As an athlete, I feel that I am on a journey to find ways to get better and more efficient in my training and my racing. A clean eating and structured exercise regimen have afforded me a life where I am faster and leaner since turning 50 than I thought possible. I feel that the mandate to “live long as prosper” from Mr. Spock of Star Trek fame has come true for me. The onus is on me to maintain and pass along what I learn along this path.
I get and keep confidence to continue progressing by reviewing the positive aspects that science and experience teaches: lean endurance athletes are at a reduced risk of heart disease, cancer, diabetes, obesity, etc. Yet, like a normal person, I know that there are some documented risks and side effects and consequences with my regimen. Until this weekend, those risks got nearly none of my attention.
This weekend was the National Championships in Duathlon, in Greenville, SC. I will soon forget the competition, but I won’t forget my friend Ed’s heart attack on race day.
One of my sons watching the race noticed Ed holding his chest on run 1 on Saturday morning. When I passed Ed on run 2, he looked like he was in bad shape, as his eyes were rolling in his head. After the race was over and I was talking with friends and family during recovering, my cell phone rang. Megan from medical at USA Triathlon told me that after Ed crossed the finish line, he had been taken by ambulance to the hospital and he had told her to contact me as his emergency contact. I met up with Megan, gathered his stuff, and created a plan to go to the hospital to see him. I spoke with his wife on the phone, assuring her that he was in good hands. She was in TX, and we were in SC, so she started making plans to get to here as soon as she could.
When I reached the hospital, Ed looked like a Christmas tree, with tubes, screens and lights surrounding him. Ed had a heart attack during the race but pushed through to the finish line, as he really wanted to wear the TeamUSA logo and compete internationally next year. Indeed, within a few minutes of arriving, he asked if I knew his time and I he made the cut. The doctors put a stint in his heart to release the blockage via an artery in his groin immediately upon arrival in the hospital, and the darn thing wasn’t even a few hours old when I walked in. Didn’t matter to him. “Was I fast enough to make it?” was all that he wanted to share.
“Ed, you just hard a heart attack! Let’s see you on the path to recovery, first!” was what came out of my mouth. What I wanted to say was something like, “are you flipping serious? Like, serious as a heart attack? You could have died, Dude!” In this one rare instance, going way out of character, I chose not to speak what was on my mind.
As an endurance athlete, I “know” just like everyone else “knows” that there is some peer reviewed research and anecdotal evidence out there that conclude excessive endurance exercise can be bad. In one peer reviewed paper, the effects of long term endurance exercise cause a, “pathologic structural remodeling of the heart and large arteries.” Indeed, the story of the first marathon ends with the original runner, Pheidippides, dying upon completion of the event. The author of the book, “The Complete Book of Running,” died of a heart attack while running at age 52, and a 55-year-old mountain biker died 1 mile from the finish line of a race that he had already completed 18 times. Until this weekend, I glazed over those events, dwelling on it long enough only to say, “not me.” Ed was the same way.
I met Ed racing at Powerman Zofingen years ago. Ed is short and stocky, but he has a motor that never stops. He was always quick to say, “go USA,” when we passed each other during the race, and he is known by many for saying encouraging words to those whom he competes with, regardless of their citizenship. He is a consummate sportsman. He is one of those guys whom I nearly always beat but feel no shame in losing to. Ed and his wife support my school building efforts via The Nepal Project, and they are “givers” down to their cores. I was fearful that he was about to give his life.
I had a lot of reasons to complain about my National Championship. Since February, I have been fighting a strain in my quads that has made it difficult to push at either the intensity or the duration I needed to reach to be competitive. During the first race, I lost one of my cycling shoes in transition, and it took assistance from two of the refs before I found it. My chain came off as soon as I finally got on my bike, and my rear brake rubbed throughout. Yet, compared to Ed, I had an uneventful race.
God uses catastrophic events like this to get our attention. When I arrived in the hospital room Ed quickly became teary eyed, as I was the first person from his previous life to see and talk to him since his life changing event. I tried to joke with him, telling him that this was most certainly a consequence of voting for Trump. His chuckle and subsequent cough brought a smile to both of our faces. The world will only see the bad and perceive that events like heart attacks are random acts we can’t yet fully predict, like Earthquakes and girls and guys who break up with each other over text message.
We know that mortality catches all of us and it is highly unlikely that anyone racing this weekend will be remembered for their athletic prowess 50 years from now. Yet, it is the power of our relationships that evoke change. I held Ed’s hand and told him that good would come of this, I sensed a connection that would outlast this moment, in this place, surrounded by the power of science that often isolates us from our Creator.
The next day, I decided not to compete. I told everyone that I had an achy knee (true) and that I can’t stand riding at 20+ mph in the cold (also true). The missing part of my story was the impact that spending time Ed had on my psyche. I did not fear a heart attack. It was my lack of drive to compete that kept me on the sidelines. Instead, I stood on the run section of the course with my sons, cheering on my friends and encouraging them…for Ed. That is what he would have done, had he been allowed to leave the hospital. I watched Marcus, Rob, Randy, Mike L, Kristen and bunch of folks whom I normally compete against give it their best when their best mattered. Yes, it was cold and I wished I was racing, but I knew I did the right thing.
When we got back home Sunday afternoon, we unpacked our gear and put everything away. I repaired a piece of power equipment and raked our long gravel driveway, to get the pot holes out of it, and reviewed the final numbers on this year’s tax return. After dinner, I sat on the couch and watched TV, when I got a long text from Ed. He was beside himself with joy. His son who had had been estranged from him for years gave him a call. He son felt something on his heart, and he decided to call his dad and talk. The two of them spoke on the phone, and Ed was overjoyed to tears. Oddly enough, on Day 2, Ed was already grateful for his heart attack.
It is with both joy and satisfaction that I am passing on my TeamUSA status for 2019 and letting my slot on the team hopefully roll down to Ed. For any of you ahead of Ed in the 50 to 54-year-old age category who considering passing on competing in Spain next year, the one who will be getting your slot will make you proud. He will make us all proud.
Ed shared last night that his heart scans showed no damage to the heart muscle. Ed’s wife called me. She said he wanted to go out for a run.
When I was creating my training schedule months ago, I had put in a week off as a transition cycle before I begin building for Worlds in Denmark this July. Before this weekend, I hesitated thinking if that was a good idea or not. No doubt, I will take this week off from running and cycling and be grateful that I am doing so by choice and not by mandate.
Cheers to Ed and all the good that comes from a heart attack.