So I heard you had a heart attack….
Yes, as a matter of fact I did.
This is a story about me having a heart attack but it is also a story about miracles. A heart attack is not good, but a lot of good things have happened.
Here it goes:
The cardiologist told me: “somebody wins the lottery everyday”. Two weeks ago today I won the lottery…
The Race Report
(skip this if you’re here for the good stuff)
At 7:00 am Friday March 28th after several months of training and preparation I toed the line at the antelope island 50 miler; arguably, in the best trail shape of my life. The weather was perfect and the sun was just starting to rise.
I went out feeling good. A lead pack formed featuring some local running legends, people I look up to, and admire. I admit, I was here, in some capacity, trying to prove to myself (and maybe some of these guys) that I could be competitive in this space. Maybe I would get myself on some peoples radar too.
I was feeling comfortable in this lead pack, and that made me feel pretty cool.
After the sun came up, I got too warm for my jacket and managed to sneak it out from underneath my vest without stopping, in one of the smoothest running wardrobe adjustments of my life.
I got to meet a trail running icon, Finn Melanson, host of the only podcast I’ve regularly listened to, the Singletrack pod, and future director of this race. Starstruck, I probably embarrassed the both of us.
I spent most of the first 10-12 miles chatting with the eventual winner: Alex Proctor (a name that should be on peoples radar) and CTS coach John Fitzgerald. Around mile 12, Sam Collins (another big name in the local trail scene) flew past us.
Our little pack broke up around mile 16 at the Lower Frary aid station. John had adopted a more conservative pace and I stopped to top off my fuel stores and water. Alex cruised through the aid station in F1 pit-stop style and left me fumbling for gels and water. I had been pretty consistent with a 1 gel, 1 fruit snack per hour nutrition protocol up to this point, and already gone through almost a liter of water.
I took a gel just after leaving the aid station (SIS GO +electrolyte) that did not sit well. I have found my body does not respond well to electrolyte-heavy fuel sources. This is part of why I was relying heavily on the SIS GO isotonic gels and welches fruit snacks.
My stomach started to recover around mile 18-20. Just before 10:00, about 21-23 miles in, I started feeling off again. Some GI distress returned along with fatigue and maybe some shortness of breath. As I turned off a dirt road onto some singletrack, Finn caught up to me. Right after that, I was hit by a sudden dire need to urinate :/. I pulled a few feet off the trail to relieve myself on the only available “bush”. Before I could get back to the trail I was throwing up. By the time I got back to the trail my chest was hurting. I walked the rest of the way to the next aid station around mile 25.
A lot had gone through my head at this point. I tossed around the idea of dropping from the race. My original goal (and my training) was to win, and if not win, ensure whoever did win would have to break the 14 year old course record to do so. If things didn’t go according to that plan, I was pretty bound and determined to finish and try to enjoy some of this 50 mile adventure, even if the miles were slower than intended. I had used my “once every few years” dropout card a couple years back and was pretty determined not to drop right now. By the time I reached the Bridger Bay aid station, though, my only goal was to sit down.
I plopped down in an empty camp chair, shivering uncontrollably. The weather was nice but not warm and slowing to a walk, I got cold. The kind aid station volunteers offered me a couple blankets and I tried to warm up unsuccessfully. After 20 minutes or so, my chest was feeling a little more normal. I decided moving might help me warm up and Emily was waiting for me at the next aid station, only 3 miles away, There, I figured, I could decide to continue on or call it a day.
To The O.R.
I left the Bridger bay aid station with two Winco frosted oatmeal cookies. A few hundred feet out I took a nibble from the first cookie and my condition deteriorated rapidly. The nausea got worse and the chest pain returned. As I turned back to the aid station I began to vomit. At this point most of the pack had caught me. I threw up a few more times before I got back to the aid station. Everyone passing me was very supportive. A kind soul suggested I “just needed some Pepto-Bismol”. I think he even offered me some of his. Nobody cheers barf like ultra runners.
I informed the volunteers I would not be continuing on. I texted Emily and she came to pick me up. Here occurred one of many small miracles. Crew was not technically allowed at the Bridger bay aid station due to parking limitations. I’m sure it would’ve been fine if Emily needed to come get me but Emily and I had unwittingly camped in the Bridger bay campground the night before. Turns out our campsite was right next to the aid station and we had it reserved until 11:00. She pulled into our campsite, retrieved me from the camp chair and didn’t need to worry about parking at all.
It is also worth noting, these big trail races often traverse remote areas serviced only by dirt roads or singletrack trails. I was registered for the Bear 100 this fall which traverses through lots of not-so-accessible country. Antelope Island, particularly in the first half of this race, is very accessible. Were talking paved roads and good signage. I also had a phone on me and great cell service, most races I don’t even bring my phone because I won’t have service the whole time. Coincidence or miracle? You decide.
Just walking to the car made me very lightheaded. At this point I was not very much help and Emily had to take over affairs. Not knowing what to do, her first move was to head off the Island. Then, being the wise and loving spouse she is, she decided I needed to go to urgent care. I wasn’t in a position to make many decisions at this point so I’m glad she did. All I was good for was to curl up in the passenger seat and try to convince myself I was ok. Three weeks prior, I had experienced some chest pain a few hours after a sweaty treadmill workout but once I got some fluids in me the pain went away. I figured that was just dehydration and this must be something similar (maybe it was?). Come to find out, dehydration was not my problem.
Google maps took us to the first “urgent care”, which turned out to be a family practice doctor’s office. The second urgent care was closed for lunch. By this point I was a little more coherent. We debated trying a third urgent care and almost just drove back to Logan. After consulting Emily’s dad we tried a third urgent care somewhere in Roy. To Emily’s relief, these guys got me in quick and did the first EKG. It must’ve been a pretty good looking EKG because it won me a ride on an ambulance, sirens and all. Here we heard the words “heart attack” for the first time.
I have been told more than once that, even if we had com back to logan, I would likely have ended up at Mckay-Dee Hospital in my condition. An ambulance ride is a lot cheaper than life flight. I think I see another miracle.
In the ambulance, the paramedics put me on oxygen, gave me some “nitro”, and tried to keep me entertained the best I could. I also think its worth noting that all the paramedics had sweet mustaches.
At the ER they did more screenings and the ER doc told me I might be having a heart attack, but the cardiologist, Dr. Brunson, would have to figure that out. They brought him in, he looked at everything and said the only way he was going to know was to go through my arm, into my heart, to check things out. Into the operating room I went.
The Operating Room
The first step was prep. That means I was hoisted onto the operating room table and traded what clothes I had left for a nice hospital blanket (to keep me decent).
I’m not a doctor but this is what I could gather went down. To do a catheterization and angiogram the doctors stick a tube up into the vessels of the heart through an artery. They can go in through the right arm or the groin. The right arm is preferred because after a groin catheter you can’t move for several hours. Once inside the heart the doctors can squirt some dye into the blood vessels. The dye shows up on an x-ray they are taking of your heart. By looking at where the dye goes a trained medical professional (not me) can locate blockages in the heart arteries.
They prepped both the groin and arm areas with some orange numbing stuff and got to work. Into the right arm they went. I was lying next to a big TV with a clear plastic shield covering it which I can only assume is to keep the blood off. The doctor pulled down a big gray x-ray machine and a few seconds later I could see what looked like the faint outline of a heart on the big TV next to me. That was my heart. The doctor said something to his assistant and a little puff of fluid appeared inside the outline on the screen next to me. The doctor started moving things around, squirting little puffs of dye as he went.
At some point he found the artery he was looking for and instead of making little puffs the dye would shoot down into the artery and reveal the branches and vessels. I could see them bend and flex each time my heart beat. I could also see little black dots in few places along the arteries where the dye got stuck…
At one point, the doctor got pretty deep into my heart. I started to feel nauseous so I asked: “what do I do If i don’t feel so good?”. The doc said: “just turn your head to the side”. I did, and just in time, the nurse arrived with a barf bag.
After poking around in my heart for a while the cardiologist said, sure enough, it was a heart attack. There were three blockages, one at the top of my left anterior descending artery (affectionately referred to as “the widowmaker”) and two much closer to the end. One of the clots near the end of the artery was a full blockage, but the top the artery was only 90% blocked. This meant the majority of my heart still had good blood flow and oxygen. Things could have been a lot worse.
I was on a nice cocktail of blood thinners at this point so Dr. Brunson was able to suck out much of the clotting near the ends of the arteries. I guess something else was going on at the top of the artery. After getting most of the clotting out the artery was still too narrow. Dr. Brunson placed a stent there to restore full blood flow. The assistant showed me the jar with all the clots in it. Then they took all the instruments out. To keep me from bleeding out and making a mess of the place they put an air compression bandage thing on my wrist.
After I was all put back together they brought in Emily and my parents, who had made it down from Logan by this time. Dr Brunson showed them the surgery highlight reel on the big screen and gave them the skinny on my condition.
The Hospital Stay
After the surgery I spent a few hours in a post op bay. Most of the time I sat there in shock and talked to Emily. I remember less of what happened there than I do of the surgery. There were several very kind nurses checking up on me often. At some point they tried to let the some air out of my air bandage but I bled all over the pillow my arm was resting on. The blood was crazy thin, like red water, a little unsettling.
The first night was rough, I was still on an IV and the not-so-portable EKG. Going to the bathroom was an ordeal and I was getting my blood pressure taken constantly. My heart felt a little like it had been through a garbage disposal and occasionally I would get a bought of strange heart rhythms. It was nothing long enough to concern the doctor but I think I gave the nurses and my wife a good scare around 3 am. Around 6 I fell asleep for a good two hours and when I woke up I felt TONS better.
The next three days, I chilled in a hospital room. Eventually the IVs came out. I got put on a portable EKG and could pee whenever I wanted. At some point on day two I got a shower and the gave me some scrub pants to wear. I have never been more grateful for pants in my life.
I was almost never alone, my mom, dad, wife, mother-in-law, some aunts and uncles, and siblings, all made it out to see me and kept me plenty entertained. I think I had one hour alone to sit and think. I went on lots of walks with cardiac rehab, and watched a lot of Bluey. One of the cardiac rehab ladies was a runner coached by the legend himself Hayden Hawks, another lady had been out to antelope island to crew a friend later on the same day I had the heart attack (she also thought Emily was my sister). On Monday I regained my freedom and went home.
Now I’m here, the same, but different. I probably won’t be doing much serious running for the next bit, just going on my “hot girl walks” and hanging out with my homies at cardiac rehab. I will also probably be doing some adjusting.
We don’t totally know what happened to cause this, and we don’t know what life will bring next but I look forward to many more miracles. It might depend on when you ask me, but for the most part, I’m doing great now. Very few times in my life have I felt more like I was nestled in the hands of a wise and caring God, and as I look back, I can see it has been that way for a long time before this too. I am grateful for the many wonderful people who have helped and will help along the way. Let’s hope the next lottery I win has a different prize, maybe just some ice cream, or some stickers. 🙂
Stay tuned for the ride:
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