A while ago someone asked about lessons learned and silver linings. I’ve been seeing posts about fear of surgery, outcomes, and its worth. These are good and valid questions. In that regard, although late to answer, I thought the time appropriate to do so.

One major lesson – tomorrow is not guaranteed. Spend your time wisely, you can’t get it back.

I knew I needed to be here for my wife and kids and nothing on earth was as important as that. I decided if they fixed my heart, I’d fix the rest of me. I found out it’s not about deciding to run a marathon tomorrow. It’s not about swimming a mile next time I jump in the pool. It’s about making the commitment to enact change and being dedicated enough to do what I promised. It’s easy to say you will walk every day. BUT – It’s much easier to say it’s too dark, it’s too cold, or it’s raining. Then you learn that anyone can make an excuse. It’s those who are dedicated who commit to make each step happen; those who are steadfast enough to keep each small promise to themselves. You’re not going to run a marathon unless you can run a half marathon and you’re not going to run a half marathon until you can run 10k. If you can’t run 5k you are not running 10, so you better damn well start walking. If you can’t be dedicated enough to walk when you say you’re going to, then the marathon is just a pipe dream.

It’s not comfortable, but no one ever achieved greatness through comfort.

No one cared about my goal of running a 5k. It meant nothing to anyone but me – but that was enough. Some say there’s no reason to change your diet, there’s medication for that. There’s no reason to work out and work harder, you’ll live as long as you are expected to. I say that’s for folks who choose the easy way out. I may die early, but when they’re putting me in the ground, no one will be able to say I didn’t put the effort in. So, I changed everything. It began with changing how I ate and then changing how I exercised. I walked, I ran, and I bicycled. I worked out. I made it so that I rode my bicycle 100 miles, 10 months after I started training. It cost me time with my family and time with friends, but it has given me back much more. I have learned how to be successful and push through discomfort. I’ve been granted the ability to be the uncle to who takes the kids on hikes to see things they never imagined. I paddle them across the lake to places they never witnesses from a power boat, and I spend quality time with my kids, doing things that should require a much younger man.

Change is possible and we can experience the life that’s promised us, but no one is going to hand it to us. You must be smart enough and determined enough to take the opportunity and run with it. You need to commit, and you need to have dedication.

My nurses told me, it’s going to take hard work, commitment, and discipline. It will hurt. It will burn. Sometimes it will be lonely – but it will be worth it. So far, they have been right. I stress over little things less. I look at the big picture more. I smile when I see my wife’s successes and celebrate things that she doesn’t think are important. I laugh over silly games with my kids and look forward to coloring pictures and drawing mermaids with my daughter. I look forward to more adventures and experiences and less toward things. Heather and I draw mermaids while sitting on the front steps, because some things in life are more important than finishing the sheetrock or putting in a new vanity right now.

Two and a half years ago I asked for one more day. I got this. I’ll be damned if I’m going to waste it. If you’re new to this journey, know that you have a choice. For the majority of us there is an option to get better. How far you take that is up to you. Life after OHS can be amazing – and for me it has been. I’ve been hit with challenges, but I’ve fought through them, and each battle has taught me the value of today. You’re a Heart Warrior – you are already amazing. You have an opportunity to be even more spectacular than yesterday.