Honestly, I do not remember how old I was at the time, but I will never forget the night my father came into my room with a very “calm but panicked” look on his face. It takes a lot to rattle my cage—and I was rattled.

Let me back up first by saying I come from a very interesting household. We were not fitness buffs or health nuts but we never ate processed food, my mother cooked every day, she also played tennis every day—without fail—Monday through Friday with her friends, I was involved in every sport possible and NEVER sat still, my other siblings not so much but for all intents and purposes we were a very healthy household. There were a few treats here and there in the cabinets but you would be more apt to run into a piece of fruit before you would find something really naughty/yummy in the kitchen. All in all we were in great health, none of us ever getting sick and we were pretty well balanced. Then there was Dad…

My dad was a work-a-holic. Back then, he held a high position at M.I.T.’s Clinical Research Center and I am sure the politics and demands of the job were rough. He had four little mouths to feed with the help of my mother but never seemed to let it phase him. Sweets were a must in his life since his mom grew up in the deep south and was a psycho baker. She could do things with butter that were criminal (if you don’t know about my love for butter all I can say is, OH BOY) and my dad had grown accustomed to that taste. Pound cake was his favorite as was not eating for long periods of time. Bad mix for a sedentary man who spent much of his time in a computer lab. So it’s no surprise it finally caught up to him…

Flash back to my room. My dad is standing in front of me in a full sweat, holding his chest and telling me he had really bad heartburn and could I get him something stronger than Tums. I don’t know about y’alls, but about this time something clicked in my head and it sounded like this:

{Starts off low murmer} Man…dad doesn’t look good. He’s kind of grey.
{Getting a bit louder in my head} Why is he sweating so much?
{Loud enough that I think it could be someone talking to me} Jo—he told you earlier this afternoon he didn’t feel so well and wanted to lie down.
{Full out screaming in head} Holy Toledo! He’s having a heart attack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What happened after this is text book of what NOT to do {yes, it’s a pattern in my life}:

I did not call 911—mistake #1

I put him in my car and drove him to the hospital—mistake #2

Halfway there (in my lame defense, it’s literally 5 min. from my house) my father told me to slow down, I was going to give him a heart attack. BWahahaha! We still laugh about this one!—mistake #3 {we could have been stopped—wasting more time—or worse, got in an accident}

Lastly, I did not park in front of the door to let him out.—mistake #4 {this would have alerted medical staff of the emergency}

You never know when this is going to strike. It is the silent killer that most of just do not acknowledge enough. We act as if it cannot happen to us and we are infallible. We fool ourselves into thinking we are healthy because we may eat right and exercise occasionally or we may not be overweight so we’re not at risk.

My dad was fine even though he had a major heart attack. He was lucky. He had a quadruple (yep, 4) bypass performed and made it through with flying colors. That was about 15 years or so ago. Most are not that lucky. What’s worse, if you are a woman and reading this, you are even more at risk because you almost NEVER think it can happen to you. We seem to think this is a man’s disease. On the contrary!

• heart disease kills about 1 woman every minute, or approximately 450,000 women each year
• more women die of heart disease than the next five causes of death combined, including all forms of cancer
• 90% of women have one or more risk factors for developing heart disease
• 80% of cardiac events in women may be prevented by making the right choices involving diet, exercise and abstinence from smoking

Some of my dearest friends from high school smoke and are sedentary. I’m specifically talking to you ladies here. Pay attention to your health. Love yourselves and your children enough to reduce your risk factors (i.e. smoking) and get moving. If you are a blogger reading this, spread the word, too. On February 12th it’s blog your heart out day. Let’s get the word out that this is real.

This is week 1 of a Better U: Goal setting. Get in, confess and become accountable. If you check it out, it’s great for getting started so you have no excuse. Let me know how you do on this…I am anxious to know. For me, my goal at week 1 is to challenge myself above my normal workouts. I’m using my Fitbook to track my workouts again and I’m kicking my own arse.{interpret that as ‘sore, cranky, hungry all the time’} Time to shoot for a higher level again. This is a big deal for me because I have sooooooooooo much going on {who doesn’t? clearly time to get over myself}. But alas, what’s life without a challenge?

WOOP WOOP!

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