Running, life saving--it's all in the timing. (Experience Tells Us).

I used to hate running. I'm a health nut, and running three miles is fine, but I hate the real serious stuff. It's that Type A, goal-driven personality that made me attempt a marathon.

I remember the deciding moment. In November of 2000, I was descending Mt. Kilimanjaro (the only mountain I have or ever will climb), when the question arose within the group, "What next?" My head was still at the summit of Kill, and I must have been low on oxygen and not thinking clearly, because I declared that I was going to run a marathon. I don't think I had ever run any distance over five miles, so at the time, running 26.2 sounded tougher than climbing a mountain.

The planning began the moment I got home from Africa. There were plenty of people with opinions about which marathon I should run. For me, there was a clear first choice: the Boston Marathon. My daughter goes to Wellesley College, which is situated at the marathon's halfway point, and I thought there could be nothing better than to run through my daughter's college campus and hear her and her friends cheer me on.

Not long afterward, I learned, to my dismay, that without a previous qualifying time, I couldn't get into that marathon. I tried to enter the New York City Marathon, but that race was entered by lottery, and I lost. So, after hearing great things about the Chicago Marathon, I decided that October seventh, two days after my 45th birthday, would be a great time to run my first marathon.

During the summer months, I trained. Prior to that, I was running only 9 to 12 miles per week, which was not much of a baseline. Well, I had wanted a challenge, and I had a long way to go. I also found it difficult to get away from my clinical and administrative duties during the week in order to go on those evening runs. Often, I'd run around the scenic lakes of Minneapolis at 8 or 9 o'clock at night. This meant that I often finished in the dark and got home for dinner around 10 p.m.

I aspired to run six times per week but, in reality, I could muster, on average, only four times a week. Despite this shortcoming, I dreamed of breaking four hours. Unfortunately, one month before the Chicago Marathon, I got a nagging pain in my left calf that I couldn't quite shake. I began to wonder if I could even run my first marathon.

Finally, October 7th arrived. It was soooo cold in Chicago. My calf still hurt, and all I could think of doing was to wrap an ace bandage around it (my apologies to any orthopedic surgeons, but I'm just a urologist) and take a couple of Motrin.

I couldn't believe there were so many runners. There must have been 30,000 of them. It was exciting to be around so many people who were crazy...just like me. Three minutes after the shot of the starting gun I finally crossed the starting line and began what I had worked so hard for.

Clothes were flying everywhere as people shed their excess layers. I started off at a good pace and really felt that I had a chance to break four hours. But at around mile 13 I realized how badly my calf was huffing, and I felt really, really tired. I probably went out too fast. Everyone tells you not to do that, but, as a surgeon, I had to do it my way. Even though I was still on pace to break four hours, I sensed it was not likely to happen. Somehow, I struggled through the next eight or so miles, growing more and more tired all the while.

Somewhere after mile 22, with my legs feeling like rubber and my entire body exhausted and hurting, I heard a woman shout, "Is there a doctor around?" I came upon a runner, down in the street and in obvious cardiac arrest; my first clue was the sight of a second runner doing cardiac compressions on the victim. The man doing the chest compressions said he was a cardiologist; in a fearful but resolute voice he kept saying, "This is my best friend; I can't let him die."

Unfortunately, no one was doing mouth-to-mouth on the victim, and it was clear that without some oxygen, he was going to die. He began throwing up. It's amazing how all sensation of pain and rubbery legs just went away as I knelt down. I couldn't feel a pulse. I saw someone's hat in the street, and grabbed it to wipe away the emesis. I started doing mouth-to-mouth, timed to the cardiac compressions. After what seemed like forever (but was probably just a few minutes), the man started breathing on his own.

About seven minutes after I came upon the scene, the paramedics arrived. I tried to intubate the man, but I couldn't see his vocal cords because of the emesis. From my E.R. days at Hennepin County Medical Center I recalled that it is better not to intubate at all than to attempt it blindly. Instead, I helped insert an I.V., and the man was taken away.

During all of this I remained calm, had energy, and was pain-free. Unfortunately, as soon as I stood up and started running again, the weariness and pain returned. I continued on my run, and didn't think about the fact that I had just done mouth-to-mouth on someone who was throwing up at the same time. The last few miles were a struggle, but I finished with a time of around 4 hours and 25 minutes. Certainly, 10 to 15 minutes of that was spent doing CPR.

I later called the hospital to find out if the man had made it. I also wanted to learn whether or not he had hepatitis or HIV. I wouldn't have done anything differently, but it's just nice to know. I never found out his name, but I was told he was a pulmonologist with some children and a negative health history. I was also told he probably would make it. That's all I needed to hear.

Apart from close friends and family, I've never really spoken to anybody about this, as I felt no need to discuss it. I simply was pleased to have run my first marathon and, more importantly, to have helped save a life. I hope Co run more marathons, and I pray that everyone around me stays healthy.

It's all in the timing: if I had run faster or a little more slowly, I wouldn't have been there for that gentleman, and he probably wouldn't have made it. I speak about the incident now, and in this forum, because I believe more physicians need to run, wear marathon bibs, and be there for others. Minutes count, not only in a race, but also in situations like cardiac arrest. You never know when you will make a difference.

Dr. John Pryor is a Professor and Chair of Urology at the University of Minnesota. He thinks his daughter will he pleased to watch him run in the 2003 Boston Marathon.

RELATED ARTICLE: Membership Survey Results

In 2000, we asked AMAA members about their training. We're getting ready
to launch another survey to help us better understand who you are and
how we may serve you. However, before we did so, we thought it
worthwhile to revisit the previous survey's results with you.


1. How often do you work out?

This is workouts per week. In our next survey, to give
us a little different granularity, we will break the question
down into two questions: How often do you run? How often
do you do other workouts?

47%    5-6 days per week.
32%    3-4 days per week
12%    7 days per week
 9%    1-2 days per week

2. How many years have you been working out?

Age is a factor here. The question didn't provide us with a way of
taking that into conisderation. For our next survey, we will
frame the question so that you can see how you break out for your
age group.

79%    11 or more years
13%    6-10 years
 8%    4-5 years
 2%    3 or less years

3. How much time do you spend being vigorously active (training
heart rate higher than 70% of maximum) each week?

These are total hours, independent of number of workouts.

35%    4-6 hours
26%    2-3 hours
22%    more than 6 hours
17%    less than 2 hours

4. What activities do you regularly participate in more than 12
times a year?

Respondents could circle more than one, so sum of percentages
is greater than 100.

86%    running/jogging
50%    free weights
45%    weight training
43%    cycling
39%    walking
35%    stationary bike
26%    swimming
21%    golf
14%    stair climbing
13%    cross country ski machine
11%    elliptical trainer
11%    hiking/backpacking

5. What type of exercise equipment do you won?

Respondents could circle more than one response, so sum of
percentages is greater than 100.

45%    free weights
40%    stationary bike
33%    hand weights
27%    other
25%    cross country ski machine
21%    none
19%    weight machines

6. What type of races do you enter?

Respondents could circle more than one.

75%    running
23%    none
15%    triathlons/duathlons

7. If you run races, what distances are your favorites?

Respondents could circle more than one. (Note: for the next survey
we'll add two categories--ultramarathon and half-marathon.)

45%    10K
42%    marathon
35%    5K
 8%    15K