I walk because I care deeply about people. I’m a “fixer” by nature—I want to help, to reach as many people as I can, and to share lifesaving information with the people I love and the community I serve.
Heart disease and stroke are personal for me. There is a strong history of both in my family, which has made this mission even more meaningful. Over time, it’s become something I’ve been able to share with my family, and that has been incredibly special. My dad was actually the first person to join my team.
After carrying mail for 37 years, he retired in 2019—but old habits die hard. Even in retirement, he continued walking about 10 miles a day. He is one of the healthiest and most active people I know, which is why what happened next was so unexpected.
As of March 29th, my “why” hit closer to home.
My dad had a heart attack caused by a complete blockage in one of the arteries of his heart. In the days leading up to it, he mentioned not feeling quite right—fatigued and unable to tolerate his usual level of activity. His symptoms were mild and atypical, but I knew something wasn’t right. He reported having heartburn, which he took Tums for, and it only lasted about an hour—something very unusual for him, as he never takes Tums. He also mentioned an ache between his shoulders and said it felt like if he could “pop” his back, he would feel better. At one point, he had an unusual belch that brought mild, short-lived relief. Alone, these symptoms may not have seemed alarming, but together—and knowing my dad’s baseline health, along with his risk factors of high cholesterol and a family history of heart attach—I was concerned. This experience was a powerful reminder that heart attack symptoms aren’t always obvious, and listening to your body and speaking up when something feels off can truly save your life.
That Sunday, the man who has always taken care of our family let us take care of him.
Even in the ER, his symptoms didn’t present the way you might expect. Initial cardiac testing was inconclusive, but because he couldn’t maintain his normal activity level, the care team trusted that something was off. He was admitted, and later taken to the cardiac cath lab, where they found and treated the blockage.
The outcome could have been very different.
Thankfully, he was discharged the next day and is already feeling much better. True to who he is, he’s back to walking—taking it easy for now at about 4 miles a day. And in true fashion, he’s already looking forward to participating in the Heart Walk in May- not only as a participant, but aslo, survivor!
This experience reinforced exactly why I walk.
I walk to raise awareness—because symptoms aren’t always obvious. I walk to advocate—because listening to your body matters. And I walk to help prevent stories like this from ending differently.
Because this mission isn’t just important—it’s personal.
Heart disease and stroke are personal for me. There is a strong history of both in my family, which has made this mission even more meaningful. Over time, it’s become something I’ve been able to share with my family, and that has been incredibly special. My dad was actually the first person to join my team.
After carrying mail for 37 years, he retired in 2019—but old habits die hard. Even in retirement, he continued walking about 10 miles a day. He is one of the healthiest and most active people I know, which is why what happened next was so unexpected.
As of March 29th, my “why” hit closer to home.
My dad had a heart attack caused by a complete blockage in one of the arteries of his heart. In the days leading up to it, he mentioned not feeling quite right—fatigued and unable to tolerate his usual level of activity. His symptoms were mild and atypical, but I knew something wasn’t right. He reported having heartburn, which he took Tums for, and it only lasted about an hour—something very unusual for him, as he never takes Tums. He also mentioned an ache between his shoulders and said it felt like if he could “pop” his back, he would feel better. At one point, he had an unusual belch that brought mild, short-lived relief. Alone, these symptoms may not have seemed alarming, but together—and knowing my dad’s baseline health, along with his risk factors of high cholesterol and a family history of heart attach—I was concerned. This experience was a powerful reminder that heart attack symptoms aren’t always obvious, and listening to your body and speaking up when something feels off can truly save your life.
That Sunday, the man who has always taken care of our family let us take care of him.
Even in the ER, his symptoms didn’t present the way you might expect. Initial cardiac testing was inconclusive, but because he couldn’t maintain his normal activity level, the care team trusted that something was off. He was admitted, and later taken to the cardiac cath lab, where they found and treated the blockage.
The outcome could have been very different.
Thankfully, he was discharged the next day and is already feeling much better. True to who he is, he’s back to walking—taking it easy for now at about 4 miles a day. And in true fashion, he’s already looking forward to participating in the Heart Walk in May- not only as a participant, but aslo, survivor!
This experience reinforced exactly why I walk.
I walk to raise awareness—because symptoms aren’t always obvious. I walk to advocate—because listening to your body matters. And I walk to help prevent stories like this from ending differently.
Because this mission isn’t just important—it’s personal.