(This was written after running to the top of West Mountain, overlooking Bear Mountain, NY, 3 days after I was taken by ambulance to Danbury Hospital for a potential stroke or heart attack on the 4th of July, 2018.)
So in my graduation poem I advised my daughters (who I am so proud of)
if many pass you
go at your own pace
but go
keep going
don't give up
break through.
And I've been running with a really good bunch of guys and women (www.sundayruns.org) who just happened to be for the most part ultra marathon runners. That means that they don't just run marathons of 26 miles on the trails and on Mountain terrain and through deserts. They run twice as much or three times as much or some of them a hundred fifty miles. And the most I've ever run in the woods was 13 piddling miles and I had to practically shuffle the last three.
But I wanted to test myself and see if I could keep up with them. I called it in my head "running with the big dogs". And a month ago I ran with one of the big dogs who had just completed a month earlier a Rim to Rim to Rim (R2R2R) of the Grand Canyon. That means he started on one rim, ran down to the bottom, ran up the other side, turned around and then ran down again and back up to where we started for a total of about 49 miles. And I kept up with him.
And then I had my first asthma attack in 15 years.
And I wanted to finish towards the top of the group of Runners but when we finished there was like 30 people having a really nice birthday breakfast for one of the group. Now technically I don't know where I would have finished because the small group of runners that I thought was leading made a wrong trail turn and added about a mile and a half. (The people I run with call those "bonus miles".)
So that didn't count.
I wanted to test myself again and so on the 4th of July with a small group of these really good runners I stayed with the pack and even among the guys (there were no women that joined us that morning) leading the run for the whole distance in this ridiculous 150% humidity.
But I did it. It was really really hard. I was breathing noticeably harder than any of the others.
And I finished after six and a half miles and I saw a stone bench in the parking lot and I sat. (Here is a short video of the CRAZY run: https://www.relive.cc/view/u2994651859.)
And I promptly had a second asthma attack.
This time I had an inhaler which was my first one prescribed in 15 or so years.
Which didn't help.
Which was followed by tingling in my feet and the guys offered me lots of electrolytes and maple candy and I eventually caught my breath after about 20 minutes.
I was finally able to talk again and was somewhat okay to get back to my car after a half hour. The guys asked me repeatedly if I was okay and I thought I was. I drove back the 20 minutes to my place and then had a couple of cups of coffee and still had tingling feet and then I noticed a pain in my left hand and I first said "well that's interesting" and then I said maybe I'll go to Urgent Care for some medical advice. Well, the long and the short is they sent me by ambulance to Danbury Hospital where I had to spend the night for observation after which they said there was really nothing wrong with my heart, which was my first night in a hospital. (And during which night and morning, because of the surroundings and being hooked up with 8 or 9 wires, I somehow felt like an invalid.)
Now, frankly, I should have been able to tell them there was nothing at all whatsoever wrong with my heart, because, for Pete's sake, I can run (slowly) up mountains!
I have a high-deductible insurance plan and this was a very expensive lesson.
But the lesson learned are very plain. I should heed my own advice and run at my own pace and stop for a drink or a snack here and there and take pictures and admire the cliffs and the views and the flowers and the sun-dappled moss.
(And I'm not, by any means, an invalid.)
I will continue to get to the top of mountains much slower than these ultra-marathon runners.
But I WILL get to the top.
And maybe I'll sit down and write. Or maybe I'll sing loudly in my Jimmy Durante voice "Make Someone Happy". Or maybe I'll do both.
And I'll smile.
(P.S. Mimi, please don't share this particular story with my mother.)
Douglas J. D'Jay, the IT manager at Ridgefield Visiting Nurse Association, wakes in the wee hours of the morning so he can run up or hike up a local mountain (rain or shine) before beginning his workday.
D'Jay's photos of our local landscape are breathtaking and we have decided to make his words of wisdom and photography a regular feature on HamletHub.
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