Seven months ago this weekend, I had a stroke. My Swimrun partner and I had less than 500 m left of a 42 km course. Even to this day it stings to think about that DNF. At the time of the stroke I remember being disappointed that I could not finish the race. I remember thinking that my partner would be mad or disappointed as well, that I couldn’t hold up my end of the race. Thoughts racing through my mind as I come to a stop and have to sit down and have a race volunteer radio for an ambulance; did I eat too little, did I not drink enough. I was around 108 kg on race day, not something that I was truly aware of, even if I did see it, and everyone around me knew. I know that my weight made the day tougher, but I am not sure it was the cause of my stroke.
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