Diagnosed. Quintuple (Five Grafts) Bypass. Unstoppable
Written By: Dhananjay Yellurkar. Heart patient. Marathoner. Believer in second chances.
From Heart Attack to Running Full Marathons in Seven Continents: My Journey Beyond Survival
There are moments in life that redefine what’s possible. Receiving the official certificate and medal for completing full marathons on all seven continents was one such moment. Though I crossed the final finish line of my 7th continent marathon in Santiago (Chile) nearly two years ago, the recognition arrived only recently — and with it came a flood of memories, emotions, and reminders of how far I’ve come, not just as a long distance runner, but as a heart patient who dared to reclaim life.
The Heart of the Journey
Years ago, I was just another busy professional navigating deadlines and stress, until a heart attack forced everything to a halt. That single event didn’t just shake my health — it shook my confidence, my routine, and my sense of control. Recovery wasn’t just about medication or surgery. It was about rebuilding belief. It was about finding reasons to look forward.
For a former non-athlete, long distance rRunning came into my life as a challenge — one small step at a time. At first, it was about movement, not mileage. But over time, something shifted. Running became my reset button. Each run pushed back against the fear and uncertainty that heart disease had left behind.
The Races Marathons Across the Continents
The idea of completing a marathon on every continent wasn’t a lifelong dream. It was a spark — a quiet goal that grew stronger with every finish line. From the Tata Mumbai Marathon in Asia to the rugged harsh terrain of Antarctica, each race told a different story. Some were scenic, others brutally cold or blisteringly hot, but all demanded endurance — physical, mental, and emotional.
I ran through the wild winds environment of Cape TownAfrica, the historic streets of Europe, the quiet resolve of Australia, the rhythms of South America, and the urban pulse of North America. And finally, the white, surreal expanse of Antarctica — where nature tests every human limit. That This race in the remotest part of our planet changed me forever. It wasn’t just another marathon; it was a confrontation with solitude, strength, and fragility. By At the end of my 14 years of long distance running it, I had joined an elite circle — those who had run full marathons on all seven continents. As of now, only 573 athletes globally have done it. Out of current world population of approximately 8.2 billion, that number still feels surreal. This feat would not have been possible without the incredible love and support that I have received from my wife, children and my pets dogs throughout my running journey. This honour is as much theirs as it is mine. Also grateful to my doctors, running friends and well-wishers for their support and encouragement. I have been disciplined with my regular check-ups and diet plus receiving a go-ahead from my cardiologists before attempting a marathon has been a must.
“Crossing continents wasn’t about distance. It was about reclaiming pieces of myself that heart disease tried to take away.”
A Medal That Took Its Time
Though I completed the final race nearly two years ago, the certificate and medal — issued by the Seven Continents Marathon Club (founded by Richard Donovan and managed by Polar Running Adventures) — arrived just recently. Seeing my name on the official member list brought the journey full circle. Holding that medal, I felt not just recognised, but seen — by a community that knows the cost of this commitment.
The delay didn’t dull the meaning. If anything, it deepened it. It reminded me that validation often comes slowly, and that the journey — not the timeline — is what makes the finish meaningful.
Why This Recognition Matters
For many, this achievement is athletic. For me, it’s existential. I didn’t just run marathons — I outran fear. I ran through doubt. I ran with a stent in my chest and a story in my veins. I ran to prove, not to others, but to myself, that I was not finished. Being part of the Seven Continents Club is a physical feat, yes. But more than that, it is a testament to recovery, to second chances, and to the human will. “Feels AWESOME to be part of this elite club of just 573 people out of 8.2 billion—that’s roughly 0.00000699%! To put it in perspective, cracking India’s toughest exam, the UPSC Civil Services, has a success rate of about 0.1%. This achievement is more than 14,000 times rarer! The joy isn’t just in the rarity—it’s in the incredible journey that got me here.” It feels special—not for its rarity, but for the journey behind it.
Reflections for the Heart Health Community
To everyone navigating life after a heart event: it doesn’t end here. It begins again — differently. You don’t have to run marathons. But you can run your race — whatever that looks like. Whether it’s walking a few steps more each day, managing your diet, or facing emotional setbacks with courage — it counts.
This isn’t a story of superhuman strength. It’s a story of quiet decisions made over and over again. It’s about choosing movement over fear, healing over hesitation. And it’s a reminder that your heart may have been broken once, but it can still carry you across the world — continent by continent, step by step.
Why HHIF Matters
This journey wouldn’t be complete without acknowledging the role of community and support. Heart Health India Foundation (HHIF) stands as a platform for patients like me — where stories are shared, doubts are addressed, and strength is borrowed when our own runs low. HHIF doesn’t just talk about awareness — it builds it. It doesn’t just advocate — it walks alongside. When I met Ram Khandelwal and learned about the patient community he founded after experiencing a heart attack at just 33, I couldn’t help but share it with everyone I met—ensuring they know support is available when they need it most, and no one ever feels alone. If you haven’t joined yet, click here and become part of our supportive community today!
For me, and many others, that kind of support changes everything. So here’s to every patient who’s learning to run again — metaphorically or literally. Here’s to second lives, rewritten stories, and delayed medals that arrive just in time.
Because life after a heart attack isn’t just possible. It can be extraordinary.
When I look back, I don’t just see finish lines — I see countless moments of uncertainty, recovery, and quiet determination. Surviving a heart attack changed how I viewed time, health, and purpose. Running became my way of reconnecting with life — of testing limits, building back trust in my own body, and showing up for myself, day after day. “Every finish line was a declaration: that recovery is not the end of the road — it’s the start of something extraordinary.”
Receiving this certificate — a small piece of paper and metal — carries the weight of years of effort, doubt, and resolve. I may be one of 573 in the world to have run marathons on all seven continents, but I’m also one among millions who’ve stared down a health crisis and decided to keep moving.
If you’re reading this and going through your own recovery — know that your race is yours alone. Take it slow. Be kind to yourself. And never underestimate the quiet power of starting again.
