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Finally admitting he had a serious problem that needed to be dealt with, Bob Rarrick, founding member of The Flying Cascadilla Brothers, recently entered a rehabilitation clinic for the chronic abuse of his left hamstring.
Bob was unavailable for comment but one Flying Cascadilla Brother, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, said that this had been a long-time problem.
"This had been going on for a long time--about two years," this reporter was told. "Finally we got a bunch of his friends together and had an intervention. We invited him over to my apartment under the pretext that we were getting together to watch the 1995 Ironman Triathlon, the one with that really cute 18-year-old Hawaiian girl. We knew that would get him there. But when he showed up we sat him down and surrounded him and told him that we all really cared about him and this kind of behavior could not go on any longer. At first he denied everything--said he didn't know what we were talking about and
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claimed he was perfectly healthy. So then we asked him why, when he went out biking, he was only peddling with one leg. You could see him getting really nervous--he didn't know what to say. Then he admitted that, okay, he did have a strain in his left hamstring but he had it under control and it would heal in a day or two. When we told him we knew he was lying and this was way out of control he broke down and cried and said, that yes, the leg hurt like hell and he had lived for the past year with an ice bag stuffed down his pants. We had already made a reservation at a rehab clinic, so we took him right away. Thank goodness he has insurance because we sure weren't going to pay for this."
Although Bob's publicist refused to state which clinic he had checked into, this reporter has learned that it is Southern Tier Physical Therapy Associates in Vestal, NY, which specializes in treating hard-to-deal-with athletic injuries.
Rehabilitation of this type can be very brutal and rigorous. Those familiar with this facility tell us that Bob's typical day
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will involve having his leg covered with heat packs, hours of ultrasound, stretches designed by the Marquee de Saude, and having an attractive a 24-year-old woman named Renee message his inner thigh for at least 20 minutes.
As long as he truly wants to be healed, Bob should be cleared for light jogging in two months. From there he will have to take one day at a time and follow a 12-step program to further strengthen the muscle. Life is never easy for a recovering hamstring abuser, but with luck he should be ready to face Dwight Galbi in the Triathlon Challenge Triad in the summer of 1998.
Those who wish to send cards and letters of encouragement to Bob can put them in a bottle and toss them in the ocean
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ways where cars are traveling 60 MPH. (Almost as fast as we are.) And not all these drivers follow the rules we learned in our Driver Education Class.
That is why I am going to pass on this safety tip: When you are out riding, and are coming up to a car that had stopped and is waiting to pull out of a side street, driveway or parking lot,
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the wisest thing to do is to yell, "Don't hit me!" at the top of your lungs as you approach the car. This will alert the the driver to your presence and shame him into staying where he is so you can pass without danger. Of course, he will think you are a lunatic, but at least you'll be a living lunatic.
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