My hero..

is My Dad, Cleveland.

In 1994 my Father was hit by a mack truck. Literally.
Punctured his spleen, bladder, intestines, broke ribs, broke both feet in numerous places, legs, shattered pelvis. He was air lifted to Boston and stayed there for what seemed like forever. While at the hospital in Boston, he had numerous blood transfusions, had a catheter and colostomy bag inserted. He got a blood and staph infection at the hospital. After what seemed like months he was moved to a more local hospital, and where I could actually visit him. (I was under 16, and under 16 year olds at the time could not visit ICU.)
Then began rehab. He had to learn how to walk again. He had lost 60 lbs mostly muscle from being bedridden for so long. He also had to learn how to function day to day with the catheter and colostomy bag. (for those whom do not know, help you pee and excrete waste when your organs can't do it alone)
He was in a wheelchair then crutches and the finally walking on his own.
The accident changed everything. My father had to have skin grafted over all the wounds. My father's feet would swell if he was on them for longer then 10 minutes at a time. My father is permanently disabled and can never work again, because of that accident.

In Feb, 2010- my father went to a hospital after having what felt like an anxiety attack. After 3 days of tests and not being told anything of what was wrong, they told my Father that he needed a triple arterial bypass surgery. They stated that he was so sick, that if he had even a minor heart attack, there was no way he could've recovered from it. He would die.
They operated on my Father. when they cracked his sternum and opened him up, they saw that all 4 arteries were completely blocked. The doctor did not have my Father's permission to bypass the 4th artery (and my father was completely out and unable to approve)  but he made a life saving call-and did it anyways.
After surgery, the doctors explained how they were going to put my father on a pain medication regimen as he recovered from having his sternum cut open (which they say is the most painful part). My father absolutely refused, took out the morphine IV drip they insisted on having, and finally relented to having Tylenol with Codeine.
On Nov 25th 2010 my Father did his first road race. a 5k that I was one of the co-race directors of.
Today, my Father walked "until he couldn't walk anymore"-just to see how far he could go. I put in the route on mapmyrun.com and my Father walked 7 miles today.
SEVEN MILES.
Now I've done road races longer then that- but I have never had to go through what he did.

Some people don't know this, but every other road race I do, I ask for an XL tee shirt and give them to my dad. He wears them proudly, hoping someone will ask about the race so he can say "My daughter Lisa is a runner!"

what my Father doesn't know... is that every single mile that I am sweating, huffing, puffing, I dedicate to him. I think about all he has gone through and what little complaining he did to get to where he is right now.
and If that doesn't inspire you to Shut up and Run- then I don't know what does.

My dad after his surgery..