66 / WOMEN’S HEALTH SEPTEMBER 2019
Running Out of Time
What to do when your peak fertility years are gone in a (hot) flash? Lace up your
sneakers and run, writes marathoner Kelly McLay in this adapted excerpt from
the new book Tales from the Trails: Runners’ Stories that Inspire and Transform.
YOUR 20 S ARE MEANT TO BE A
LITTLE CRAZY, right? Filled with
newfound income, parties, and
cocktails—not night sweats, mam-
mograms, and Kegel balls. After
a year of gaining almost 45 pounds,
hibernating, and seeking second
opinions, in search of a physician
who would listen, I received the
diagnosis: I had gone through
menopause. That explained why I
was sad, tired, happy, and snappy.
I was also just 24.
To rewind, 14 years earlier, I’d beendiagnosed with hypothyroidism,
which affects your metabolism and
hormones. In this case, the problem
that attacked and shut down my
thyroid did the same to my ovaries.
I will never forget the ultrasound
tech describing them as “shriveled
raisins.” My endocrinologist, Vera
Fajtova, MD, told me ovarian failure
happens to about 1 in 250 women
with thyroid conditions in their 30s
and 1 in 100 in their 40s. My surprise
just happened to come a lit tle earlier.
My heart broke along with my
body. While friends were avoiding
pregnancy at all costs, I was desper-
ately trying to hold on to any last
flicker of fertility. I felt everything
was spiraling and I needed a
goal. Enter the Boston Marathon.
THE MOTHER ROAD
If the menopause roller coaster
prepared me for anything, it was the
ups and downs of infertility. John
and I decided to do IVF using an egg
donor. Nurses assumed that my
infer tilit y resulted from my active
lifestyle, but that was far from the
truth. Running gave me life.
With the blessing of my team of
docs, I kept pounding the pave-
ment, even running a few days after
our first egg transfer, which was
successful. At 27 weeks pregnant,
I completed my 49th marathon.
Eleven months after the birth of
my daughter in 2016, I stood in sub-
zero temps and crossed off another
goal: to run a marathon on each of
the seven continents. After the Ant-
arctica race, there was no stopping
me. I became one of 25 women in
the world to run seven marathons on
seven continents in seven days.
And thirteen years to the day
after I found out about my meno, I
crossed another finish line, in Dub-
lin, carr ying my absolute favorite
title of all time: “mom.”I latched on to my sister’s group
of friends who were training and I
felt super out-of-shape to start. The
first miles were painful. My lungs
burned, my legs stung, and I felt de-
feated—but running was the one
thing that started helping me heal.
It was the distraction I needed from
the loss I felt and a way to put one
foot in front of the other.
I ran the race after six months of
grueling preparation. And I burst
into tears when I glimpsed the finish
line on Boylston. The weight of the
menopause experience lif ted off my
shoulders. Running had inspired me
to own my diagnosis. As I got more
comfortable, I started to share it
freely and openly, and as such, the
weekend I met John—at my college
roommate’s wedding four years
later—he knew exactly what he was
getting into.
I probably broke every rule of first
dates, but I was up front about my
struggle and what it would mean for
someone entering a relationship
who wanted kids. My future partner
would have to be accepting of donor
eggs, or adoption, or simply living
happily ever af ter, just us t wo. For tu-
nately, after our third date, we
decided to take the leap and move in
together. (We eventually married.)CLOCKWISE
FROM TOP
LEFT: Kelly
finishes a
freezing
challenge;
14-month-old
(now 2½)
Scarlett
displays
Kelly’s
medals; like
mother, like
daughter,
May 2019COURTESYOF^KELLY^MCLAY^(^3)Ta le s f r o m t h e
Tr a i l s, edited by
Michael Clinton
($30, amazon
.com)