Running Was My Lifeline Until It Nearly Killed Me

After growing up in a home where I was never noticed or praised no matter how perfect or accomplished I was — running, and running fast — became my lifeline. It was the perfect way to fill the void of being noticed.
I loved everything about running and that fueled my obsession even more:
The sound of my feet hitting the ground.
The schedule and the predictability of my daily routine.
I became so obsessed with running AND other endurance sports that I once set up a table of cups filled with water in my driveway and ran back and forth in front of them practicing how to drink water without spilling it all over my face. I did it because I heard you could cut a few seconds off your race time if you could seamlessly run through water stations.
After I ran my first marathon, I knew I wanted to treat other runners and endurance athletes.
I graduated from a top DPT program (Emory) and completed an orthopaedic residency.I was recruited by a competitive outpatient practice.
All that obsession and hard work seemingly paid off. Eventually, I was a sought after specialist with a patient waiting list that was 4–6 months long.
Five years into practicing and building a reputation as an endurance athlete specialist, I had my son.
A year later, my heart nearly burst out of my chest — yes, while running, of all things.
I’d gone into ventricular tachycardia. It actually wasn’t the first time it happened. But it was the first time I couldn’t ignore it.
I know it seems strange for a healthy-appearing, active athlete to have major heart problems
It baffled the medical world, too. I spent hours and days in hospitals and doctors’ offices, searching for answers and diagnoses.
Test after test came back negative.
Things kept getting missed and no one knew what was wrong with me.
I saw what it was like to be written off when I was told that I needed to “just stop running,” as if being an athlete was something that I could just simply turn off. It is part of my DNA.
I felt angry, scared, and frustrated that no one could give me answers. I sat in crowded, fluorescent light-filled waiting rooms full of “sick” people and I didn’t feel sick. I was told I couldn’t run or train with my friends. I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I felt lost.
Ironically — the girl who had once turned to running to be noticed and included now felt completely alone and invisible.
I knew from that moment I needed to be heard, and couldn’t be passive in my own care.
I needed someone to be on my side to see that I was not just a heart patient or an athlete that just couldn’t do her sport.
After finally taking the reins and advocating for myself, I found the answer — a cardiologist who — bridged the best of both worlds — he understood heart problems AND athletes, all at once.
We did some specialized tests and eventually finally figured out what was wrong. I was diagnosed with arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy (ARVC), a rare, genetic heart disease that exercise makes worse.
Yes, you heard that right. The more you exercise the worse it gets.
The afterload on the heart during endurance exercise causes the desmosomes in the heart cells to break and begin to scar down. The scarring causes dangerous arrhythmias and eventually if there are enough scars the ventricle can become floppy and no longer contract well leading to heart failure.
So even though I succeeded in finding the answer, I learned the devastating truth:
Because of this condition, I could never run, swim, or bike again.
And yes, I felt devastated. I cried. I screamed. I grieved.
I grieved the loss of my life as I knew it. My daily routine, the time spent with my friends, and even the 5 am wake up call to lace up my shoes and get out the door before sunrise.
But there was also a lot I learned.
I learned running was my only coping mechanism and without it my toolbox was empty so I needed to fill it.
I learned that doing more was not always better.
Perhaps the most important thing that happened in this process, though, was that my eyes opened to what it felt like to be an endurance athlete who was a patient.
Becoming the patient also showed me I needed to change the way I was approaching my life and how I was treating my own patients
I had been pushing myself so hard for so long in my sport and career that I never stopped to take a breather.
And I never noticed all the pieces I was missing when it came to my own patients’ care.
I — like so many of the providers I’d encountered as the patient — often got so fixated and focused on fixing the physical body and performance characteristics of the athlete, that I often missed the deeper, less tangible human elements hiding within the athlete.
Slowly, I transitioned to a new way of doing things.
Personally, I got help to change some of my old patterns that were holding me back.And professionally, I left my high-stress, 50-hour-per-week PT job. And I jumped off the cliff and started my own practice so I could develop a whole new way of treating endurance athletes.
I started teaching an endurance athlete course in PT school so I could help young professionals learn — before they even enter the health profession — a new approach to treating the whole endurance athlete — body, mind, and spirit. I developed a course called, The Running Athlete for physical therapists that want to treat more than just a runner’s injury — a course to help healthcare providers recognize that runners are more than just their physical body.
I started a podcast with a friend and colleague called More Than Miles, to scream from every rooftop that runners are more than their sport and deserve to be seen as such.
I also started speaking and wrote a few books. My first book, Racing Heart, shared my journey to hopefully help others in similar circumstances see that they’re not alone and that there is hope. Go Ahead Stop and Pee: Running during Pregnancy and Postpartum to help women find support after they have a baby and want to get back into running and a healthy lifestyle.
Now, I am a physical therapist, author, educator, podcaster, and entrepreneur. Wow — that is a mouth full.
I have built the foundation of what it means to be a runner and now I have built a way everyone, runners and those who want to run — to finally do it in a healthy way. To address their whole health, mental, physical and emotional through Fast Bananas and the RUNsource platform.I was forced to slow down so I could see more. I know that running is a tool, we, humans can use to improve our mental, emotional and physical health. We can decrease stress and anxiety and be in nature by moving our bodies- no matter how slowly or how long. Running is not meant to be a tool to push away everything we don’t want to face. Running is a gift to be grateful for. Anyone can run they just need to know where to start.
Thank you for reading