‘My SCAD Heart Attack At 56 Led To A Fitness Transformation.’
I never thought I’d have a heart attack. I am a former ballet dancer and track and field competitor, as well as a regionally ranked master’s triathlete. I’ve consistently worked out and raced since my early 20s. Even in my 50s, I was still competing in high-intensity events, like sprint and Olympic distance triathlons, road races, and a century (100-mile) bike ride. It would be an understatement to say that exercise, specifically competitions, was a huge part of my identity—until January 2019, when I was 56.
I was driving to a work meeting as a commercial real estate broker when I began feeling like something was blocking my ability to swallow. Then, I started feeling pressure and pain in my chest and I felt a sensation radiating up into my jaw and down my right arm. I drove myself to the emergency room—which I do not recommend—where I found out I was experiencing a heart attack as a result of a spontaneous coronary artery dissection (SCAD).
It’s not really known what causes SCAD, but my doctors thought it could be related to my fibromuscular dysphasia, a condition that can weaken arteries. I also wondered whether my high-stress job was a contributing factor, or that I’d undergone radiation treatment for stage one breast cancer on my left side in 2013, which could have potentially weakened an artery in my heart. Fortunately, my doctors were able to treat me with medications, including a blood vasodilator, blood pressure medication, potassium, and a statin.
After the heart attack, I was in shock and denial—I thought it was nearly impossible for me to have one since I was so fit, didn’t smoke or take drugs, ate relatively well, and had regular physical exams. Just two days before my SCAD occurred, I ran five miles and felt great. But by the time I left the hospital after five days, it was a big deal for me to just walk around our house or go up stairs with some assistance.
For the next four months, I went to cardiac rehab, where I returned to exercising, starting with a few minutes of treadmill walking. I was by far the youngest and the most in-shape person at rehab. I was happy to start getting back to my life, but it was also incredibly emotionally difficult because I wasn’t physically capable of doing much.
This mental and emotional adjustment to my new reality was the hardest part of the journey, but I was proud of myself for getting through it. I returned to the hospital once after my heart attack with severe chest pain, but it wasn’t anything serious, and doctors just modified my medications. Since then, I’ve been healthy, with maybe a handful of times where I’ve had chest pain, but just took nitroglycerin, a medication used to prevent and treat chest pain, and felt fine afterward.
My post-heart attack world involved figuring out what workouts I could do without risking my health.
It required a bit of trial and error. After finishing cardiac rehab, I was allowed to jog on a treadmill for eight minutes at a time at a low speed, like an 11- to 13-minute mile. But my doctor said I couldn’t race anymore if I was going to be competitive and push myself, and that was devastating.
Still, I wanted fitness in my life, so I began to experiment with different ways to exercise. My main limitations were that I wasn’t supposed to get my heart rate over 115 beats per minute or lift more than 20 pounds overhead anymore.
Since running and swimming increased my heart rate, I played around with speed, slowing down where possible, and duration. Eventually, I was able to do some sort of workout six days a week for about 40 minutes.
Now, at 62, I do almost all of the activities I used to do—walking, cycling, swimming, and jogging. Most of my cardio lives in zone 2 (it feels like an easy-to-moderate level of effort), so when I run, I average about a 10- or 10.5-minute mile. I also follow some strength training videos and lift lighter dumbbells for more reps to gain lean muscle and endurance.
My heart attack re-affirmed to me that I have value even though I’m not a competitive athlete anymore.
For years, much of my self-worth was driven by winning competitions and conquering new and harder athletic endeavors. But now I know that my value is no longer based on what I win or how often I work out. It took me a while to internalize my inherent value, but over the past five years, I’ve reflected on what I was really getting out of being a competitive athlete and whether I had value and self-satisfaction outside of that identity.
Eventually, I realized that merely because I exist as a human being trying to be a good person, I have value—even if I’m not winning race medals anymore. If I’m having a hard week or I feel like an emotional mess sometimes, I’ll practice self-care by listening to music, going for a walk and enjoying the weather, and giving myself some patience and grace, rather just putting myself through a really tough workout.
For me, exercise is now about having fun—not pushing myself as hard as possible.
Accepting my new normal was a gradual process, but I realized that I don’t need to race the way I used to—nor can I, without risking my health. Now, I get to work out more with my husband, which we often weren’t able to do because I was frequently training for a race. I really enjoy our sessions, and the fun we have together has replaced much of the satisfaction I used to get from competing.
I just ran my first 5K in June after five and a half years with him. I was slow, averaging about an 11-minute-mile—but that was a huge milestone because I was able to stand at the starting line and know that it was just for fun. We also did a cycling trip in August, which was five days of cycling about 15 to 25 miles a day. I just kept track of my heart rate and if there was a challenging, hilly course one day, I’d take a less challenging route. And we’re excited about another cycling trip in October.
Though experiencing a heart attack was shocking, I believe my commitment to health and fitness helped me survive.
During one of my first appointments post-heart attack, my cardiologist said, “You’re 56, but one of the reasons you’ve survived and endured so well after this incident is because your heart thinks it’s 30.”
People always told me they were in shock that this could happen to me since I worked out all the time. They said they thought all of my hard work was for nothing, but it wasn’t. If I wasn’t healthy, maybe I wouldn’t have survived my SCAD or been able to thrive again because I had a healthy physical foundation to build on.
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