Silent Signals
READING BETWEEN THE LINES
How I’m Piecing It All Together — One Test, One Day, One Beat at a Time
Over the past few days, life has slowed down — not by choice, but by necessity.
In the span of a single week, I’ve moved from racing at HYROX Toronto to retesting, reflecting, and rebuilding — not just physically, but systematically. For years my focus was on building fitness and chasing podiums. Now it has shifted to something more fundamental:
Building understanding.
After my recent episode, I knew I couldn’t treat this like another setback to “train through.” This felt different — something my body may have been whispering for a long time. So I chose to listen. And in doing that, we’ve placed nearly every piece of the puzzle on the table: ECGs, Holter data, bloodwork, referrals, and a roadmap for what comes next.
This isn’t about jumping to conclusions.
It’s about clarity through careful observation.
CONNECTING THE DOTS — FROM SYMPTOMS TO SIGNALS
What first caught my attention was this: the way I had been feeling in training and racing simply didn’t add up.
I would show up rested, prepared, confident. But the moment intensity began, the engine wouldn’t turn over. It didn’t feel like physical fatigue. My legs weren’t burning. My breathing wasn’t out of control. Instead, there was a hollow, heavy sensation — a quiet ceiling I couldn’t push through.
Even after track races, I’d say to Shauna, “I don’t feel like I pushed hard. My legs aren’t tired. I’m just… not able to go faster.”
It didn’t feel like lack of effort.
It felt like lack of response.
Through recent testing and medical discussions, one hypothesis being explored is chronotropic incompetence — a condition where the heart doesn’t increase its rate quickly or high enough to meet exertional demand, and sometimes briefly overshoots as it tries to catch up.
In simple terms:
My heart rate sits very low (often 30–50 bpm)
It may respond slowly to rising demand
Oxygen delivery may lag behind muscular need
Under stress, that mismatch can show up as weakness, heaviness, or near-collapse
During HYROX Toronto, that mismatch may have reached its limit — not from overexertion, but from an electrical response that couldn’t keep pace with demand.
That’s not a conclusion — it’s a working theory.
And now, we gather the data to find the truth.
WORKING WITH MY DOCTORS — BUILDING A CLEARER PICTURE
This process hasn’t been about self-diagnosis. It’s been about collaboration.
In just a few days, I’ve worked closely with my doctor to line up experience with objective data — pairing how I’ve felt with what the numbers have shown over time. That respectful, methodical approach has helped create a more complete clinical picture.
The next phase includes additional testing, each designed to clarify a different piece of the puzzle:
Blood clot testing — October 9
To rule out vascular contributors to chest discomfortRepeat Holter monitor — October 22
To capture rhythm patterns in daily life and during light activityFollow-up echocardiogram — November 5
To reassess heart structure and functionCardiac MRI — scheduled for July 7, 2026 (requesting earlier if possible)
To detect inflammation, scarring, or structural changes not visible on other imaging
Every test is a step toward clarity. Not a conclusion.
THE CHEST DISCOMFORT — WHAT I’M EXPERIENCING
In the days since Toronto, the chest discomfort has lingered. Not sharp or crushing — but heavy, present, undeniable. Sometimes even at rest.
Based on what we know so far, the possibilities being explored include:
Ongoing low-grade inflammation
Microvascular restriction
Electrical or autonomic imbalance
It’s unsettling, but it’s also informative. Each sensation is another data point. Another clue. This is how progress is made — not by ignoring signs, but by documenting them.
POSSIBLE FUTURE PATHWAYS — GUIDED BY THE TEAM
As information continues to come in, several additional evaluations or discussions may be considered:
Chronotropic competence stress testing
Extended rhythm monitoring / patch testing
Autonomic function evaluation
Potential treatment options if bradycardia + symptoms persist (e.g. rate-responsive pacing)
None of these are decisions yet.
They are simply options — directions — to ensure nothing important is missed.
WHAT THIS JOURNEY IS TEACHING ME
I’ve always believed calm is fast.
Now I’m realizing something else:
Calm is also healing.
Slowing down isn’t weakness.
Curiosity isn’t fear.
Stillness isn’t lost time.
This isn’t a comeback story — not yet.
It’s a “listen closely” story.
A “find the source, not just the symptom” story.
It’s about building trust — in data, in doctors, and in the quiet intelligence of my body.
MOVING FORWARD
Each test is a checkpoint, not a finish line.
The goal isn’t a podium.
It isn’t a split time.
It isn’t a ranking.
The goal is clarity.
The goal is to one day line up again knowing the engine is sound — not just running, but understood.
And if sharing this process helps even one other athlete pause and listen before pushing through… then every word is worth it.
Sometimes the hardest race you’ll ever face
is the one that asks you to stop.