Ralking (Run/Walking) the Baltimore Running Festival Relay - Entrepreneur Generations

Was feeling so good going through Camden Yards.

In the summer of 2014, I signed up to run the Baltimore Marathon Relay.

It didn't work out. In August of that year, I was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy, with only a 35% Ejection Fraction. I discovered it while completing my first triathlon, and the next several months were scary, including a little heart surgical procedure in October to check for blockages (there weren't any).

I was put on a battery of medicines and, over the next year, my Ejection Fraction improved to around 55% -- the lower limit of the normal range. My cardiologist gave me permission to train for the Baltimore Relay that I had deferred the previous year.

Still, training wasn't fun. My legs always felt heavy and, in general, I've felt pretty unhealthy since the school year started.

Lake Montebello

My trip this week to the cardiologist revealed why: my heart function has decreased about 10% this school year, and my Ejection Fraction is now in the 45-50% range, something my cardiologist attributed just to the stress, lack of sleep, and lack of exercise that comes with the school year. These things, I can fix, I hope.

But I did train this summer and fall, whether it was long walk/runs with the dog or trips to the gym, which never faded below 3 times a week, even in my most stressful times of the school year. I found three new willing partners: an old friend from college, an old friend from blogging, and a colleague at school. I chose the final leg of the relay for myself, the longest (7.2 miles) but reportedly the most downhill of legs; it stretches from Lake Clifton High School, around Lake Montebello, down 33rd, and then down Howard all the way to Ravens Stadium.

As the date of the run approached, my close friends expressed worry. They had heard my hard breathing after climbing a flight of stairs (something my cardiologist says is pretty normal); they had seen the cardiac readings of my FitBit Charge after only walking down the hall. They corrected me when I said I was

Finish Line

going to run the Baltimore Marathon Relay, telling me I should walk it. Never letting an opportunity for dark, self-deprecating humor to pass, I would joke that the race was my Swan Song.

Still, I was never actually worried. I know how I feel and how to listen to my body. My only worries were that I just wouldn't be able to do it, or have to do most of it walking. Or that I would just get too tired and decide to bow out just before the race occurred.

But I was okay. In fact, I felt more than okay through the entire run. I never felt out of breath; I never felt any chest pressure. Instead, I felt strong through the 7.2 miles, and only in the second half did the pounding 275 pounds repeatedly start to take its toll on my feet, thighs, and back. That's to be expected. What I shouldn't feel, and never felt, was breathlessness, nausea, faintness, or heart palpitations.

I somehow moved my body the 7.2 miles in 1 hour and 47 minutes, just under a 15 min/mile pace. I cycled 2 minutes of running against 1 minute of walking and, towards the end, that varied a bit -- sometimes to 1:1, sometimes to 3:1, especially as I was nearing the finish line.

But even as my feet and back ached, the run was exhilarating. The route was full of people watching the race, all of them cheering the runners on. I gave high 5s to dozens of people. Chugging down Howard Street, a fellow runner grunted, "You've got this." It was awesome.

When I was nearing the finish line and eventually crossing it, my eyes started welling up. By the time I finished, tears were running down my face along with the cold sweat. Just a year before, I was worried about my heart so much that I was joking that I shouldn't buy green bananas. I never would have thought that a year later, my heart would have been so improved that I was able to "ralk" 7.2 miles.

I walked around the post-race celebration, eating free bananas and granola bars, just basking in this feeling of accomplishment. And thinking about what it will feel like to do it again.

I can't wait to do it again next year. I'll either run the relay again, or maybe even the half-marathon.

Next up is the Celtic Solstice 5-Miler, which my cardiologist prescribed me. Really, she did: