Running with Kevin

Kevin loved to run fast; racing invisible opponents in his wheelchair. We did this often, over the years--across the playground. Kevin would say: “Run, Mr. Allen. Go faster! Faster, Mr. Allen!” (me deliberately going slow (initially). . . So Kevin would ask or say (or beg) “Go faster . . . Go faster! Then in the end, when I was breathing hard (no faking or make believe on my part—I was exhausted), Kevin would say (panting) “Whew!  . . . . . I’m tired.” In his mind and heart, he was running. I never checked his pulse, but his face would be flushed and he would be breathing (on his ventilator) as if he had just sprinted across the entire open playground—which technically, he had.