This past August the 21,  I was competing in my last and number 15 Ironman. This event was held  in Coeur D'Alene ( Idaho).
 For those of you who are unfamiliar with this sport, it is a triathlon that includes 2.4 miles swimming, 112 miles biking and a 26.2 miles run. Usually  the starting time is  7 am and it ends at  midnight.
The day before, on the 20th, my office manager in Houston called to ask if I'd mind being interviewed by one of the local TV channels in Coeur D'Alene.
 It was a surprise. Here I was far away from home where I assumed no one knew me, being asked for a TV interview!
Before long I was in front of the camera answering questions.
My seniority was what prompted the inquiry.  At the age of seventy six  I was  the oldest participant. The day before they had interviewed the youngest participant  who was only eighteen.

Later  that day ( Saturday the 20th)  as  my wife and I  were strolling around town  we  began  to notice  that some  people were nodding their heads and smiling, while others volunteered words of encouragements and appreciations. All of which made me feel good about my ephemeral celebrity.

During the flight back to Houston my memories took me back to the early eighties and how it all started.
 Back in July  1983 I had just started my practice as a plastic surgeon for about one year.
I was very busy building a reputation,  going from one ER ( emergency room)  to another, taking care of  facial and hands injuries,  in addition to whatever  elective cosmetic surgery a young , little known, plastic surgeon can get.
My daily routine back then,  after finishing my work, was to  head   back home, eat dinner, smoke a pipe and watch any sport event before  going  to bed.
The routine was interrupted one day. I had applied for a life insurance policy that required a complete physical examination, extensive lab work and a stress test. All of them turned out to be satisfactory for the insurance policy but not to me. The reason is that I knew  my  father died from heart attack at the age of seventy.   He went to sleep one day and did not wake up. My mother said that earlier that day he complained of heart burn following a heavy meal. Prior to his death and for years he was treated off and on for high blood pressure.
My physical exam revealed elevated diastolic blood pressure 125 over 86. We call the high number "systolic" meaning when the heart is contracting and the lower number "diastolic" it measures the pressure when the heart is resting. What concerned me is the lower number; It is close to" ninety" and by definition it means high blood pressure.
The  heart contracts to push  the blood into the arterial vascular system. The more resistance it faces the higher the blood pressure would be.
Some of the increased resistance is due to loss of softness  of the arterial tree, often due to what we call atherosclerosis ( hardening of the arteries).
At the time my  cardiologist  was not concerned about it at all. To him it is what he sees every day as normal. Yet, seeing my worry, he suggested he would put me on medication if I wanted but recommended   to start working out. I had no desire to be on medication that is why I preferred the later.

Even before my consult a  warning symptom was already manifest,   that I could not keep my legs crossed other than  for a short time before the crossed leg  goes painfully  numb. That meant that the artery behind my knee was not flexible or pliable ,  and the pressure from the weight of my leg compressed it reducing the flow of blood down  my leg.
My journey, to the triathlons and the Iron man competition,  began  with  walking around the neighborhood while my ten years old son followed  me  on his bike. It felt very good spending quality time with  him.

That was a modest beginning for a lifelong never ending  journey of learning , experimenting and  self discovery.  It transformed me from a coach potatoe to an athlete ranked third in the world in my age group.
I am fully conscious that my  unique knowledge and expertise can be useful and helpful for many. I share it with colleagues, patients, Rotarians and hospital staff.
Recently my daughter and her husband pressed me to  start a blog telling my story and share what I learned.
Not being a digital person this  medium of communication is intimidating.
 I prefer public speaking or direct person to person exchange.
 Yet  I am willing  to try. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote and I am paraphrasing " If you only  helped one person breath better you have succeeded in life".
 In the next few days I  will share with you what I learned and what worked for me.

A.K.F