A Public Service Announcement

TL;DR: If you are 50 or older, male or female, get a Cardiac CT Calcium Score Test done. This is a 5-minute non-invasive screening test for evaluating the probability and potential extent of plaque in your heart vessels. Plaque can cause heart attacks. If you are under 50 but have potential risk factors for calcification or cardiovascular disease, you should also consider it.

As some of you may know, on July 23, I competed/participated in Ironman Lake Placid. It was the first “Iron Distance” event I had done after an 11-year hiatus from triathlons. On July 26, I did a Cardiac CT Calcium Score test which is a screening test for potential calcification in your coronary arteries. Following the recommendation of my internist and another doctor, I did it solely as a “why not” test. While I had no history of high cholesterol or familial issues of high lipids, the test takes 5 minutes, is non-invasive, and costs only about $90 out of pocket (some insurers do cover the test). A result showing the absence of calcification for someone in their 50s and 60s provides some peace of mind as far as the probability of the absence of coronary artery disease. $90 seemed like a good investment for peace of mind. So, why not? A “score” of 0 is desirable.

My score came back over 2000.

Yikes!

This precipitated immediately being placed on a statin by the internist who had recommended the test. Some additional tests and a visit to a cardiologist focused on cardiovascular disease. An increase in the statin dosage by the cardiologist. A referral to an interventional cardiologist. A consultation with the interventional cardiologist who then scheduled a catheterization. Six weeks and one day after I completed my 2.4-mile swim and 112-mile bike, I had two stents inserted in two smaller arteries in my heart.

During a catheterization, an interventional cardiologist will do an angioplasty and insert stents if an artery has a 70% or greater narrowing. I had two arteries in this condition. The two narrowed arteries had not caused any symptoms to date. I had trained for and completed two-thirds of an Ironman. I had missed the bike-to-run cut-off, but that is a story for another day. Short digression: the missed cut-off resulted from my being slow – I can’t blame some physical ailment. Before this year’s Ironman training, I had done CrossFit or similar functional fitness training for approximately 10 years. The last 7 years of CrossFit were typically 4 to 5 days per week usually 60 minutes or so in duration with some other activity such as yoga on another day. Prior to that, I had done 12 years of triathlon, including completing two Ironman races and multiple half-iron events. I hiked, I snowshoed, I cross-country skied, and outside of the office, I was generally active.

For my entire life, my total cholesterol has ranged between 170 and 210, typically staying in the 180-195 range. My HDL and triglycerides always stayed in optimal ranges, with HDL always exceeding triglycerides by a 2:1 basis. LDL bounced around between 80 and 110, once hitting 120. Never higher. Glucose numbers are always good and in range. No sign of metabolic disease or otherwise in bloodwork.

I ate a relatively clean omnivore diet – although probably too much red meat. Actually, definitely too much red meat, at least in the period 2005-2015. Minimal processed food. Stayed away from added sugars. I have not had a sugary soft drink in probably over 15 years (not including Olipop). I take a fistful of supplements every day including Omega 3s, Vitamin D, magnesium, zinc, curcumin, CoQ10, and quercetin, among others to limit inflammation in the body. For the last 18 months, I dry sauna 3 to 5 times per week at 175 degrees or higher for 20 minutes a session. I cold plunge multiple times per week.

To my knowledge, no genetic factors indicated that I was at risk for cardiovascular disease.

This is not to say everything was perfect. I did have hypertension due to an overactive adrenal gland, which produced too much aldosterone (a hormone central to the regulation of blood pressure). I had this for 20 years, but this was resolved through surgery in 2022 (also a discussion from another day). I have been overweight. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. But this has also been heading in the right direction for the last several years.

All of this represents a long-winded way of saying, I thought I had limited my risk for ASCVD and otherwise had my health dialed in. NOT! The CT Calcium Test only alerted me to the high probability that I had calcification in my coronary arteries, from which bad things can and will occur if left untreated. From there, I had to follow my instincts and chase down an answer. Be aware, this is not easy in our medical system. Over the course of the 6 weeks I sought an answer, I was denied appointments; told that I did not need certain appointments; or given appointments 2 to 3 months in the future. Told that my insurance company may not cover a certain test unless I did another test first. The takeaway from this is that you need to be your own health advocate. No one else will take on that role for you. Thankfully, through persistence and getting in contact with the right people, I connected with great caregivers who worked within the system to find the answers and get me the necessary treatment before anything adverse occurred. I do not think about the outcome had I been passive.

Where does this leave me? As my cardiologist told me: take my medicine (i.e., statin) and exercise as hard or harder than I did before. Meanwhile, eat more plants. And live my life. All good advice for anyone.

So, I am eating more plants and getting back in the swing of my training regimen. Many hills remain to be conquered. And I have an appointment with a Bike to Run cut-off that I need to make in the future. But there will be a next time.

To anyone who has read this far, do not think that you are immune from cardiovascular disease. You can think you are doing everything correctly. Or at least pretty much correct (the old 80/20 rule), where I thought I had existed. For whatever reason, that may not be the case. So, take this as a public service announcement. Spend the $90. Take the 5 minutes. Get a CT Calcium Score done if you have not. Trust me. It’s worth it.

Peace.

Next Man Up…

What dies does not vanish. It is here in the world, transformed, dissolved, as parts of the world, and of you. Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, Book 8, Verse 18 (Hays translation).

I have been meaning to write this for a couple weeks. About one week ago was my birthday. The week before that was my mother’s birthday, the first since her passing in September. I thought about the meaning of that for a while. I am also always fairly pensive around my birthday. Perhaps that is not too unusual as people tend to take stock of where they are around milestones. Birthdays, Anniversaries, New Year’s Day.

What does it mean?

It is one thing to lose a grandparent. Fortunately, I did not lose a grandparent until I was 17. I lost my next one at 28. 40 when I lost my third grandparent. Amazingly, 54 when I lost my last grandparent. Death has been kind to my family.

A ripe old age has seemed a foregone conclusion…not even taking into account all the gyrations I go through to advance my own health and longevity. None of my grandparents were particularly fastidious when it came to lifestyle or diet. In fact, my last grandparent to die smoked for probably 60 or 70 years. I think she only quit smoking because she got tired of it.

Genetics seemed to be in my favor.

Till something shook that complacency.

Part of dealing with the loss of a parent is the recognition that you are never going to speak or see that person again. You miss their presence. Their embrace. The echo of their voice in your ear. I knew that I could not call her and wish her a happy birthday. And that she would not be calling me. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not the day after.

Finality. It is often hard to accept. A test. A game. A life. It happens. There is no calling time out. Time is inexorable. You move on.

I realized quite quickly, however, that the guardrails had been removed. The game changed. I am the next man up. A recognition that does not occur with the passing of anyone other than a parent.

I know that lives and their relative length have no apparent order. It is not definite that a mother dies before a child, but once it occurs, it is etched in stone.

“Give yourself the gift of the present moment” Meditations 8:44.

Life is finite. An immutable fact. I exist in this time. I am time.

I have this second. This minute. I am only assured of that. Nothing more. I should live it fully.

I have enjoyed past moments, but they are gone. Now, I have this one. I will savor and enjoy it.

“I cannot escape death but at least I can escape fear of it.” Epictetus (from Daily Stoic Today, February 17, 2022).

I will live it… I am the next man up.

Ignore the Leaf Blowers

I sketched out these thoughts about six weeks ago, on a beautiful fall sunny day in New Jersey.

Surrounded by falling leaves in my Zen Grotto. Leaves peacefully falling to the ground around me. The ground was covered that day like the first snowfall we would soon have. Ankle deep in some places.

The quiet of the leaves falling through space was soon penetrated by a leaf blower in a neighboring yard. Actually, an army of leaf blowers. An ironic counterpoint to the peacefulness of the falling leaves. The suburban homeowner’s weapon of mass destruction against the falling leaves and the end of summer. Leaves which had just died after fulfilling their life’s mission of providing oxygen.

When I sit in my my grotto and journal, the exercise typically begins as a compilation of what I see around me. An approach that typically makes me be present and opens my mind. This might be the one time in a day that I stop. I look. I listen to the natural world. A world unrelated to a brick attached to my ear.

I can hear birds chirping. Watch the birds and squirrels coexist. See the leaves die their natural death.

This particular day the noise rang out and smacked me. The blasts of the leaf blower entered my consciousness as an image for the noise in my daily existence. Noise which I must continually navigate in and through. Some days worse than others. Leaf blowers appear and disappear outside of my control. Each are obstacles that I need to pierce through to see, hear, and feel what is going on. To be present. Mindful.

The distraction of the noise, of the leaf blower, is just that. Distraction. A distraction to be ignored. Allowed to wash over me and permit a focus on the here and now. The important. As opposed to the trivial.

Transcending the metaphor, the individual making the most noise is to be ignored. We need to ignore the leaf blowers in our lives. In our politics. The leaf blowers spew noise but do not affect the beauty and existence in front of us if we push them to a mere passing sound in our consciousness. Instead, focusing on the quiet beauty around us, enveloping us. The dying leaf falling to the ground. The wind lightly blowing. The distant, soft sound of the chirping cardinal

Focus on the silent. The white space between the noise. The leaf blowers will always be ready to barge in if we let them. If we let them affect us. But why?

So it’s been a while…

Beginning a few minutes after my last (first) blog post, I have been trying to write my next (second) blog post. Many starts but until now an equal number of stops. I have come up with a bunch of topics and ideas I want to share but I have made perfect the enemy of the good. That has effectively paralyzed me. I have forgotten most of these ideas.

No more. I am going to make this blog more of an experiment. I will bring it in line with how I typically conduct my life. I am usually willing to try things. Experiment. Be an early adopter. Along the lines of something I wrote in my first entry, I am open for growth. Rarely, if ever, do I consider something a failure. If I am dissatisfied with a result, I try to dissect the process to see why the result differed from expectation. This usually involves a fair amount of honesty with myself. It also might require a few iterations of introspection. I need to better apply that ideal to the writing process and this blog.

Move on quickly. Learn but don’t dwell.

I will try to put things out there more often. That was my whole intent in doing this exercise. Future posts may be imperfect or not fully evolved. So what. They will be out there for feedback and reactions. I will learn and move on. The blog will continue to evolve hopefully.

I think one of the biggest issues with people playing “in the second half” is that individuals become increasingly less willing to take chances. To put themselves out there. They stop experimenting. This sclerosis may occur gradually over time but eventually they get to a point where the inertia to stay on the same glide path becomes too much to overcome. It is almost paralyzing. They didn’t realize it while it was happening.

What’s the point? Are you just trying to run out the clock? Why? Makes no sense. To me this is the time to experiment even more than earlier in life.

Write the blog post. Throw it out there. Take the chance. Challenge myself. Revisit what I eat and drink. When I eat and when I chose not to. How I spend my time. Assess my activity level. Try a new movement. Expand my consciousness. Learn.