SumoRunner
Well-known member
Since there seem to be quite a few newbies here, maybe you'd like to hear from an old timer. I'm 17 years out from VR now.
Here's an article I wrote for the local road runners club two years ago to celebrate my 15 yr anniversary. In another 15 years, you'll all look back at this angst you have now and laugh. I guarantee it.
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This July is a significant benchmark for me because it marks 15 years since I received an artificial heart valve. It was a fairly rare thing back then to find someone still running after open heart surgery, but quite common now. Perhaps the medical profession learned something from those of use who were tenacious enough to continue. What is most important to me though is that it means I have now spent more of my running life and soon to be more than half of my almost 30,000 lifetime running miles with it than without.
I mark the beginning of my running career on a dark, damp and dreary 5:30 AM in March of 1978. I can remember it very well. I remember where and when and how it went. Not very well, unfortunately. I couldn't make a quarter mile that first day before I had to slow to a walk. It was the days, weeks, months, years and decades that followed it that made that one unspectacular run stand out in memory. That was because I never stopped again.
Oh, it's not that I have a long streak of consecutive days running. There are several folks in the HMRRC that are into that and would put me to shame even if I did. No, I don't care for streaks and yes, I've paused running many times for weeks at a time for various reasons of illness or injury. One rather obvious break being the weeks following that open heart surgery. What I mean by not stopping is that I continued to "be" a runner from that day onward whether I was able to run every day or only once in a month. The mindset was, I am a runner and even if I can't get out on the roads today I will be there the next chance I get.
I first tried to get started in 1963 going out for the high school cross country team. I ran practices with them for about one week after which the team physicals were done. Boy, you sure couldn't do that today, now you need the physical first, OK to run second, but that's the way it was done 40+ years ago. The doctor told me I had a heart murmur that precluded competitive sports. Bummer. On the plus side, it precluded service in the Army which made me miss out an many special events that happened a few years later in Viet Nam.
I can also recall running in 1972. I had recently graduated from HVCC in Troy and had a few weeks off before starting a new job at GE, so I would meet a couple pals from school at Prospect Park for a little tennis. Before a set I would run around the perimeter road of the park. That was about a mile I think. But I wasn't really a runner then. I was just warming up for something else.
Then there was one of those "where were you when" days, August 9, 1974, the day President Richard Nixon resigned. Well, where I was, was out running. My wife and I were in Cape Cod with another couple. My friend Mike Burke was into marathoning at that time, so he was doing 8 or more miles every day. I would tag along but couldn't handle more than about 3, so I'd do the first 1.5 with him and turn back. When I came in the door that's when I heard the news that Nixon would go on TV that night and resign. Moments like that really stick in your mind. But I wasn't a runner then either. I didn't keep it up more than a few months a year. Fair weather jogger would be more like it.
There were several years between 72 and 78 when I was an on-again, off-again runner, each time having to start over from scratch. But for some reason after March of 1978 I never considered stopping again. Not until, that is, the day I was told "Stop running now. It could kill you". That was when the old heart murmur that first evidenced itself in high school finally reached it's worst potential. Not that it was a surprise, my doctors had been monitoring it for a long time and I had even suffered a minor stroke because of it in 1987. That's a long story about which I wrote extensively and mournfully in the Pace Setter back in the day. Suffice it to say it was so minor I was doing laps at the Union College field house the following week and running PR times within months and for a couple years thereafter.
Then in 1990 it almost all came crashing in. The heart murmur (valve leakage) was getting progressively worse as had been predicted but not in any truly noticeable way. I had been running well for a long time and had felt no symptoms of degradation. Preparation for the fall Stockade-athon 15K went normally and according to recent training and racing times, should have gone quite well. I cruised through 4 miles in a bit over 28 minutes and 5 miles in 35-something and was feeling great. Of course, that's with all the downhills behind you. After 5 miles there are some serious uphills to negotiate. But still, having run the Stockade about 10 times by then, I knew what to expect. Under 7:10 per mile at the halfway point should bring me home in about 67 minutes.
Mile 6 was a bust. Yes, I know, it always is. The State St hill will bring anyone to their limit. But this was even worse. That one mile took me almost 9 minutes. I couldn't believe, after having done so well up until then, why I would suddenly slow down that much. Miles 7 through 9 weren't much better. I did finish with a decent time, 71:30, but that was several minutes off of what I expected and was trained for. And, boy was I beat!
At first I was puzzled. You know, even with 30 years of forewarning, there's still a large element of denial when you have to face the truth. What made me know it was truly serious was that three or four weeks after the race, I was still not fully recovered. Recovery from a 15K race always did take more than a week. I would expect to be more tired than usual on longer runs for up to 9 or 10 days out, but not 20 or 30 days later. By then I had an appointment with my cardiologist and it didn't take too many tests for him to arrive at the conclusion that running was now contra-indicated as they say.
So, stop was the order of the day. But I never stopped "being" a runner. I walked every day, vigorously too. Walked with a vengeance and with a solid determination that as soon as I was able, I'd be back running. I kept going to HMRRC events doing 3 winter series races at a fast walk. I walked one 5K in 34:30 which ain't shabby. I can hardly beat that running these days.
It was on July 26, 1991 that I had the aortic valve replaced by an artificial ticker. Oh yeah, don't tell anyone but I snuck in one "last" mile the day before my surgery, just in case it was to be my last and I wrote it dutifully in my log book as such.
Obviously all went well. It did take several weeks before I could try to run again. The first time out I think I got 80 yards before gasping for breath and having to walk. A week later, a quarter mile. Three weeks later a whole mile. Six months later 10 miles on a nice sunny Saturday morning felt good. But the whole sequence from full-stop to "I ran a mile today" was less than a year, mere months. Out of 15 years it's hardly noticeable and it's certainly not a reason to say I stopped being a runner. I just paused my training for a bit is all. A year later you'd never have known I even skipped a beat and now 15 years and 15,000 more miles later, who cares.
It's been a good trip all in all with a few bumps along the route but the enjoyment has been in the traveling because there is no destination, only an endless road stretching out over the horizon. I can't see all the way to the end, I thought I did once, but when I reached the top of that hill there was still a lot more road up ahead. I think from what I see now that maybe I've got at least another 15 to go. I'll have to get back to you on that.
Here's an article I wrote for the local road runners club two years ago to celebrate my 15 yr anniversary. In another 15 years, you'll all look back at this angst you have now and laugh. I guarantee it.
------------------------
This July is a significant benchmark for me because it marks 15 years since I received an artificial heart valve. It was a fairly rare thing back then to find someone still running after open heart surgery, but quite common now. Perhaps the medical profession learned something from those of use who were tenacious enough to continue. What is most important to me though is that it means I have now spent more of my running life and soon to be more than half of my almost 30,000 lifetime running miles with it than without.
I mark the beginning of my running career on a dark, damp and dreary 5:30 AM in March of 1978. I can remember it very well. I remember where and when and how it went. Not very well, unfortunately. I couldn't make a quarter mile that first day before I had to slow to a walk. It was the days, weeks, months, years and decades that followed it that made that one unspectacular run stand out in memory. That was because I never stopped again.
Oh, it's not that I have a long streak of consecutive days running. There are several folks in the HMRRC that are into that and would put me to shame even if I did. No, I don't care for streaks and yes, I've paused running many times for weeks at a time for various reasons of illness or injury. One rather obvious break being the weeks following that open heart surgery. What I mean by not stopping is that I continued to "be" a runner from that day onward whether I was able to run every day or only once in a month. The mindset was, I am a runner and even if I can't get out on the roads today I will be there the next chance I get.
I first tried to get started in 1963 going out for the high school cross country team. I ran practices with them for about one week after which the team physicals were done. Boy, you sure couldn't do that today, now you need the physical first, OK to run second, but that's the way it was done 40+ years ago. The doctor told me I had a heart murmur that precluded competitive sports. Bummer. On the plus side, it precluded service in the Army which made me miss out an many special events that happened a few years later in Viet Nam.
I can also recall running in 1972. I had recently graduated from HVCC in Troy and had a few weeks off before starting a new job at GE, so I would meet a couple pals from school at Prospect Park for a little tennis. Before a set I would run around the perimeter road of the park. That was about a mile I think. But I wasn't really a runner then. I was just warming up for something else.
Then there was one of those "where were you when" days, August 9, 1974, the day President Richard Nixon resigned. Well, where I was, was out running. My wife and I were in Cape Cod with another couple. My friend Mike Burke was into marathoning at that time, so he was doing 8 or more miles every day. I would tag along but couldn't handle more than about 3, so I'd do the first 1.5 with him and turn back. When I came in the door that's when I heard the news that Nixon would go on TV that night and resign. Moments like that really stick in your mind. But I wasn't a runner then either. I didn't keep it up more than a few months a year. Fair weather jogger would be more like it.
There were several years between 72 and 78 when I was an on-again, off-again runner, each time having to start over from scratch. But for some reason after March of 1978 I never considered stopping again. Not until, that is, the day I was told "Stop running now. It could kill you". That was when the old heart murmur that first evidenced itself in high school finally reached it's worst potential. Not that it was a surprise, my doctors had been monitoring it for a long time and I had even suffered a minor stroke because of it in 1987. That's a long story about which I wrote extensively and mournfully in the Pace Setter back in the day. Suffice it to say it was so minor I was doing laps at the Union College field house the following week and running PR times within months and for a couple years thereafter.
Then in 1990 it almost all came crashing in. The heart murmur (valve leakage) was getting progressively worse as had been predicted but not in any truly noticeable way. I had been running well for a long time and had felt no symptoms of degradation. Preparation for the fall Stockade-athon 15K went normally and according to recent training and racing times, should have gone quite well. I cruised through 4 miles in a bit over 28 minutes and 5 miles in 35-something and was feeling great. Of course, that's with all the downhills behind you. After 5 miles there are some serious uphills to negotiate. But still, having run the Stockade about 10 times by then, I knew what to expect. Under 7:10 per mile at the halfway point should bring me home in about 67 minutes.
Mile 6 was a bust. Yes, I know, it always is. The State St hill will bring anyone to their limit. But this was even worse. That one mile took me almost 9 minutes. I couldn't believe, after having done so well up until then, why I would suddenly slow down that much. Miles 7 through 9 weren't much better. I did finish with a decent time, 71:30, but that was several minutes off of what I expected and was trained for. And, boy was I beat!
At first I was puzzled. You know, even with 30 years of forewarning, there's still a large element of denial when you have to face the truth. What made me know it was truly serious was that three or four weeks after the race, I was still not fully recovered. Recovery from a 15K race always did take more than a week. I would expect to be more tired than usual on longer runs for up to 9 or 10 days out, but not 20 or 30 days later. By then I had an appointment with my cardiologist and it didn't take too many tests for him to arrive at the conclusion that running was now contra-indicated as they say.
So, stop was the order of the day. But I never stopped "being" a runner. I walked every day, vigorously too. Walked with a vengeance and with a solid determination that as soon as I was able, I'd be back running. I kept going to HMRRC events doing 3 winter series races at a fast walk. I walked one 5K in 34:30 which ain't shabby. I can hardly beat that running these days.
It was on July 26, 1991 that I had the aortic valve replaced by an artificial ticker. Oh yeah, don't tell anyone but I snuck in one "last" mile the day before my surgery, just in case it was to be my last and I wrote it dutifully in my log book as such.
Obviously all went well. It did take several weeks before I could try to run again. The first time out I think I got 80 yards before gasping for breath and having to walk. A week later, a quarter mile. Three weeks later a whole mile. Six months later 10 miles on a nice sunny Saturday morning felt good. But the whole sequence from full-stop to "I ran a mile today" was less than a year, mere months. Out of 15 years it's hardly noticeable and it's certainly not a reason to say I stopped being a runner. I just paused my training for a bit is all. A year later you'd never have known I even skipped a beat and now 15 years and 15,000 more miles later, who cares.
It's been a good trip all in all with a few bumps along the route but the enjoyment has been in the traveling because there is no destination, only an endless road stretching out over the horizon. I can't see all the way to the end, I thought I did once, but when I reached the top of that hill there was still a lot more road up ahead. I think from what I see now that maybe I've got at least another 15 to go. I'll have to get back to you on that.
