|
PRINT
THIS PAGE | E-MAIL THIS PAGE
Thursday, November 26, 1998
Turkey trot gives disabled man new direction
By MARC STEIN The Dallas Morning News
DALLAS - Frank Salas won't win Thursday's Turkey Trot. He probably
won't even win his age group. But it will always be his race.
The race that changed the 29-year-old's life.
It's the race he entered on a dare two years ago, when his
best friend, Jerry Vidaurri, scoffed at Salas' interest in the
Trot. Tired of being told what he couldn't do and weary of watching
the world pass him by year after year, a hobbling Salas completed
the eight-mile course in a solid one hour, 18 minutes.
He hasn't stopped running since.
"I read about the Turkey Trot somewhere, and Jerry said,
'There's no way you can do it, Frank,' " Salas recalled.
"He said, 'That's for athletes, and you're not an athlete.'
"When I did finish, it was the greatest feeling. I felt
like I could do the Ironman competition."
Until that breakthrough in 1996, Salas was strictly a spectator
when it came to sports. Much as he wanted to participate, a serious
car accident at the age of 3 left the West Dallas resident partially
paralyzed on his right side. His parents emerged unscathed from
the wreck, but Salas lost all feeling in his right arm. And his
right leg is badly underdeveloped.
Growing up outside El Paso, and walking with a severe limp,
Salas gave up athletics as a teen-ager when he kept getting cut
from teams at Canutillo High School. He tried football. Basketball,
too. He even gave track and field a shot, but didn't last long
as a shot putter.
Almost a decade went by before Salas finally found his niche.
Then 27, with Thanksgiving approaching, he was having his usual
Friday night dinner with Vidaurri when they began to argue about
the Turkey Trot.
Salas insisted he was going to get through it, even if he had
to crawl across the finish line. Vidaurri kept goading him, working
Salas into a frenzy.
"I knew all along he could do it, but I knew if I kept
telling him he couldn't that he'd prove me wrong pretty quickly,"
Vidaurri said. "I've been friends with him so long, I knew
I could push his buttons pretty easily.
"One time we were moving a couch, and my brother tried
to take an end away from him. And Salas said real sarcastically,
'That's right, poor Frank can't do anything.' He doesn't want
people to view him as anything other than normal."
That's no longer a problem. Salas has become widely regarded
as a strong area runner, having completed 10 full marathons and
winning a handful of age-group titles in shorter races.
Although he's forced to wear a specially made orthotic in his
right shoe to give him some lift and cushion, and although he
can barely push off his right leg and sees it as "basically
just a crutch," Salas runs 35-40 miles every week. He also
enters a competitive race almost every weekend and recently completed
the San Antonio Marathon in 4:14 - prompting a family Salas had
never met to hang around just for the chance to shake his hand.
"It's kind of weird to see the way people react to him,
but it happens all the time," Vidaurri said. "It's amazing
how many people come up to him and say, 'You're a great inspiration.'
"
It happens in the workplace, as well. Salas is a security supervisor
at the downtown Fountain Place building, directing a staff of
15 security officers after starting at the bottom rung in 1991.
"Physical appearance is everything in this business, but
with Frank you look past any physical anomalies," said Gary
Mathews, the director of security at Fountain Place. "Our
need for good people outweighed anything that was visible.
"Frank started out driving an elevator, at the lowest
level of entry that we had. He's basically second in command in
the building now. He's my right-hand guy."
For a guy who has admittedly "never known what it feels
like to use my right hand," that might be the ultimate compliment.
"It's kind of weird to explain, but I don't see myself
as disabled," Salas said. "Other people might, but it
seems normal to me not to use my right arm and struggle with my
walking. I think I'm lucky that it happened early in life. I got
accustomed to it quickly.
"After that first Turkey Trot, I just fell in love with
running. My life did a 180. That's why I'll always run this race.
It's my favorite. It'll always be something special."
---
Distributed by The Associated Press
Send a Letter to the Editor about This
Story | Start or Join A Discussion about This Story
Send the URL (Address)
of This Story to A Friend:
|
