S
South Sound Sailor
I'm 50 years old and I found out 4 days ago that the heart murmur I've known about since I was 7 years old is now stepping up to take the center stage of my life.
I can remember going to see specialists in Houston 40-plus years ago; a final visit in 1964 in which my parents (and I) were told that I needed to just be careful when I was playing. I'm guessing like thousands of other people who have heard similar things, I never again considered that advice... until 4 days ago. Four days ago my cardiologist told me in clear and convincing language that it was time for me to stop running.
I've been a runner since I was 13 years old (and that's going way back before running was a fad or before marathons attracted 10s of thousands). As a young teen, I ran in Junior Olympics in the summertime, cross-country in the fall. Never quite fast enough to be a
star but always strong enough to finish in the middle of the pack and feeling like I still had plenty of juice left. I have 5 marathons, all fairly recent, on my list of running accomplishments along with countless 5 and 10Ks and a good number of half-marathons. I'm one of those crazy guys who relishes waking up in the morning at 4:30 am, strapping on a pair of running shoes, shorts and a long-sleeve tee, meeting 1 or 2 fellow crazy-runners and heading out into 30 degree temps for a 10 mile run.
I've run in the blasting heat and humidity of Southeast Texas, in the hills of Arkansas, in the flatland of northern Louisiana and in the dry desert heat of West Texas. For the past 4 years, the Pac Northwest has been my home. I live just one mile from the southernmost tip of the Puget Sound. The rain here never slowed me down... and I tell all my runners back in the heat and humidity of the south that I landed in runners' paradise.
But 2 years ago things started to change for me. Running uphill was no longer fun, no longer the easy thing for me. Running uphill was always where I made my move in races. I found I could pass people who were huffing and puffing and I would smile and throw out a "good run!" or "awesome weather!"... any goofy little comment to underscore that I was actually having fun running uphill. Two years ago, 8 miles into a 12 mile run, and going up what I've considered in the past to be an easy uphill grade, I experienced something I've never felt before... the urge to stop running, the feeling like I could not use my sheer will power to haul my body up the hill. I stopped running and walked and wondered... what the heck... is this what nearing 50 is all about?
Then in the following months, a heavy feeling in my heart started to set in every time I ran uphill. I'd mention this to doctors and I'd get zero reaction. Stage 1 hypertension brought me into a doctor's office 2 months ago. Here I was, a 20 to 30 to sometimes 40 mile a week runner for the past 37 years and I'm dealing with high blood pressure and the inability to run uphill. Plus I was having problems keeping my heart rate within 60 to 80% max range. It was zooming up to 80% and beyond on even the easiest of training runs. Doctor says lets check out this murmur just to be safe.
So the echocardiogram was done about 6 weeks ago... this is NOT what I thought male mid-life crisis was supposed to be about!!! Working my way back to where I started this short story... my cardiologist tells me 4 days ago... stop running. Period. Mild walking... maybe but even that can bring about sudden death syndrome, a real but possible concern.
I don't know all the technical stuff but I'm requesting reports. I know I have aortic valve stenosis but I don't know if it's a bicuspid valve or just a calcified tricuspid. I know the dizziness and fatigue are growing concerns and even though the cardiologist suggested that I consider AVR in 1 to 2 years, I'm thinking there's no way I can wait that long. So for the past few weeks, I've been pouring over this forum, trying to find information I can relate to and will help me make a decision. Valve types, doctor and hospital reputations, with a prosthetic will I click aftewards? Oink, moo or coumadin for life? Reops???
It's not that I'm overwhelmed or depressed... I'm in denial. I just want more than anything to be able to wake up in the morning and sneak out before sunrise, mp3 headset purring away in my ear, glancing up and down my street at all the neighbors' windows... thinking "why is everyone still asleep???... doesn't anyone know what they're missing out on???" At this time of the morning, the sky is still mostly dark. Just a hint of red in the eastern sky. I imagine rounding the corner of my street and looking across the lower Puget Sound and for the shadow of Mt. Rainier on the horizon. I miss that feeling that I can run forever... and then I read posts in these forums that suggest maybe, just maybe I'll experience that again someday. I have big decisions to make in 2008. I can't become a sedentary person waiting for symptoms to get so bad that I become a medical emergency.
If anyone has bothered to read this far, thank you. If anyone is at the same stage I'm at right now... I wish you the best of luck and will suggest we say a collective prayer to get through this together. And if you're a runner at the same stage I'm at, I KNOW you understand exactly where I'm coming from. Most of all, to the person or people who dreamed up this web site and to those of you who help maintain it and to those of you who are so willing to share personal stories and advice: from the bottom of my laboring, enlarged left-ventricle heart, I thank you.
I can remember going to see specialists in Houston 40-plus years ago; a final visit in 1964 in which my parents (and I) were told that I needed to just be careful when I was playing. I'm guessing like thousands of other people who have heard similar things, I never again considered that advice... until 4 days ago. Four days ago my cardiologist told me in clear and convincing language that it was time for me to stop running.
I've been a runner since I was 13 years old (and that's going way back before running was a fad or before marathons attracted 10s of thousands). As a young teen, I ran in Junior Olympics in the summertime, cross-country in the fall. Never quite fast enough to be a
star but always strong enough to finish in the middle of the pack and feeling like I still had plenty of juice left. I have 5 marathons, all fairly recent, on my list of running accomplishments along with countless 5 and 10Ks and a good number of half-marathons. I'm one of those crazy guys who relishes waking up in the morning at 4:30 am, strapping on a pair of running shoes, shorts and a long-sleeve tee, meeting 1 or 2 fellow crazy-runners and heading out into 30 degree temps for a 10 mile run.
I've run in the blasting heat and humidity of Southeast Texas, in the hills of Arkansas, in the flatland of northern Louisiana and in the dry desert heat of West Texas. For the past 4 years, the Pac Northwest has been my home. I live just one mile from the southernmost tip of the Puget Sound. The rain here never slowed me down... and I tell all my runners back in the heat and humidity of the south that I landed in runners' paradise.
But 2 years ago things started to change for me. Running uphill was no longer fun, no longer the easy thing for me. Running uphill was always where I made my move in races. I found I could pass people who were huffing and puffing and I would smile and throw out a "good run!" or "awesome weather!"... any goofy little comment to underscore that I was actually having fun running uphill. Two years ago, 8 miles into a 12 mile run, and going up what I've considered in the past to be an easy uphill grade, I experienced something I've never felt before... the urge to stop running, the feeling like I could not use my sheer will power to haul my body up the hill. I stopped running and walked and wondered... what the heck... is this what nearing 50 is all about?
Then in the following months, a heavy feeling in my heart started to set in every time I ran uphill. I'd mention this to doctors and I'd get zero reaction. Stage 1 hypertension brought me into a doctor's office 2 months ago. Here I was, a 20 to 30 to sometimes 40 mile a week runner for the past 37 years and I'm dealing with high blood pressure and the inability to run uphill. Plus I was having problems keeping my heart rate within 60 to 80% max range. It was zooming up to 80% and beyond on even the easiest of training runs. Doctor says lets check out this murmur just to be safe.
So the echocardiogram was done about 6 weeks ago... this is NOT what I thought male mid-life crisis was supposed to be about!!! Working my way back to where I started this short story... my cardiologist tells me 4 days ago... stop running. Period. Mild walking... maybe but even that can bring about sudden death syndrome, a real but possible concern.
I don't know all the technical stuff but I'm requesting reports. I know I have aortic valve stenosis but I don't know if it's a bicuspid valve or just a calcified tricuspid. I know the dizziness and fatigue are growing concerns and even though the cardiologist suggested that I consider AVR in 1 to 2 years, I'm thinking there's no way I can wait that long. So for the past few weeks, I've been pouring over this forum, trying to find information I can relate to and will help me make a decision. Valve types, doctor and hospital reputations, with a prosthetic will I click aftewards? Oink, moo or coumadin for life? Reops???
It's not that I'm overwhelmed or depressed... I'm in denial. I just want more than anything to be able to wake up in the morning and sneak out before sunrise, mp3 headset purring away in my ear, glancing up and down my street at all the neighbors' windows... thinking "why is everyone still asleep???... doesn't anyone know what they're missing out on???" At this time of the morning, the sky is still mostly dark. Just a hint of red in the eastern sky. I imagine rounding the corner of my street and looking across the lower Puget Sound and for the shadow of Mt. Rainier on the horizon. I miss that feeling that I can run forever... and then I read posts in these forums that suggest maybe, just maybe I'll experience that again someday. I have big decisions to make in 2008. I can't become a sedentary person waiting for symptoms to get so bad that I become a medical emergency.
If anyone has bothered to read this far, thank you. If anyone is at the same stage I'm at right now... I wish you the best of luck and will suggest we say a collective prayer to get through this together. And if you're a runner at the same stage I'm at, I KNOW you understand exactly where I'm coming from. Most of all, to the person or people who dreamed up this web site and to those of you who help maintain it and to those of you who are so willing to share personal stories and advice: from the bottom of my laboring, enlarged left-ventricle heart, I thank you.
