I have been reticent to share something that I’ve been dealing with as I just figured it would go away….but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Even though I have written about some of the ups and downs in my life, I usually write about them after the fact…once I know everything will be ok. This is a bit different as I am currently in the midst of this trial with no clear answer at the moment. Faith alone is getting me through this. Even as I write this at 3:30 in the morning, I am not sure I’ll even publicly post it until this is resolved.

Over the summer I experienced an extreme drop in my heart rate and was short of breath when walking distances or climbing stairs. This was during a time when I was trying to lose weight while adhering to a low carb diet. Perspiring and working in the extreme summer heat it was easy to dismiss this change in heart rate as dehydration and electrolyte depletion. A few bottles of Gatorade and a couple days later, I was like new again. Lightheadedness and trying to catch my breath were barely a memory from the dog days of summer.
Weeks passed and we were vacationing in Costa Rica, enjoying the exotic sounds of the jungle, when out of the blue the symptoms from a month earlier returned. After one flight of stairs and trying to catch my breath, I pressed my index finger into the sensor of the heart rate monitor on my phone, thirty seconds later it revealed that my heart rate had indeed plummeted again. I immediately thought, it must be the heat again. So I began to drink fresh coconut water and Gatorade filled with electrolytes and expected everything to bounce back. No such luck. We continued to enjoy our vacation, though I was cautious in my activities.

As we journeyed for almost a week with canceled and delayed flights as hurricane Matthew pounded up the East Coast, we were safe and sound staying in cozy airbnbs, and not so cozy sleeping on freezing cold airport floors, running to catch rescheduled flights… you name it, it was quite the adventure returning home. Meanwhile, I was still dealing with this unexplainable low heart rate. I had no pain or tightness in my chest, no numbness, tingling or any symptoms other than getting winded running through the airport. But, hey that’s happens to me anytime I have ever had to run through the airport.
So after the dust had settled of getting back home and letting out a sigh of relief that even though our little slice of paradise had taken a beating, we still had a home to return to. Other than three family portraits that were cancelled due to the family’s vacations being cancelled, I kept my work schedule as I photographed two full weddings and two vow renewals within five days of returning home.

I was still getting abnormally low heart rate readings when I would check my blood pressure vitals several times a day. Reading at 34 bmp, less than half of what normal should be. It was time to seek professional help and get to the bottom of this.

Earlier this week, Sean drove me into the Southern Urgent Care facility on Whitemarsh Island. I figured a quick blood test, they would see what I am lacking, give me the fix and be on my way. Oh, how far from the truth that would be. The next thing I know, I’m lying on the table naked from the waist up with round stickers and wires connected to me from head to toe as the doctor ordered an in office EKG. One quick read of the results and they had me out the door and headed to Savannah to meet with a cardiologist that they made the appointment for me. An hour later I was rushed to the front of the line in a waiting room filled shoulder to shoulder with older grey haired cardiac patients. Within minutes, I was again hooked up from head to toe with wires and machines surrounded by a very concerned doctor and two nurses all shaking their heads in disbelief of my barely existent “impressive” pulse. They were all asking me how I felt and what other symptoms did I have. My answer was always the same. “None. Just don’t ask me to climb stairs” but they did make me walk on a treadmill, only to have my heart rate not increase. They ordered blood work and made an appointment for me to consult with another cardiologist specialist about getting a pacemaker installed.

What are you talking about?? A pacemaker? That can’t be. I’m only 46. If having a low heart rate didn’t make me dizzy, telling me that I would possibly be having surgery to install a pacemaker was about to make me throw up and pass out. The Dr also ordered an echocardiogram (recording a detailed sonogram video of my heart) which also did not reveal anything abnormal.
My blood work came back the next day showing everything normal, except only a lowered number in my thyroid. The nurse called and said that the Dr was consulting with an internist and said that a thyroid condition can cause a lowered heart rate. They immediately called in a thyroid medication to the pharmacy, although the next morning, I received a call from the dr himself telling me to not take the medication. He has continued to consult with other physicians that specialize in this area of thyroid that is outside of hs expertise.
They suggested doing further blood tests showing a full thyroid panel as well as referring me to an endocrinologist to help assist in my diagnosis. Continuing to keep the pacemaker appointment on the books in the event that I cannot be treated with medicine, it may still require a pacemaker to get my heart back to normal.
So now I wait until Tuesday’s endocrinologist appointment as daily I hope that miraculously I will wake up and have my heart rate jump back to normal… just like it did this summer.

Yesterday was February 1st, for me that was like my January 1st in terms of a New Year’s fitness resolution. I really did intend to be more active and planned to log in several miles on bikes, kayaks and long walks when we were in Key West. The weather did not cooperate with my good intentions. I am guilty and the first to admit, that the first thing I turn to for comfort, is food in any form. Mostly snacks, and sweets, but no limits on quantity. Combined with very little activity and no self control, somehow once again, my pants have shrunk.

Finishing off month One with week long birthday celebrations and I finally reached a point where enough is enough. It’s time to get serious. Beach days are coming soon, and I am in no way physically ready for them. Mentally, yes…I’m ready to squish my toes into the sand and today.

I finally calibrated and synced my new Garmin Vivofit fitness tracker and dug out my workout clothes from the bottom of my drawers. Last year, they were always on the top, because I practically lived in them.

Sean is ready for a new fitness commitment too. So we laced up our sneakers together and hit the beach for day one of getting physical fitness started in 2016.

Whenever I step onto the beach after a long absence from it, I say to myself, “How can you not be out here everyday?”

There was a light breeze blowing in from the sea that brought with it salt air to greet me with a kiss, quickly reminding me just one of the reasons we moved here.

Walking on the beach provides a different workout than walking on the sidewalk. For a while we chose the soft uneven sand for a little more strenuous hike. We said to each other how walking in the deep soft sand in shoes instead of bare feet felt as close to walking in inches of snow as we want to feel. After a while I had to stop and dump the mounting sand out of my shoes.

Snapshots quickly flash to the front of my brain. Only months ago this same beach was packed with thousands of tourists. Moms and dads that plan and save every penny all year long to claim a little square patch of oceanfront property for a week. Today the beach was not totally empty, as a few families were out beachcombing. Passing an occasional fully clothed child, running in circles or building a sand castle.  Definitely a far cry from the crowd’s that gather during the summer. It’s a shame more people don’t take advantage of the great deals that are available during the winter season.

We passed a surfer, covered head to toe in a black wet suit. He owned every wave that came to him.

For the next mile, we traveled just below the high tide line where the packed sand beneath our soles provided a more stable surface to walk on. We walked under the pier and down to the south end where the Back River flows into the Atlantic Ocean. We stayed on the sand as far as we could, till we reached Alley Three. This is where we come to watch the sunset on countless evenings throughout the year.

The beach stops at Alley Three and we turn right onto the hard blacktop pavement. Continuing around Chatham Avenue that hugs the Back River till we reach the marsh. Every few steps, the tall palms reaching to the clouds frame a picturesque scene. The silent shutter in my head snaps away and my imagination paints canvases with the details of a snow white egret flying low over the brown winter marsh grass.

Soon we are back in the little strip of the Back River neighborhood with rows of cottages and beach houses on either side of us. We stop and talk to Bill, who is walking his dog. We enjoy talking to Bill and his wife Dorothy, every year as they come to Tybee, annual snowbirds escaping the brutal Michigan winters. They are smart people, just saying.

Before ending our walk we go a few blocks north so we can stop at the IGA to gather salad fixins for a healthy lunch. Entering the parking lot from the back of the store, we run into Matt, the butcher. Matt always has a smile on his face and a kind word to welcome us.

After paying for my selection of fresh veggies, we headed back to 14th street, our little piece of paradise. A car pulls up beside us. It’s my friend Diane, who owns a vacation rental company here, called Mermaid Cottages. (If you plan to visit Tybee, you really need to check out these adorable family and pet friendly cottages.) She rolled down her window to tell me that Sean and I looked like a picture of ultimate Tybee living. Walking with the love of my life in one hand and a sack of groceries in the other. The sun continued to shine down on a most glorious day. We made our last turn to complete our circuit, looking at my tracker I see that we reached 3 miles. Not too bad for day one.

Up the stairs to our little bare bones 750 square foot apartment, Sean and I give high fives and say to each other, “another day that doesn’t suck to be us!”

A few years ago I read a life changing book. It was called “The Art of Non-Conformity” by Chris Guillebeau. At the time I started reading his writings he was in the midst of a quest to visit every country in the world before he turned 35. I was intrigued by his perspective and adopted it into my own philosophy on living life. I accepted the challenge to not accept living life the way everybody does it. After that time, things came much easier for me. I was no longer spending my days living up to other’s expectations, but I could set my own path, make my own choices, and achieve goals that have a value scale to me personally.

A handful of years have passed since then and Guillebeau has reached his goal of visiting all 193 countries in the world, and he has written a couple more books. Most recent is “The Happiness of Pursuit” which includes the stories several people who have been on some sort of “quest” in their lives. Something that drove them to live their life to the beat of their own drum. Making what we would call goals into something bigger. More of a life achievement. Not something that is within easy reach, but something they really had to stretch for.

Guillebeau explains the difference in a goal and a quest. Most notably that a quest could take your whole life to complete. I am a very goal oriented person. I like personal challenges that really help me to excel and not become stagnant in my life. It’s kind of ironic because I am not a competitive person at all, just with myself. I guess it’s just a personal thing.

Over the past couple weeks I have been reading his book. (It’s not a hard or long read, I’ve just been so busy with business and life that I have only been reading it 10-15 minutes a day.) During this time, I was presented with an invitation… Which doubles as the most physically challenging opportunity I’ve ever been asked to participate in… a 16 day trek to and from Mt Everest base camp.

I expressed my interest to gather the information as the team was counting the costs, both physically and financially. I spent the past seven nights reading and researching what is to be expected. After some debate about which company to trek with, what time of year to go, as well as what YEAR to go. The team has decided that we will trek to Mt Everest base camp in spring 2017. Part of the training for Mt Everest, Nepal, will include a 3.5 day hike to Mt Rainier, Washington in September 2016. Which will require being in the most physically fit state I’ve ever been in.

One year ago this month, I got more serious about my personal fitness. I have lost 20 pounds in the past 12 months through proper nutrition, strength and cardio training. Up until last year. I always enjoyed strength training, but never cardio, I really couldn’t stand it and hated to sweat. But now I can actually say I  enjoy it. Somewhere, I turned a corner or flipped a switch. Over the past year I have had weeks with great success and some weeks when fitness did not take top priority. With this new goal, a goal that is bigger than just fitting into a smaller size jeans, I am excited to have something to work towards that is an extremely challenging yet one that I believe is achievable and measurable.

I will be keeping a training journal and probably post it weekly somewhere on this blog. Many times I keep my goals privately to myself and share them once I know I can reach them. But this one…I feel the need to post public and keep the prize in sight daily.

I will be starting a few side projects to fund my trips, so keep your eyes open in a couple of weeks for new line of  Wen McNally Art products to be released in time for Christmas 2015.