Run that I had passed up, in favor of a calmer ride, earlier in my trip -- except this time it was free! As soon as we arrived at the pre-trip staging area and were shown the get-up we had to wear, I knew I was in for a completely different rafting experience from the camera-friendly "pleasure cruise" last time out. Whereas before I just slipped on rubber pants and boots, now there was a complete dry suit ensemble (we were told that since the water was less than 40 degrees and rough enough to toss us out of the raft, we would run a real risk of hypothermia without it). Now, I believe in safety as much as the next guy, but this rafting company went a little overboard (no pun intended . . . well, maybe). I was to be outfitted in a futuristic rubber suit, Neoprene booties, wool gloves -- in turn, covered with rubber gloves, wool caps and neon life vests. The guide who modeled for us was an odd hybrid: he looked like part astronaut, part scuba diver and part SWAT, with a little Star Trek thrown in. The strangest part of the whole thing is that the guides wouldn't even let us dress ourselves (they said the suits were too expensive), so a guy named T.J. zipped me up -- without even buying me dinner first, might I add!
I was assigned to the same raft as Chase, Kem (the racer I was originally supposed to assist), an older volunteer with her son & daughter and a 14-year-old airforce groupie (his father is stationed at Eilson). On the walk down to the river's edge, I had a brief conversation with Kem and saw at once how positive, upbeat and garrulous Kem is (it wouldn't be until the evening that I would learn just how amazing his attitude is!). I also witnessed firsthand how adept Kem is at maneuvering his wheelchair: he reared back and worked his way down the steep, rocky embankment without once putting the front of his chair down or losing his balance (and to think when I first saw the slope, I was certain I would have to help carry Kem down to the raft!).
The raft trip was awesome! The rapids were merely mid-grade (mostly class 3), but it was a thrilling ride nonetheless. Plus, things got really interesting near the end, when the guide told us we could jump out of the raft and "swim" if we wanted to. I thought he was joking at first, but he said the water was calm enough and the high-tech suits would keep us perfectly dry. So naturally, I took the plunge! At first, it was really cool (in more ways than one!) -- I floated down the Nenana, eyes transfixed on the billowy clouds overhead, content to drift wherever the river took me . . . But then the "cool" turned to "cold", and I climbed (was hoisted, actually) back onto the raft. A little later on, we were allowed to go in again, and this time I did a flip into the water (but once again, the chill soon overwhelmed me and I found myself back on the raft -- man, I felt like such a lightweight, because the others who went in the water didn't seem to be bothered by the temperature nearly as much as I).
I decided to remain on the raft for the rest of the trip, turning my attention to the canyon which surrounded us. There was an abandoned train track which ran atop the canyon walls, and steady erosion over the years had caused many signs, sections of track and even small freight cars (maybe mine carts?) to fall into the Nenana. Somewhere up there was a camera crew, which was filming our rafting adventure as part of its one-hour television documentary on the Midnight Sun Wheelchair Marathon (the TV special will air some time next month on local cable channels throughout the country). I kept my eyes peeled for the tell-tale glare of the camera lens, hoping for some extra face time (I have already been caught on film a few times before, but with all the editing yet to be done, who knows if I'll make the final cut -- I'm anxious for my "15 minutes" of fame, though truthfully I'd settle for 15 seconds, which is more likely).
At the end of the trip, all the rafts decided to have a splashing war. It was a brutal battle, and no one escaped unscathed. (I even had a secret weapon -- Jim was following the rafts in his kayak, and I sent him ahead to surprise the enemy.) At the drop-off point, Odeil, Val and I jumped ship and went all out at point blank range. I even tackled Val at the climax of the final salvo.
Soon it was time for the moment of truth -- the guides had sworn up and down that the special suits we wore would keep us absolutely dry (even if we "swam in the river for an hour"), and now we would see if the reality lived up to the hyperbole. Sure enough, one by one, as the outfits came off, all the volunteers were bone dry (including those who had gone swimming with me or gotten mercilessly splashed [or, in the case of Val, submerged] during the water fight. All the volunteers that is, save one. Can you guess who the unlucky SOB was? Yep, 'twas I! Yours Truly was completely drenched (No wonder I had felt so much chillier than the others after that first dip!). Murphy's Law strikes again!
Back at the campsite, I was ushered into the lodge and treated to the best meal of the trip. Over 55 members of the local community turned out to meet & greet the athletes and volunteers, and they served us a wonderful variety of homemade dishes. It was a scrumptious feast, and I ate more than my fill!
After dinner, Andre was awarded $175 and a special trophy for posting the fastest time wheeling up Mt. Healy (yes, that Mt. Healy -- shudder, shudder), which comprised most of today's leg, making it especially difficult. In one of the most gracious and selfless acts I've ever witnessed, Andre gave the money to Don (The Race Chairman) to buy every one drinks with, and he gave his award cup to Tony (Mr. Perpetual Runner-Up), whom he called his "constant inspiration." It was a touching moment.
As if today wasn't inspirational enough, we now get to the most memorable part of the evening. After playing (and decisively routing) Johann and Val in a game of Hearts (Patrick's 10-year-old son, Davin, was my "partner"), I went to the bathroom on the upper floor of the lodge (and no, smarty pants, that's not the memorable part!). I was just heading back down to play another game when something told me to have a look around upstairs. It didn't take long until I heard a familiar voice, which ended up leading me to a room where Kem Hearns was giving a talk. He was seated in the front of the room in his wheelchair, addressing a modest audience of about two dozen people. I was curious as to what this was all about, so I decided to take a seat and listen in. Little did I know that what I was about to hear would change my perspective on life.
Kem was presenting his life story. It seems he wasn't always disabled. In the early eighties, Kem was a promising young athlete (headed for the Olympics, in fact) when his life was dramatically and tragically changed forever. It was New Year's Eve, 1984, and 27-year-old Kem Hearns was driving to a party when a drugged-up teenager broadsided him, sending him into a coma. When he eventually regained consciousness, Kem found himself paralyzed from the eyes down, unable to speak more than 3 or 4 garbled words. He was given little chance to be anything but a vegetable for the rest of his days. Kem was understandably devastated, but he refused to give in to self pity and give up on life.
Slowly, but steadily, over the course of two years, Kem got back his speech and the use of his arms. Eventually, he even regained rudimentary use of his legs, able to walk a little with great effort, though he was still mostly confined to a wheelchair. Until that hoped-for day when Kem might again run marathons on foot, he decided to put his renewed athletic efforts into wheelchair racing, a sport which he quickly proved adept at. All was going well until a year later, when tragedy struck again (in the middle of a wheelchair marathon, no less). Somehow, a car veered into the racing lane, and Kem hit the car head-on, flew 50 feet into the air and landed full-force on his back -- paralyzing him all over again!
Though many people might have thrown in the towel at this point, Kem again refused to quit. With a Herculean effort, and several years of physical therapy, Kem painfully worked his way back into a wheelchair (but he's never again walked so much as a single step). Amazingly, he reentered the world of wheelchair racing and kept pushing himself and improving his abilities, until ultimately setting the world's wheelchair speed record (an astounding 57.5 miles per hour!). But still, this was not enough -- something was missing in Kem's life. It took Devine Inspiration to show him what it was. Kem, who claims God as his hero (never blaming Him for either tragedy, when Kem very well could have started humming Depeche Mode's "Blasphemous Rumours" -- to the contrary, Kem credits God with helping him recover each time), suddenly realized what The Good Lord intended him to do, what he was meant to do: namely, Kem would devote the rest of his life to helping other handicapped individuals get to where he was.
Thus, Kem formed the Kem M. Hearne foundation, an organization dedicated to helping the nation's disabled become self-sufficient. Of course, any foundation needs money to operate, so Kem came up with the idea of gathering sponsors for a series of fund-raising cross country wheelchair journeys. These included a 3,000 mile trip from Disney World to Disneyland, which he completed in an impressive 45 days, and a circuitous 10,000 mile/3 month odyssey (accompanied by the Olympic Torch) from Vancouver, B.C. to New York City. This last trip culminated with Kem pulling himself up 366 steps to the top of The Statue of Liberty, whereupon he lit the Olympic Torch in honor and memory of all disabled people in America (Wow!). When an audience member asked Kem how he traveled such great distances in a wheelchair, he replied simply, "one push at a time." Such events as those described above have brought national recognition to Kem's cause, as well as over a million dollars in donations.
---------------Kem (in front) With Some Of The Other Racers-------------It seems that Michael Landon (yes, Mr. Ingalls himself) heard all about Kem and was so impressed that he wanted to highlight Kem's story in an episode of a new television show he was creating. Unfortunately, Michael died shortly before production was to begin on the new series. Since that time, other people have expressed great interest in producing a movie and/or book about Kem, but he declined these offers because he felt they were exploitative. Recently, however, Kem is in talks with a company he likes which has proposed making a five million dollar movie about his life story entitled, "The Greatest Comeback."
Sadly, Kem may not live to see the film get made. My jaw dropped as Kem completed his monologue with a stunning announcement. Unbelievably, after surmounting all the aforementioned hardships (becoming a better man in the process and an inspiration, even savior, to others with similar handicaps), life has dealt Kem yet another tragic card -- he has cancer. In fact, he's riddled with it. Kem was diagnosed with both Leukemia and Melanoma (including more than two dozen malignant lumps on his body) and the doctors told him he only has 4 months to live! Of course, Kem is the living embodiment of the phrase, "never give up," and even this latest unfortunate turn of events is not bringing him down -- in fact, the doctors' grim prediction was made over a year ago. Kem remains just as optimistic, enthusiastic and extremely outgoing as ever, and to all appearances, he is a happy man. As he does in his marathons and cross country adventures, Kem says he's going to continue tackling the road of life "one push at a time."
As Kem wrapped up and started thanking everyone for coming, the entire audience rose as one to give him a standing ovation, most pausing at least once to wipe away a runaway tear (there wasn't a dry eye in the house).
After recovering from Kem's story, I asked him to autograph a picture for my kindergarten class and gave him a hug. I let him know how deeply his story touched me -- indeed, how it had made me reexamine my own life. (I vowed never again to take my health [or mobility] for granted.)
Needing to do something social and light-hearted before going to bed, I worked my way back downstairs to see if anyone was up for some cards. Davin, Val and Daniele decided to join me. I learned two new card games from Germany: Daniele taught us "Mau Mau" and "Fire." Mau Mau is a lot like Uno, and Fire is a cool game where you sit in a circle and pass cards face down to your neighbor until someone gets 4-of-a-kind.
The evening ended on a final inspirational note, stemming from another tragic life story. I asked Daniele what the problem was with her legs (she spends most of the time in a wheelchair, but I've also seen her walking around), and she told me that she has a rare connective tissue disease. She explained that since the tender age of 12, all of the connective tissue in her body has steadily deteriorated. Hence, she developed lots of problems with her muscles, particularly her legs and shoulders. It wasn't long before her parents sent her to an institution where she was treated as an invalid and made to be totally dependent (the staff didn't let her attempt to walk unaided or even dress herself -- they went as far as to strap her in bed at night for fear that she might roll off and hurt herself).
When Daniele grew too old for the juvenile home and was about to be shipped to a different institution, she patently refused and set off on her own. With lots of pain and effort, Daniele spent the next few years learning (or relearning) to do all the basic things for herself which the rest of us take for granted. More than this however, she recently went back to school for her degree, and she currently has a job in computers. She is now completely independent! I left our conversation incensed with the treachery and daily horrible realities of life in the German juvenile home (this was an institution devoted to treating and caring for the physically disabled?! . . . Daniele might actually have been better off just tossed into the streets!) and impressed with Daniele's courage and determination. I instantly developed a newfound respect and fondness for her.
--------------Daniele And I At One Of The Finish Lines-------------------After a quick call to Christine (it was so good to hear her voice), I retired to my room (that's right my room -- no tent for me tonight!) and went straight to bed, falling asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. It had been an emotionally draining day, to say the least.
3 comments:
I thought it was a T-bird that was to be taken away? Or, perhaps you said trailor because of that awful thing you were forced to tow around. hmmm.
OH, how did I miss the update? hahaha. What happens next?! What happened to Kem?
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