back on trackby Herb TolbertA Runner's Return From Heart Surgery to Heartbreak Hill As I rounded the corner onto Boylston Street the noise from the crowd seem to roll over me like a tidal wave. The finish was in sight and I started to relax, knowing that I was about to complete not only the marathon, but also a journey that started a year ago. I allowed myself to enjoy the moment, taking in every sight and sound. As I neared the finish, I searched desperately among the crowd for the one face that had taken every step of this journey with me. Finally I saw the face of my wife, tears rolling down her cheeks, and that smile that had brightened up so many dark days of the previous year. As I covered the final steps to the finish line my heartbeat was strong and steady. I was comforted by its rhythmic pounding. Then the reality set in. Although I have had this dream each and every day since I left the hospital a year ago, it has yet to come true. In February 2000 while training for my 14th Boston Marathon, I ran a half marathon in Williamsburg, Virginia. Several weeks prior to this race, I had started to have some difficulty breathing whenever I did any interval or tempo runs. However, being a lifelong runner with a health-conscious lifestyle, I saw no need to be overly concerned. Sure, I wasn't running as fast as I had been two years ago when I won the 50-54 age group in all 15 races I ran, but who was? I attributed it to "getting old." About 6 miles into the race I felt the breathing difficulties return. As I worked to maintain a pace that should have been easy, I thought to myself, "I'll get this checked out when I get a chance." Making the final turn and heading up a slight hill, I felt a tightness in my chest, along with the breathing difficulties, and for the first time I got scared. This was not the type of shortness of breath I had experienced so many times before as I made the final dash to pass another runner or to set an elusive PR. I shared with my wife what I had experienced and she agreed that it was time to see what the problem was. Blinded by my lifestyle, neither one of us imagined this was a heart-related problem. Ten years ago I had taken an exercise stress test and had done very well. There was no indication of heart disease. I guess the important lesson to be learned here is that periodic checks are the best thing we can do for ourselves. After other tests proved negative, a treadmill test was scheduled. Needless to say I was a little nervous about the outcome. As the speed of the treadmill increased and the elevation was raised, I went from an easy walk to a slow jog. With each completed phase I became confident that my heart was fine and things would be okay. Then it happened. The nurse practitioner asked me how I was doing and if I felt anything unusual. I was to find out later that she had noticed changes in my EKG. She allowed me to continue but now showed more concern about how I was feeling than she had earlier. After one more level the nurse again asked me how I was feeling. The tightness that I had experienced during the half marathon had returned. The nurse immediately lowered the treadmill and stopped the test. The next words she spoke hit me harder than
the 20th mile of a bad marathon. "You just had a positive
stress test." At this point I looked around the room to see
whom she was talking to, knowing full well that we were the only
ones there. How could this be? I had always lived a healthy lifestyle.
I had controlled all the modifiable risk factors for most of my
life. I've been a competitive runner since high school. I've never
smoked. I keep my diet low in fat, cholesterol and sodium. More
than 20 years ago I eliminated caffeine and alcohol from my diet.
My blood pressure was normal and my resting heart rate was about
46. That left one thing, genetics: About 7 years ago my mom had
cardiac bypass surgery. The surgery went very well and within 24
hours I was up "walking." The survival shuffle at the
end of a very grueling marathon would be a sprint compared to
my first post-surgery walk. Cardiac rehabilitation started about
six weeks after surgery. Walking at 3 miles per hour on a treadmill
and riding the exercise bike for 20 minutes at a very low intensity
was a long way from running 26.2 miles. Before long I was allowed
to jog at 13-minute mile pace. Despite this progress, at times
I was very discouraged and thought I would never get back to running.
Then I would look around the room at those who were just starting
their rehab and realize how far I had come. Having been in excellent
condition prior to surgery surely aided in my recovery and shortened
my rehab time. As my training progressed and I was able to complete 18-mile runs with ease, I gained confidence that my dream of running the 2001 Boston Marathon would come true. It was not to be. An Achilles tendon injury in the weeks prior to the race sidelined me and shattered any hope I had of fulfilling my dream-this year. In spite of this, I know that if I continue to train with all my heart, one day my dream of again running Heartbreak Hill will be realized. *Heartbreak Hill is mile 20-21 of the Boston Marathon-a focal point for the race spectators who are eager to witness runners struggling to conquer the most challenging part of the course. The "Hill" was named by late Boston Globe sportswriter Jerry Nason who coined the term "Heartbreak Hill" after writing a story in 1936 describing defending champion Johnny Kelley's bitter defeat by Ellison Brown. ___________________
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