Hey, I just thought I would post my story because it is similar to yours:
"I should be a dead man. I shouldn’t be sitting here, writing this. I definitely shouldn’t be contemplating my next Ironman. However, being an endurance athlete has saved my life...twice. I am a product of my desire to train and compete, awareness of my body, and life-saving technology that is available to everyone. I am hopeful that my story might motivate someone to make the small efforts that could save his or her life.
My story actually starts in 1998. On New Years Day, I made a resolution to lose weight and run a marathon. I started running. Slowly, I became faster. I lost 60 pounds over the next nine months. In February of 1999, I completed the Las Vegas Marathon in 3:52. I became immediately addicted to the feeling of crossing that finish line. Over the next few years, I completed ten marathons. I was officially a ‘runner.’ It was my identity.
In 2002, I watched a friend compete in a sprint-distance triathlon. It looked so cool! I signed up for triathlon that next month. I drove up to Idaho with my mountain bike on the back of my truck and completed my first olympic-distance triathlon. Again, I became immediately addicted as I crossed the finish line. Shortly after, I signed up for my first Ironman-distance race.
Over the next three years, I completed three Ironman-distance races, including Ironman Coeur d’Alene in 2004 and 2005. 2005 was my PR at 11:57. I loved that distance and the opportunity to push my body past its limits. The week after my 2005 race, I signed up for the 2006 Coeur d’Alene Ironman. Having a race in my future kept me motivated.
The week before the race, I went to the doctor to help me solve a chafing problem. My intention was to get some type of lotion that would fix the issue before my race. Luckily, it’s standard procedure to measure your blood pressure anytime you go to the doctor. Normally my blood pressure is about 120/80. However, this time it was 130/50. Neither the doctor nor the nurse made any mention to me of there being any cause for concern. Although I was bothered by the difference, I continued to assure myself that if it was cause for concern then surely the doctor or nurse would make mention of it. I was still feeling uneasy as I was leaving the doctor’s office, so I went back and asked why my blood pressure could be so different. The doctor said it was probably just an error in the reading, but he took the time to measure it again. He then listened to my chest and identified a heart murmur. He said that I definitely needed to get it checked before my Ironman race that weekend. Two days later, an echocardiogram revealed that my aorta was enlarged to 8.4 cm, an aortic aneurysm, well past the point of rupturing.
I was a ticking time bomb! When your aorta breaks, you die in minutes. The enlarged aorta had distorted my aortic valve so that it wasn’t closing properly. Strangely, I didn’t show any symptoms. It was truly hidden, silent and waiting to kill me. It was very tough to drop out of my race and throw away the last year of intense training. My surgeon insisted; telling me that if I tried to complete that race it was likely that my aorta would rupture and I would die. It was unbelievable to think that had I not known my “normal” blood pressure and had I not gone back to the office to ask the doctor about the discrepancy...then Coeur d’Alene would have most likely been my final race.
I had open-heart surgery on June 27th 2006 - the day before my 35th birthday. They replaced my aorta with a Dacron tube. My valve was replaced with a carbon fiber mechanical valve. I smiled as they told me that it was carbon fiber like so many of my bike components - so cool!
I assumed that my triathlete days were over. It was very hard to accept. It had been my identity. To my amazement, my surgeon told me that I would be able to compete in triathlons! He said that I could still work my heart aerobically. He imagined that I might even be stronger than before, since my valve was now working properly. I can’t communicate how good it felt to realize that I was still a triathlete.
Reality hit me during my first post-recovery run. It was like starting over. I had expected that, with my ‘super-charged heart,’ I would easily regain my fitness. I was wrong. However, all was well with my heart and I was determined to race again. I signed up for an olympic-distance race the following summer. I trained consistently and set a PR. I considered signing up for an Ironman but decided that, for now, I would be satisfied with shorter races.
From that point on, I always wore a heart rate monitor during exercise. I also started measuring and recording my blood pressure almost daily. It gave me peace of mind to be aware of my heart’s vital signs. I didn’t want to be surprised by another silent killer. My wife was very supportive and concerned. For example, when I expressed frustration with my heart rate monitor receiving a signal during my entire workout, she found a conductive product that ensured an immediate, consistent reading. We both were vigilant in monitoring my heart.
Over the next two years, we noticed that my maximum heart rate was steadily decreasing. Also, I was becoming slower and slower. I was becoming discouraged with my speed and this was effecting my motivation to train. During the next several months, I was missing more and more workouts. I didn’t feel healthy and I gained weight. We met with my cardiologist. As we explained the changes in my heart rate, she suggested a decrease in the amount of blood-pressure medication I was taking daily. Immediately, my maximum heart rate increased and so did my speed.
Soon after, I signed up for another Ironman-distance race to be held in August of 2009. With an Ironman race as a goal, I regained my motivation to train and began a strict training regimen. I was feeling strong during my workouts. My heart-rate was more normal. However, after a few weeks, I noticed that my heart-rate wasn’t falling as expected during my cool-down. I was also a little light-headed and dizzy during the day.
We met with my cardiologist several times to discuss what may be the cause, only to leave without answers and feeling frustrated. Finally, the doctor suggested doing my annual stress echo early. This test revealed a possible problem with one of the chambers of my heart. The doctor then ordered a nuclear stress test and, later, an angiogram. The angiogram revealed that my right coronary artery was 70% blocked with scar tissue from the previous surgery. This was not something that was expected nor common. Again, my surgeon explained that I needed another open-heart surgery to fix the problem. If he didn’t act quickly, a heart attack was imminent. The surgery was scheduled for the following week.
As I was recovering in the hospital, my surgeon came to check up on me. I sarcastically asked if I was still able to do the Ironman this summer. To my surprise, he said that there was no reason I couldn’t complete an Ironman. He said that my problem was fixed and I should be better than ever. In fact, he encouraged me to compete, suggesting that I now had a fully-functional heart and my performance should be much improved.
That was one week ago, on March 30th, 2009. I have decided that I will begin again to train for an Ironman. I hope that my story will motivate others to become more aware of their heart-health. As athletes who push our bodies past the limit, we must not assume that everything is fine. We must be vigilant and become aware of our heart and avoid the many silent killers that are patiently waiting for many of us. We need to listen to what our bodies are saying and take responsibility for our health. It is important to ask questions and be persistent in finding the answers."
