My friend Carvin

This month many young kids will sit in front of their television sets anxiously waiting to see the results of the different athletic events at the Winter Olympics in Torino, Italy. A student came into my middle school math classroom recently and said that he couldn't wait to see Shaun White perform in the half pipe competition. Another student remarked that his hero, Jerome Bettis, just received a Super Bowl ring. Another (perhaps more thoughtful) person noted that not all heroes have to be sports figures and that Coretta Scott King was a hero of the Civil Right's Movement. As I looked at my yellow LIVESTRONG bracelet, I wondered, who is my hero?

Actually I didn't have to think too hard about that question. After so many years of seeing and briefly admiring sports figures, peace activists and others, I have finally found a hero who reaches to the depth of my soul. My hero is someone who I can not only look up to for inspiration, but also someone whom I can actually see and know. He's not some mythical figure that I put on a pedestal only to be brought down by human foibles, and he's not some superhero who prevails over all he encounters.

No, my hero is an everyday guy.

I first saw Carvin Kramer at a cross-country meet when he and my oldest son were in seventh grade. I came to watch my son compete, but the awkward gate of the last place runner struck me. He came striding past me with a noticeable lean to his right that made it clear that not all was right in the neuromuscular movement of this kid. Whereas the mechanics of his fellow runners were fluid, Carvin's were labored. The most remarkable difference however, was the steely look of competition on the faces of those other runners compared to the gentle smile on Carvin's. He was just happy to be running!

For the next several years, through middle and high school, I continued to watch Carvin run cross-country and track. Rain or shine, there were times that I would see him riding his bicycle to school as I past him on my way to work. At some point during this time, I learned that his neuromuscular difficulties were the result of his being involved in a bike/car accident when he was much younger. I had always admired Carvin for his perseverance, and after learning of what he has had to overcome, my respect grew even deeper.

Although I saw Carvin a lot at these athletic meets, our relationship was much the same as with the other athletes. We would talk about running, the weather and the rest of the mundane things that people chat about. I would ask him how it was going, and he always had the same reply, "Great!" He never had a bad thing to say about anyone and seemed happy.

This year, Carvin asked me to be his senior project mentor. He wanted to organize and direct a local running race. I had mentored another runner with a race, and I knew that Carvin was interested, so I was anticipating his request. When he finally did ask, I was more than happy to do so, and we decided on a plan to meet at the high school on Tuesdays to discuss what we needed to do to promote and run a successful race.

Carvin was a champ. He took good notes, asked great questions and paid close attention to detail. I was impressed with his enthusiasm. It was during those meetings that my perspective on planning a race started to change. I began to look at things more from his perspective than mine. What I thought of as insignificant was an important detail to him (and sure enough, they were important details).

Serving as Carvin's senior project mentor has been a remarkable experience. He has taught me many things about the here and now and given me new insight and perspective. We want our heroes to be super heroes that can run through burning buildings or do a 1080 with a Tailgrab. But why can't our heroes be just every day people who get up and just do life. Why do we forget about them? Our parents, our kids, our teachers—these are people who are heroic simply because they just do life!

So, after 50-plus years, I have found my hero. His name is Carvin Kramer. Last week was the culmination of his senior project. We successfully completed the promotion and management of a mammoth running race. Thirty-two teams and many more supporters came out on a sunny Saturday to be part of Carvin's project. It was awesome.

Afterwards Carvin and his parents offered thanks to me for my role as a mentor. I didn't see to telling him this then, upon reflection I can only say, "No Carvin, thank you! From this day forward you are my inspiration to get up each day and do life."

And as I think about his usual countenance, I realize that having a smile while doing life might also be required.