His hand pressure is pithy, it feels like reaching into a juicer. So this is him. The man whose heart stopped from one second to the next. The man who was as good as dead for six months, kept alive artificially by two pumps. Whom they implanted a new heart. Who went on to conquer the Ironman triathlon in Hawaii. And who now wants to attempt the Cape Epic in mid-March - the biggest mountain bike stage race in the world. "I'm pretty excited," says Elmar Sprink as he chases along the trails with the BIKE reporter in autumn 2016. It's the first meeting. Elmar tells his story over a refreshing lemonade. An incredible story.
What does a foreign heart feel like in your chest?
Quite good. I even think my heart is much more powerful than my chassis. I'm incredibly resilient. Sometimes I jokingly think to myself: I would have needed that heart earlier, before the illness phase. Then I would probably have done even better in one or two Ironman races.
Does it feel strange? Or is it your heart?
A heart is a muscle. So first and foremost, I've had a new muscle implanted. To be honest, I don't even think about it that much anymore. Is this my heart or someone else's heart? Maybe that's also because I don't know who the heart belongs to. The general rule is that you are not told the name of the donor. At the beginning, shortly after the transplant, I thought about googling whether there had been an accident somewhere. I decided not to do it. Then you would probably always have that in your head - the fate of the person who died. Nine months after the transplant, I took part in the "Rund um Köln" race. I averaged 32! Cycling was great. Within a year, I had increased my performance test to 240 watts. I suspect that my heart came from a cyclist.
You were a well-trained athlete when your heart suddenly stopped in 2010. What happened?
Well, difficult to say. It wasn't a heart attack, and no evidence of a virus was found. It came out of nowhere. I'd been mountain biking across the Alps, mountaineering in Nepal and completed six Ironman triathlons. I was fit. On the day my heart stopped, I was sitting at home on the sofa watching the Tour de France recording from the previous day, stage 8, mountain finish. It was Monday. When I woke up in hospital, all I knew was: sofa, Tour de France, black. There were tubes everywhere. There was a cable in my nose. Devices were beeping. I had no idea what had happened. But I suspected it must have been something serious. As I learnt later, I was extremely lucky to be alive. I only had two coincidences to thank for that.
What kind of coincidences were those?
The first was that my wife Karin had come home early from work that day. She was sitting in the next room at her computer. She came over because I hadn't answered a question she had called out to me. I was already blue in the face and didn't move. Karin was of course completely shocked and immediately ran over to our neighbour. He's a doctor. Normally he would never have been home at this time of night, but he was on sick leave because he was having cruciate ligament surgery. He immediately saw what was going on and started resuscitation.
Has the heart just stopped beating?
Yes. I was examined meticulously. My heart rhythm was not good. But no real cause for the cardiac arrest was found.
How did you feel when you realised what had happened?
It was a total shock. I couldn't even comprehend it.
You were an active endurance athlete. Have you asked yourself why me?
Sure. Later, after the heart transplant, I was a guest on Markus Lanz. I shared a dressing room with Billy Idol. The guy was really nice and talked about his wild years as a pop star. Alcohol, drugs, the full programme. Of course, I wondered why my heart had stopped.
When did you realise that you needed a new heart?
That took time. I was first fitted with a defibrillator in case my heart stopped again. It all became inflamed, but I was eventually able to start cycling again. The following year, my pumping function deteriorated again. All kinds of therapies followed, including blood washing. Psychologically, it was bad. On the outside, I looked okay. But at some point I couldn't walk another hundred metres. My aerobic threshold was forty watts. Forty watts! I was exhausted. At the Charité hospital in Berlin, they told me that I probably needed a new heart. But first I had to get one! I had no idea how few organ donors there were in Germany. In my desperation, I went to a miracle healer and paid 1500 euros for some drops from the jungle. In a situation like that, you cling to everything!
You were between life and death.
So to speak. In February 2012, I had another cardiac arrest. My family was told that I had about twelve hours to live unless a pump was fitted. So there I was, a tube in my stomach, a tube in my groin. Artificially kept alive by two pumps. And then I waited. For 190 days - lying in bed. Well, and then came 9 June 2012: Karin and I were watching the opening game of the European Football Championship on TV when the nurse suddenly came in and said that there was a suitable donor heart.
What was it like to wake up and feel the first beats of your new heart?
Oh, you don't even notice that. The pacemaker is set to 110. I just asked where my mobile phone was and how Germany was playing. The new heart is now beating on its own. The defibrillator is out. The pump is out. The old heart is out. That's pretty cool.
After a story like that, how do you come up with the idea of competing in the Ironman in Hawaii and now also wanting to race the Cape Epic?
It's about goals. When I was in the transplant centre, the short-term goal was to have a bowel movement. The long-term goal was to live. I made a list of things I really wanted to do. Drink a latte macchiato. Go for a walk with Karin. Things like that. Small things. But also: mountain biking with my mates. Whilst googling, I found out that there was a heart transplant patient who had completed an Ironman. My goal was clear.
Can you remember your first few metres on a bike?
Oh yes. In August, two months after the transplant, I cycled my first lap. Seven kilometres, 12 km average. Really in lycra clothes. It was super exhausting, but incredibly motivating for me.
You have completed the Ironman and also the legendary ex-tremlauf Transalpine Run. What makes the Cape Epic a challenge for you?
I've never cycled a multi-day race before. What's more, I want to do the race together with my buddy Wouter from Holland, who also has a heart transplant. One difficulty for us is that we have to be extremely careful of germs and bacteria. We have to take medication that weakens the immune system so that the body doesn't recognise the heart as a foreign body and reject it. Even a thorn scratch or a gastrointestinal infection can be dangerous. We have to be very careful. This year marks the fiftieth anniversary of the first successful heart transplant. This was achieved in South Africa in 1967. The patient died a month after the operation. But the transplant was a huge sensation at the time. The Cape Epic takes place in South Africa. From that point of view, it's a well-rounded story.
Two months later, Elmar is sitting in a café near Munich's main railway station. He has an appointment with Bayerischer Rundfunk at 1 pm. Legendary presenter Thorsten Otto has invited him to his chat show "Mensch, Otto! The almost 40-minute interview is available here: to the Mensch-Otto interview
The media interest is great. ZDF and Arte have secured the rights to a report on "the extreme sportsman with two birthdays". The one-hour film will probably be broadcast in autumn. A camera team has just accompanied Elmar during his training on Lanzarote. The number of kilometres covered was limited due to a stomach bug. But Elmar has other worries. He has just received a WhatsApp message. His mate Wouter is in hospital. It doesn't look good.
Is the project in danger?
No. I have trained 5000 kilometres for the Cape Epic. I will ride. One way or another. If it doesn't work out with Wouter, then I'll ride with one of our physiotherapists.
What about Wouter?
During a biopsy immediately after his transplant, the new heart was damaged. To check whether the body is rejecting the heart or whether everything is OK, a tissue sample is taken through the carotid artery. Unfortunately, something went wrong with Wouter and he has had a stent ever since. A few weeks ago it was discovered that there is not enough oxygen in his blood. They are now considering whether Wouter should get a pacemaker. Then, of course, the Cape Epic would be a thing of the past for him.
Would you be disappointed?
Wouter has had his heart for a long time and also has this stent, he has to work harder than I do. He would have to train a lot more to even get there. Wouter has two small children. So I say: Fuck the Cape Epic! I'd be disappointed, of course. But Wouter's health comes first.
You say your immune system is not so resilient. Isn't it risky to train in the cold?
Yes, I have to be careful. I try to ride my bike outside twice a week, always around 50 to 60 kilometres and 700 metres in altitude. Otherwise, I cycle on the ergometer in my living room. Too long sessions outside would be too tricky. Although you don't get an infection purely from the cold.
The Cape Epic is one of the toughest mountain bike races in the world. How confident are you that you can complete the race?
In terms of fitness, that should be quite feasible. In the last performance test, my aerobic threshold was three and a half watts per kilo. That's pretty good. The maximum oxygen uptake was also good. I'm more worried about the surroundings. I won't be spending the night in a tent for hygiene reasons. If it rumbled in my stomach, I'd have to call it a night. And then there are all these detailed questions. How bad are the thorns? How can I cope with the heat? An Alban Lakata contacted me the other day ...
... the former marathon world champion.
Yes, exactly. He's supposed to be really good. He heard about me and offered me the chance to train together. I think that's great, of course. I can get a lot of tips there. I soak up all the information there. Every now and then I go jogging with a guy who has new lungs and works at Schwalbe. I've been asking him all the time which tyre is the best for South Africa.
You are considered the fittest heart transplant patient in the world. Would you say that sport is your pacemaker?
There's certainly something to it. Of course, I haven't fully processed all of this mentally yet. As nice as sport is, it is also a distraction in some phases. But I see it like this: others cut a centimetre off the tape measure of life every day. I, on the other hand, started from scratch and add a centimetre every day.
Do you really celebrate your birthday twice a year?
Yes, that's right. I lit the fourth candle last June.
After the interview, Elmar sends several emails and text messages to our reporter. He had already ridden the Cape Epic. And Elmar wanted to know everything: Which mini-tool is the best? Which tyre rolls the easiest? Does tyre milk really protect against punctures? It was clear that Elmar was putting every fibre of his being into the Cape Epic mission. This made the news that Elmar sent back from his skiing holiday at the beginning of the year all the more depressing. His team partner Wouter had informed him that the doctors had not given him the green light for the Cape Epic. "Now I'm riding with my physio. He already has a plane ticket anyway," Elmar wrote, adding with a smile: "It's going to be more exhausting for me!"
Click here for the Cape Epic blog by Elmar Sprink
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