The morning of the 2024 Glass City Marathon began like any other for Nancy Wells. With her usual breakfast, a familiar stretching routine, and a short walk to the starting line, she was ready to take on the day. But the air was thick with humidity, and from the moment the race began, something didn’t feel right. The first few miles, usually eased into with the pack, felt unusually taxing. Despite the slow pace, her body was working overtime.

After a quick stop at a restroom, Nancy spoke with other runners who echoed her concerns about the stifling conditions. But soon, tightness in her chest made breathing difficult, and running became a struggle. She slowed to a walk and called her husband, telling him she might not finish. He urged her to listen to her body and reminded her he’d be waiting at mile 9 if she needed to stop.

Pushing herself to reach him, Nancy alternated between walking and running, trying to power through. She made it just past mile 4, turned a corner—and then, everything went black. That was the last thing she remembered from the course.

Nancy had suffered a cardiac arrest caused by a blockage in her left anterior descending (LAD) artery—commonly known as a “widowmaker.” The survival rate for such an event, especially one that happens outside a hospital, is terrifyingly low: only about 10%. She was clinically dead for ten minutes.

When she woke up that night in the hospital, unable to speak and breathing through a tube, confusion and emotion flooded in. Desperate for answers, she asked for a pen and paper to find out where she was, what had happened, and where her family was. When she was told what she had survived, the weight of the moment hit her hard.

Learning the specifics of her condition in the days that followed left her stunned. She was lucky—extraordinarily lucky—and that truth brought with it a roller coaster of emotions and questions. Chief among them: Why me?

But the experience also transformed Nancy's perspective on life. She describes seeing a light during the ordeal and an image of her mother—a vision that gave her a deep and unexpected peace. It was a reminder that whenever her time truly comes, she’ll be ready. Until then, she’s committed to living life fully, without delay or hesitation.

“I’ve been given a second chance,” she says. “So if something matters, don’t wait. Do it now.”

Determined to regain her strength, Nancy began walking hospital halls as soon as she was able. She enrolled in an 18-week cardiac rehab program at the Cleveland Clinic and completed it with pride. Once cleared to run again, she hired a coach to help her return to her previous fitness level. She credits her pre-existing health and training with helping speed up her physical recovery.

Mentally, the process came with challenges. She experiences occasional forgetfulness—something she now manages carefully with notes and reminders, especially important in her professional life. But she’s never felt alone. With a supportive network of friends and family, Nancy stayed grounded and focused on moving forward rather than being trapped by questions with no answers.

A year after her collapse, Nancy returned to Toledo. This time, she wasn’t chasing a time goal—she was running for gratitude and for closure. Her goal was simple: finish the race she never got to complete, and honor everyone who helped her get there—from the bystanders who performed CPR to the EMTs, doctors, and nurses who saved her life.

Crossing the finish line brought a wave of emotions: joy, relief, pride. She felt the long-missed “runner’s high,” but more importantly, she felt whole again.

“That moment told me everything I needed to hear: I’m going to be okay,” she says.

Finishing that race wasn’t just about miles—it was about healing. About reclaiming her story. For Nancy Wells, the circle had finally closed.

Nancy’s recent cardiac arrest was a life-changing experience that gave her the opportunity to reflect and reassess her priorities. As a result, she has decided to retire from her position at Red Tail.

She and her husband, Scott, plan to become snowbirds, spending much of their time in Port St. Lucie, Florida. They originally purchased a home there in 2020 for their daughter, who was teaching third grade in Okeechobee at the time. When their daughter decided to return to Ohio, Nancy and Scott chose to make Florida their primary residence.

They will keep their home in Avon and return for holidays and the summer months. Looking ahead, Nancy plans to pursue her Certified Meeting Planner (CMP) designation and hopes to transition into corporate meeting planning in the future.

Editor’s note: I am sure I speak for any members of Red Tail who have had the pleasure of planning an event with Nancy; we will miss her dearly. Nancy was very accommodating, professional, and very creative! We wish her many years of good health and happiness!