To Support a Selfless Man

Friends,

Alexey Talai spent a night in our home last year—he’s a friend of a friend—and in 24 hours taught my family and a couple friends that all people are capable of accomplishing great feats to benefit others. He has single-handedly created a home for both orphans and people with disabilities in his country of Belarus. Single-handedly isn’t a fair description…since Alexei, at age 16, lost both arms and legs to a decades-old World War II landmine buried on his grandfather’s farm.

Alexei has come upon hard times with funding, not only his orphanage, but also his personal home. He and his wife have recently split and she has custody of their two boys. (I know nothing of the circumstances.) Understandably, according to Belarus law Alexey is liable to provide a home for his boys; a man of his character would do nothing less. The struggles he faces—with his physical condition and immovable devotion to his foundation for the needy—are nearly incomprehensible.

I’ve decided to dedicate my Boston Marathon this April to Alexey’s Dream Foundation. alexeysdream.com and cafeindependence.webs.com

Would you please consider joining Sharon and me in assisting this man and his orphanage in Belarus with a financial contribution? I’ll run the 26.2. All you gotta do is visit cafeindependence.webs.com/forhelp.htm to donate via PayPal (see the yellow “Make a Donation” button on the right hand) or send a check payable to Robert Harris, CAE and indicate “for Cafe Independence” in memo line. Funds will promptly be wire to Belaus. Mail contribution to Alexey Talai c/o Robert Harris, 335 Beard Street, Tallahassee, FL 32303. Robert, Bob as he’s known, is a good friend of mine and has made it his personal mission to make Alexey’s Dream come true.

Again, please consider helping this brave and courageous man. You have my word that your contribution will be well spent. In doing so, for my own knowledge, please drop me a line and let me know you’ve chipped in (no need to disclose contribution).

With deep thanks,

Paul Martin

Following is a letter from Alex describing his circumstances:

Today I am at home with my sons. Outside sunny and frozen cold, water Freezes in a minutes! They play with the snow and have great fun. Vladik telling me if we can take some Juice and To put it outside to made fruit Ice. And I was starting to think, can we allow ourselves it because of the cost of juice? If their father have enough money to do that?

Please don’t worry for us. Anyway, I will survive. I just want you to know actual, real situation about me and around me.   I just want make sure you understand everything, all situations.

I do the best I can in very difficult situation.

I need driver; I need gas for the car, wherever I go I spend money for gas (1 gallon = $2,75) and small compensation for my friend driver or 100% for driver who is not my friend or Arthur for free if he is free - working for food.

The country is not rich and in very difficult economic situation. Very difficult earn extra money.

You helped me to visit USA to become great opportunity. It is Great opportunity! It was my decision to invest more my private time not for family but for social work, to help children in needs. I didn’t expect that the payment for this my decision will be so big – My Family, my Boys. I lost my family and should pay them indemnification for our apartment or buy house. It is my Responsibility as a father not as a husband.
I needed in more quantity of money than I expected one year ago for building and heating. Because of financial crisis the price have crazy jumped up for everything - Building materials, food and gas.

In this very difficult situation and very limited Financing from out, I have achieved some success.   I did some PR for Foundation and great USA people in nation media on TV and newspaper.   I start new website with 0% Readiness. Found webmaster and web designer who working almost for free.   25 January I have bought the house for my children and Maria for $10.000 because they don’t have a place to live.
I almost (98%) finished office building, building have heating, electricity and rebuild stone ladder.
And I try to fix all this problems alone, at the same time without help.

Now I do not have money for my living, even for food. Yesterday I paid €200 (EUR) for builder for the staircase. At Monday I need to pay him another $80 when the stairs will dry up and after he will tidied up there. I do not have this $80… I want you, another my US friends to know (I don’t know who necessary this to know(Your decision who is OK to know it)) about this very difficult situation in my life and how I struggle for it. If somebody can help some way it will be great. I have worked very hard to build the building where will be our foundation, I did PR in USA and Europe. I just need some more investment To continue successful development.
…

With Respect, Alexey Talai
Inspirational Speaker. Founder and Executive Director © Alexey’s Dream Foundation Help for Orphans Children and Children with disabilities 850 228 2222 USA phone
011 375 29 1255242 Belarus phone
www.alexeysdream.com

Good Eatin’

This speaking business continues to be feast or famine. As of late, I’ve been well fed. Last Thursday I spoke in Wichita, on Friday in Washington, DC and today, Monday, in Indianapolis. Duly, an expensive gift for my wife shall materialize. She wants solar panels for the house; she’ll get solar panels for the house…

Something tangibly notable always comes from time spent on stage. In Wichita it was the 16 year old boy who accompanied his mother. He was suspended from school for some minor infraction she withheld, and, hence, “Take Your Son to Work for Three Days” suddenly fell upon each of them. She was headed out of town to a conference and I suspect he was less than happy to receive the invitation.

The woman approached me afterward and said “he was meant to hear you today.” Which, in turn, confirms that I, too, was meant to be in Wichita that day…

In the nation’s capitol, I was honored to speak at Anytime Fitness’s annual conference. The event was held at the Omni Shoreham, the same place Julia Robert’s filmed The Pelican Brief, where Frank Sinatra serenaded Nancy Reagan and where numerous presidential inaugural balls have been held. I took the stage feeling on top of my game and the 800 attendees in the audience bounced the energy back at me and left me feeling oh-so-good about my job. It’s always a thrill to have folks from the crowd introduced themselves afterward and tell me their own stories of attitude over adversity.

Mr. Ego was happy when a couple of business owners approached looking to fill keynote slots at their respective upcoming conferences. “Consider yourself booked!” never gets old!

In Indianapolis a couple days later the highlight would have to be meeting Amir from Pakistan. He told me how he’d emigrated to the United States in his early twenties, unable to speak English, yet earned an engineering degree. After 30 years with General Motors he felt he needed a change a deeper purpose. He then went back to school for a degree in social work so that he might be able to help others who wish to make it in America. He’s having trouble making ends meet these days since, somewhat obviously, there’s little money to be made in his new profession. After telling me his story, he said I inspired him to “find a way to make my challenges work for me instead of against me, like you did.”

Whether you’re born on American soil, a naturalized citizen or an immigrant looking to make a difference, may the blessings follow wherever your heart leads you and may your famines be followed by feasts.

Not much to say

I haven’t posted in awhile because I haven’t been able to  think of anything interesting to write. Several weeks ago I gave up after after three paragraphs, bored with the words on the screen.

It’s not like I haven’t been doing much: In August I traveled to Copenhagen, for the second time this

summer, both on the behalf of Ossur, my prosthetics sponsor. This time it was just a little sprint triathlon on a Thursday night—400m swim, 18k bike, 4k run. To warm up I swam the course, reverse direction, and midway through I floated on my back a bit and thought about my good fortune to be getting paid to float on my back.

One hour and two minutes later the race was over and in that short time two “for the first time ever”s transpired. I always always always pass more people on the bike than pass me; not this time (rented road bike vs the other aero bikes probably played a role). I always always always get passed by more people on the run than I  pass; not this time. Can’t really explain this one. I ran 7:01 min miles, nothing crazy.

This little race was part of a bigger weekend of racing: there’s a fairly new Ironman-distance series call the “Challenge Family,” with races in Europe and a few other places. I was asked to address the 2200 athletes at Challenge Copenhagen over the PA system while they buzzed around the swim/bike transition at 6:45am, minutes before they started their 140.6-mile day—226 kilometers in their world.

I pretty sure not a single athlete paid attention. I was told the the media would be listening… Here’s what I had to say.

It’s gonna be a great day people, a great day indeed. There shall be pain and you shall like it!

You know, there was once a time you’d be considered god-like for completing the marathon. That wasn’t very long ago. Well, the ante has been raised, my friends. The head table once reserved for marathoners now requires an Ironman finish: 226 is the new 42!

In your pursuit of this head table you have logged many, many hours in training. You have sacrificed your free time, your vacations and your kids’ soccer games. This year all of your Monday mornings have been spent in the pool, your Saturdays on the bike and your Sundays on the run. All for the sake of today’s finish line.

There are more than 2200 of you competing today and something like 1000 of you are first-timers. Bravo to you, marching off into this world of relative unknown.

You first-timers are very brave men and women. You are young and you are old and you may or may not be experienced in the swim or the bike or the run but you have yet to put them all together for 12….or maybe 17…straight hours, and yet you are not afraid. You are ready!

Each of you has a different goal today. Some of you will be earnestly racing each other while most will be competing against yourselves, aiming for a certain time goal that you, or maybe your coach, have chosen. And, undoubtedly, there are a few of you who will be racing the 17-hour cut-off itself.  You are the bravest of all. I commend you.

Each of you has also had your own unique challenges in preparing for today, some of these challenges have been monumental!

Many of you have struggled just to find the time. That…is…by…far the biggest obstacle age-groupers face, finding those extra 20 hours in the week. Extra really doesn’t define those hours, does it? I mean, there’s really no such thing as extra time. It really does boil down to sacrificing something, or, more accurately, sacrificing lots of things. The sacrifices you must make present an enormous challenge. And, again, I commend you.

Many of you have battled through injuries during your preparation. The pain your backside feels on your long rides is nothing compared to the problems your knee or your back or your shoulder has been giving you. You’ve spent more time with your physiotherapist than your spouse!

And therein lies another major obstacle. Maintaining healthy relationships is a notoriously huge and very real challenge Ironman triathletes face. I ask you: what’s more important that your loved-ones? That’s right: nothing! And yet we chose, and they allow, time apart for you to complete this very important goal. I commend them, also.

Many of you have doubted yourselves and felt an on-going concern for not training as much as you feel you should have, for whatever multitude of reasons there are for not finding the time. That’s very typical and that’s nothing to feel guilty about; life gets in the way of training. That’s the way it is. And yet you’re here to race. That’s just awesome.

And all of you have subjected yourselves to these rigors because you crave the experience—whether it’s your first or your 21st Ironman—you crave the glory of the finish line and all the wonders it brings with it. The emotions, the pride and the message it sends to those around you. The limitless feelings of accomplishment that will overwhelm you are only achieved through this effort: you can’t buy them, you can’t borrow them, nor can you win them in the lottery. You must pay your dues to sit at this table. That is why we compete in extreme endurance events: because it is the only way to know our limits. It’s the only way to eliminate the self-doubt. It’s the only way to know who we really are.

Show me an Ironman triathlete and I’ll show you a person of integrity. Show me all those who dare complete this distance and I’ll show you the world’s finest individuals. They know no excuses. Their beauty lies in their willingness to push beyond the pain to find the beauty in the pain itself. This is where we discover ourselves and nothing in this world is more comforting that knowing our mental fortitude.

To those of you who reach the finish line today, it will be an honor to have you at our table. I am extremely proud of the Ironman badges that I wear and I’m confident that you will be also.

So, I wish you good luck today in your pursuit of this finish line…226 kilometers away.

And remember:

I har fortjent smerten I dag. Nyd den.
(EE har forCHENT SMERTin ee day. NOO den.)
[You have earned your pain today. Enjoy.]

Not sure how many understood my Danish either…

A couple weeks later I headed back to Oregon to run the Hood to Coast on behalf of The Hartford, that fabulous company that’s been so good not only to me, but also to every US Paralympian. A bit to write about here, I suppose.

Hood to Coast is a 197-mile, 12-person relay run. The team splits up into two “vans” of six; we were Van 2, I was the first leg of Van 2, which meant I was first to run after the Van 1 runners each completed their first legs. One-legged stud Jeff Glasbrenner handed me the baton.

I ran my 6 miles then got in a van with six other soon-to-be-smelly men. After our assignments we dispatched to a hotel room in downtown Portland where we all showered and then (despite telling myself I wouldn’t) ate way too much food at the fancy steak house they sent us to for dinner.

A few hours later I ran with a still-bloated belly at 11pm in pitch-darkness with a broken headlamp up and down steep hills that were lit up only by the support vehicles that would come by every 30 seconds or so. (Frankly, since I’m always focused on where my feet are striking—stiff ankle lends to hyperextension of the knee if I step on something funny—it was both liberating and exhilarating to run blindly downhill!). The downside of running sub-6s on a steep downhill is that the leg turnover is fast, the impact is violent, the prosthesis gets sloppy and I tore a large, deep blister into Stumpie, which rendered the remaining two miles a difficult charge. When I pulled over to the van to first view the damage, a teammate said he’d take over the rest of my run.  I said, “Shut the f**k up!” Then I said, “Sorry…just a bit amped up right now.”  He said, “I’d have said the same thing.”
(Well, maybe I do have a few things to say.)

Then back in the van for a little off-and-on shut eye while my vanmates ran their designated sections. Many hours later, as my last leg (that’s what the segments are called, not my fault) approached, I told the others there was a very slim chance I’d be able to run. Of course, everyone volunteered to share the duty. Yet, when my number was up, I felt I should at least give it a go.

It began with the hop-skip technique—hop on the good leg and swing the blistered one forward—it’s all about not bending the knee and reducing the impact as much as possible. Soon I was in a little groove, Stumpie stop complaining quite so much and I was able to run leg-over-leg, normal style, albeit very slowly. The uphill sections were easier and the downhill sections were tough, but, thankfully, it was a fairly flat leg. Those final four miles took 45 minutes. Like most things in life, the tough ones are the ones we’re proud of.

Oh yeah, one more thing. Sharon and I teamed up for an off-road duathlon in Tabernash, CO, a couple weekends back and took first in the relay division, beating the men’s teams!  Full disclosure: I think there were 5 teams…

Like I said earlier, I don’t have much to say so I’ll wrap it up with this: Last month I received a call from the US Paralymipcs. They were in need of filling a spot on the US Olympic Committee’s Athlete Advisory board. It was an honor to be asked and I’m now the AAC’s Paralympic Cycling representative, a volunteer position. My first meeting was this past weekend in Colorado Springs at the Olympic and Paralympic Assembly. (It was a thrill to spend time with athlete reps from every Olympic Sport. I shared the dinner table with speed walking, speed skating, team handball, figure skating, bowling and curling; what a diverse crew!)  I walked in on Friday knowing next to nothing and left on Saturday night with some direction, feeling not only incredibly blessed to represent my fellow athletes, but motivated to advocate on their behalf.

Perhaps not having anything to say is good… As always, thanks for taking the time.

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