By Henry McElreath

I love running; have for years. What better way to stay trim and healthy, be outdoors, feel the power and freedom of self-induced, self-propelled motion. All those benefits – and that’s just when I was running for myself. However, running took on a more profound meaning when I started running for my sister.

In July 2003, at 39 years old, my sister Valerie was diagnosed with total renal failure. After the diagnosis, she immediately began dialysis to keep her alive. That meant being at a clinic three days a week, four hours at a time.

After four months, Valerie was able to convert to nocturnal home dialysis. There were pros and cons. Al-though the clinic visits were no longer required, she had to be on the dialysis machine for 10 to 12 hours while she slept. She had to be home every night by 9 o’clock to allow the dialysis machine enough time to properly clean her blood. It was difficult for her to travel or visit people – not even for one night – because she had to undergo treatment at home.

As the dialysis improved her health to the point of being able to withstand surgery, Valerie was placed on the kidney donor waiting list – potentially a five-year wait, she was told. Fortunately, after both my brother and I underwent extensive testing, we learned that I was a match and potential donor for Valerie, shortening the five-year estimate.

However, it was not just a matter of hopping up on the table while a surgeon pulled out his instruments. Instead, further testing was needed to confirm I was healthy enough to be a kidney donor. That’s where running came in. I knew running would take me where I needed to go, health wise. My on-again, off-again running regime was now full time. Having moved to Austin, Texas, in February 2004 with a renewed desire for fitness, passion for the sport and a need to be fit, I was led to Runtex and Gilbert’s Gazelles training group. With Gilbert Tuhabonye as my coach, I began serious training – both to be a kidney donor and to run in the Marine Corps Marathon (MCM).

The motivation to rise at 5 a.m. came easy. It’s what I had to do, not just for myself but also for Valerie. As I ran, I would think about her hooked up to the dialysis machine. I could free her if I just kept running.

The Gazelle group was also a great motivator – always having someone to run with and a coach to guide me increased my abilities beyond what I expected. I had been a solo runner for years. Now, running with a group, doing speed work and hill work, and stretching to avoid injury, were all new and very effective. That July, the doctors were finally happy with my test results and decided to proceed with surgery.

The surgeries took place at Baltimore’s Johns Hopkins Hospital on Aug. 17. My operation lasted five hours, Valerie’s seven. I was up and walking the next day – sore, but up and walking. I left the hospital five days later and Valerie stayed another four.

For six weeks, heavy lifting and running were prohibited. The timing wasn’t ideal. The MCM was in Washington, D.C., on Oct. 31. I returned to Austin, Texas on Sept. 28, after six weeks of recovery and barely a month before the MCM, with hopes of participating and finishing. Gilbert, knowing not only what it takes to prepare for a marathon but also the stress it puts on the body, was reluctant. However, he also understood my desire, drive and need to run, so he agreed to continue training. Realistically, we examined my choices – do not run the race at all, or run a long, slow one. We opted for the latter. I hadn’t run in six weeks. Getting ready to run 26.2 miles, all in one shot, would be difficult.

Gilbert was not my only coach and supporter through those four weeks. Several other Gazelles encouraged and supported me as well. In addition, the inspiration gained from the encouragement of running partners was immeasurable. With two “long” runs of 13 miles each, I headed for the MCM.

During the race, I missed my kidney, or at least was aware of its absence. Running caused pain in my abdomen as the remaining organs settled into the newly created void. However, after a mile or two, the pain began to subside, and eventually it went away all together. My goal was to finish, and I did it – in 4 hours, 54 minutes and 52 seconds.

I ran the marathon to prove something, but not just for myself. The fact is, there is a great need for donated organs – more than 60,000 people currently are on the waiting list for a kidney, and not all of them are fortunate enough to have a family member who is able and willing to donate. You can offer renewed health and freedom to a friend, a loved one, or even someone you do not know yet. Donating a kidney is not a decision to be made lightly, but it’s also not a decision that has to dramatically and negatively affect your life. That’s what my experience shows. That is the realization that can offer hope to someone seeking an organ.

How is Valerie doing? She stayed in Baltimore for two months after leaving the hospital, doing follow up with her doctors. Finally, in late September, she returned home to Georgia. Her new kidney is functioning perfectly, and she has slowly returned to a normal life. She is back at work full time, walks every night and stays out past 9 p.m. when she wants. And me? I am grateful for what running has given me in my life – health, friends, goals, accomplishments to be proud of, and best of all, a healthy sister.

Henry lives in Austin, Texas and enjoys cycling, running and backpacking.

Valerie has one son and lives in Columbus, Ga. In her spare time, she enjoys gardening and reading, as well as walking each day to stay fit.

Note: Whether you are a donor or recipient, it is important to consult a medical professional before attempting strenuous physical activities, such as running or heavy lifting.

This article originally appeared in the July 2005 issue of aakpRENALIFE, Vol. 21, No. 1.

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