He and his father participated in, among other things, the Boston Marathon and the Ironman Triathlon, as he was pushed in a wheelchair, towed on a raft, etc. Rick was left severely physically, but not mentally, disabled after an extremely difficult birth, and his parents refused to give up on him or institutionalize him, stating that they knew from day 1 that he was not a, if you will, vegetable.
His father, Dick Hoyt (AKA RIchard Sr.) died two years ago. RIP to both of them.
My ex-wife used to make fun of me because I’d routinely get teary eyed whenever I watched Real Sports, a show focused on sports-related human interest stories.
One that will give you feels is about the Hoyts. One thing I recall is that Dick, the father, overcame some coronary issue due to all of the running he did; he credited his son with saving his life. He also insisted that he would never have been able to run the same without his son with him.
I never met them, but I saw them at the 4 Bostons that I volunteered at and it was like seeing royalty. Everyone respected the hell out of the two of them.
I also read that the dad had started exercising for health reasons, and took his son with him one day when he had signed up for a race and his wife was unavailable or they didn’t have anyone to watch him, and ran with him in his standard wheelchair. Ricky said afterwards on his letter board, “I felt like I wasn’t disabled” and that led to them racing together more often.