Half Hour Run

Okay, it wasn't fast and it wasn't very long, only 30 minutes on a treadmill but it was a run, my first run in something like three months, since the morning of August 4th. I remember that Saturday morning very well, five miles into a six mile run then kerboom, on my butt out like a light with my first and I hope last heart attack.

I showed up Monday evening for my prescribed cardio-rehab session at the gym down the street and my favorite cardio girl asked me "are you ready to run?" I could have cried, laughed, hugged her, jumped up and down screaming at the top of my lungs OH HELL YA!. But I quietly said "yes I am." And I confess that deep down inside there was a bit of fear that maybe I could not do it..

For around four weeks I had been walking the treadmill then striding on the eliptical trainer and waiting for the moment I could try a little run and it was a tiny one, but damn it felt good! I set out on a nice and easy 4-1/2 mile per hour pace, something like 13 min per mile and got this ol heart up to the low 130 beat per minute area and stayed there. I wanted to push a little more but I also want to ease back into this running biz and try to avoid doing something really stupid. Near the end of the 30 minute run my heart rate did climb up close to 140, so I FINALLY got in a workout, a good sweat to the point I toweled off a couple of times and soaked my gym shirt pretty well. Twas beautiful! And this from someone who used to despise treadmill work.

I even got an atta boy. "You runners are amazing, you did good," the beautiful cardio girl said. Of course I'm in love again. She had told me at my first cardio session they would have me up and running soon. She's just cool! Maybe she just told me runners are amazing to make sure I came back to rehab but I don't care, it worked, I'm going back for another session.

The five minute cool down was eventful too since instead of walking slowly on the treadmill I decided to walk around the track that circles the gym area including the cardio setup and didn't realize the heart rate monitor I was wearing didn't throw a signal to the monitors from the far side of the track, so I got scolded a little.

"Don't walk around the track because you flat-lined on the monitor and we thought we lost you," she said. However, she said it politely and with a smile and told me to just walk up and down the little straightaway so they can keep track of me and my healing heart.

So, as usual, I caused a little commotion but I apologized and won't do that again but I'm looking forward to my next run. It will be another easy one but it's a long way from flat on my back the first week of August with a fresh nine-inch incision through my breast bone. And I'm a long way from walking with a cane through much of August and early September.

Maybe there really is life after heart surgery?