20 Years After My Heart Attack, I Met My Past Self on the Trail

Frostburg to Confluence |Daily Miles: 47 |Tour Miles: 265

A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step. -- Lao Tzu

The Daily Pulse

It looked like today was going to be a repeat performance of yesterday’s start. As I hooked the panniers to my bike and prepared to roll down the hill to the trailhead, I was greeted by the familiar mist. I set off toward Confluence, my destination for the day. That steady mist turned into a drizzle as I climbed Big Savage Mountain and reached the Eastern Continental Divide. From there, the weather slowly improved, the gray skies hinting at a touch of blue during the downhill pedal to Confluence.

In my opinion, this stretch of the Great Allegheny Passage is the most scenic. The fall colors were at their peak glory heading up Big Savage, though they had just started to fade once I reached the Allegheny Highlands and continued into Confluence.

Some of today’s highlights included the tunnels, especially the Big Savage Tunnel, the longest on the trail, and the impressive Salisbury Viaduct, a long high former railroad trestle that carries the trail over a wide valley circled by wind turbines and filled with railroads, highways, and farms below.

A few years ago, an Amish family settled near the trail around Deal. Even though there are many Amish near my home, I always enjoy stopping to see what produce and homemade goods they have for sale. Today, I left with jars of elderberry and pineapple jam.

I rolled into Confluence with lunch on my mind. Knowing dinner options in town would be limited. I also ordered a turkey sub to go for dinner. It was a good decision, since my host confirmed there would be no dining choices tonight. The B&B has just two other guests this evening, promising a quiet, peaceful night’s rest.

Echoes of the Past

A good part of the day was spent in reflection. This day marks the twentieth anniversary of my heart attack, an event that changed the course of my life. It’s no coincidence that this bike tour falls during that anniversary.

I often return to the GAP in October because I love the cool fall air, the quiet trails, and the brilliant colors of the changing leaves. It’s a time to celebrate a life reclaimed and a chance to look back on where I was twenty years ago and the long winding trail that brought me here.

A solo October tour offers the perfect space for reflection. The rhythm of pedaling, the crunch of leaves under my tires, and the long stretches of solitude invite memories to rise and be relived. Many of the posts I’ve written on this tour have been leading up to today.

This morning, at the Princess Diner in Frostburg, I had one of those moments that felt less like a coincidence and more like something meant to happen. As I paid my bill, I overheard a man behind me telling the cashier that he had just spoken with his cardiologist and had more tests ahead. I hesitated, unsure whether to speak, but turned to him and said that today marked the twentieth anniversary of my own heart attack and surgery.

He asked if I was cycling the trail. When I told him I had started in Washington, D.C., he was astonished but also visibly encouraged. He thanked me for giving him hope seeing someone doing well two decades after such a serious event.

As I stepped outside, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the exchange wasn’t random. It stayed with me as I rode today. I thought back to 2005, lying in a hospital bed, certain I would never see 2025. Yet here I was, alive, living life, and pedaling through the mountains of western Maryland.

What I once feared would be an ending became, instead, a beginning. Every mile I ride is a quiet reminder that recovery isn’t just survival. It’s the drive, momentum, and the choice to live fully.

Scenes along the trail from Frostburg to Confluence

The trail taught me

I am celebrating the 20th anniversary of my heart attack and recovery from the perfect spot, out on the trail. My connection to the outdoors has grown immensely over the last two decades, primarily through cycling, but also through a period of running. I wasn’t a fast runner, but it didn’t matter; running built my confidence and offered the joy of achievement.

​In 2015, I completed four half-marathons, capping off my running days. Those miles, along with hiking, forged new friendships and lasting memories in the outdoors. Today, those friends’ encouragement and shared experiences were right beside me, as we pedaled along the same trail.

​Reflecting on the past can sometimes be a burden, but today, the trail made it feel necessary. It invited me to look back not with regret, but with profound gratitude. Climbing through these mountains and memories, I was struck by the person I’ve become since 2005, better, not perfect, but still moving forward.

​It’s astonishing how often a trail or a bike has been the setting for that transformation. Both have been my teachers, showing me how to live with greater happiness and move with a clear purpose. That truth was never clearer than it was today, echoing through every mile I pedaled over the years.

Life Reflection

It’s amazing how vividly memories from twenty years ago resurfaced as I rode today. I’m grateful for the time on the trail to reflect on how far I’ve come. Too often, I’m hard on myself and forget to appreciate that progress.

Life changes and challenges don’t end twenty years after a heart attack. There are still many to be taken on, and likely many more rides on these trails.

I often wonder where I’d be if that heart attack hadn’t forced a transformation in my life. I suspect I wouldn’t be here at all. That dark time shaped me, not perfect, but better, more grateful, more alive. I’m still a work in progress, but I’m also a person who has learned to embrace life fully.