So I got the email below out of the blue last weekend… from the guy that I (and several other people) did CPR on during the Hamilton Marathon!!! What a great surprise!!!
Apparently he stumbled across the LOSTswimming.com website and saw my post about the marathon and “our shared experience”. Sounds like he’s doing well… and is an amazing athlete! I’ve chatted with him a few times after his initial email, seems like a nice guy too… and I look forward to meeting him!
Glad to hear you are back with us Ted!!!
Check it out below…!!! (the original post about what happened is below, posted on Nov 11, titled “Fall Marathons… and some perspective!”)
I’m the “trim, fit looking runner with a Boston Marathon shirt” who had a sudden cardiac arrest in front of you as you watched the Hamilton Marathon. I just want to let you know that I’m home, getting better and incredibly thankful you decided not to run the marathon that day.
I stumbled upon your November 11th LOST Swimming blog: “Fall marathons… and some perspective…” this morning. I’m glad I did. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been able to identify and thank many of the first responders who played a part in helping save my life. You’re aware of the bleak statistics regarding the likelihood of surviving a sudden cardiac arrest. With your help and that of others on the scene – runners, spectators, St John’s Ambulance volunteers, members of the race medical team, Hamilton EMS and the cardiac team at Hamilton General – I beat those odds and survived. In the words of a cardiologist friend of my sister, I ran to the best place to have a cardiac arrest (i.e., close to the medical tent, among and in front of people with a strong sense of community, and in a city with one of the best cardiac hospitals in Ontario. I feel incredibly fortunate.
On November 3rd, I was running the half marathon with my daughter, who was well ahead of me. Five weeks before, I’d cycled to the summit of Mont Ventoux in France and three weeks before that had completed the 140 kilometre GTA Gran Fondo with an average speed of 29.7 kph. Based on my running-training, I was targeting a 1:45 or so half marathon in Hamilton and had accepted I’d finish behind my daughter. It had been a fun, easy-going and uneventful race, up to that point about 300 metres from the finish. I was running in the flow, mindful only of my pace, the beautiful sunshine on my face and the runners running toward me who were heading for the turn-around behind me. And then I awoke two days later in Hamilton General Hospital. I’ve run 26 marathons, including 5 Boston Marathons, and innumerable shorter-distance races – this was my first-ever DNF.
After the ambulance took me away from you and the others who courageously jumped in to help me, I was rushed to Hamilton General and put into a chemically-induced coma, my body temperature lowered to 33 degrees to preserve brain function and allow for better recovery. By the following Friday, I was in surgery and had a minimally invasive coronary artery bypass to restore unimpeded blood-flow to the front left of my heart. I was discharged on Remembrance Day. I won’t forget how happy I was to be going home.
Next to my family, running and cycling are my life. Running and cycling are what I work to do and love doing. What I learned in Hamilton on November 3rd was about the selflessness, caring and courage of people – individuals like you who recognized I was in serious trouble and took it upon themselves to help try to turn that around. It’s all too easy to adopt a jaded and cynical perspective of human nature. My recovery weeks at home spent watching Jerry Springer, listening to Rob Ford’s defensive and offensive comments, and witnessing the Senate scandal have been tempered by the actions of a handful of people in Hamilton. My belief in the goodness of people is stronger now than ever. I’d like to thank you for that, as well as for helping save my life.
All the best with your swimming and running, and qualifying for Boston!