From the archives: Alyssa Gagliani: A test of the human spirit

SEPT. 8, 2006 — It was a moment Alyssa Gagliani had experienced countless times.

As the 2005 Burlingame High graduate crossed the finish line on Saturday, Sept. 6, 2006, her mom, Diane, was there to embrace her like she’s done so many times in the past. This ending, however, was straight out of a Disney movie, but with plenty of more heart.

Gagliani, a redshirt freshman at Santa Clara University and a former Burlingame High cross-country and track and field standout, finished 46th out of 52 runners at the USF Invitational at Golden Gate Park. On this day, where Gagliani placed wasn’t nearly as important as the fact that she finished at all.

After all, when you’ve trained all your life to be a top-flight runner only to see it one day come crashing down, when you spend 26 days in a hospital and you’ve cheated death, there’s a pressing need to figure out what’s really important, to cherish each breath as if it’s your last.

Saturday’s race was the first Gagliani competed in since she nearly died March 1, 2005. So you couldn’t blame Diane for being overwhelmed with tears as she watched her daughter cross the finish line. Diane spent many nights sleeping at the side of Alyssa’s hospital bed, only strengthening an already unbreakable connection.

“My mom was pretty tearful,” Alyssa said. “I think it was more emotional for her than to me, to tell you the truth. It must have been insane for her to watch me finish a race after she saw me in my worst moments. I never thought I would get back, so it was pretty surreal.”

Another heartwarming and fuzzy scene occurred two days after the race, when Gagliani celebrated her 19th birthday, a day that was anything but guaranteed. A year and a half ago, the 5-foot-6 athlete was fighting for her life after she was involved in a horrific car accident that left her with life-threatening injuries, including a shredded aorta, broken back, fractures to her tibia and fibula and a torn right medial collateral ligament. The next day, Gagliani spent six hours in surgery and doctors couldn’t guarantee to Gagliani’s parents their daughter’s survival.

When it was apparent Gagliani would be OK, doctors referred to her as a medical miracle — and with good reason. Although she had damage to her aorta, there wasn’t a major tear and the outer wall was completely intact — the best-case scenario in a life-threatening situation. Moreover, her lower lumbar vertebrae — L3 in medical circles — were fused with her second and fourth with pins.

The accident — caused when another driver basically ran Gagliani off the 280-92 interchange — could’ve easily left her paralyzed; instead, she suffered clean breaks that will allow her to function but probably never heal 100 percent. For Gagliani, that’s a small price to pay to the alternative — an early death.

“What really got me through this was the people around me,” Gagliani said. “I had tremendous support, a love and care that I never expected. I’ve never experienced anything like that before. In terms of what I learned from an emotional standpoint, it was the ultimate life lesson that your friends and family will always be there for you.”

Gagliani gave special thanks to the doctors, surgeons and nurses who cared for her while she was hospitalized, her parents, Diane and Dave, her older brother, Dan, and Burlingame cross-country coach Steve O’Brien, who Diane calls “a saint.” O’Brien visited Gagliani in the hospital daily, motivated her with constant words of encouragement and put together a training regimen once she was healthy enough to run again.

“She’s easily the most courageous, hardest working and most enthusiastic athlete I’ve ever coached — bar none,” O’Brien said. “We’ve brought her in front of the high school team to talk about her experience, and the education she’s given is wonderful. Not too many people have gone through what she’s gone through. I hope she realizes how lucky she is sometimes. She has that mindset that she wants to get back to where she was before the accident. She doesn’t like getting beat by 12 teammates.”

Of that, there is little doubt. While Gagliani has a deep appreciation that she’s alive today, the competitor in her can’t accept the fact that her times are a whopping minute and a half off of what she was consistently running in high school. Gagliani is a woman on a mission. It’s not as if she has to run. After all, she can’t run without experiencing a searing sensation of pain in her knees and back. For Gagliani, finishing a training session or race is akin to being involved in a train wreck. Like any professional football player, Gagliani is sore from head to toe the day after competition. She still has to take painkillers, something she despises. Doctors have told her that she’ll need to manage the pain, but Gagliani is wired to go only one way: All out.

“I was proud that I finished the race, but I won’t consider it a comeback until my times are as good as they were in high school,” she said. “People say I’m crazy, but the fact that I was given a second chance, I want to use it to the fullest. I’m not satisfied with my times. It’s a big letdown, but I can’t compare myself to other runners. Now I’m running against myself. In reality, I’ll probably step away from the sport once I get back to where I was before the accident, because all this running is not doing any good to my body.”

The next time Gagliani crosses a finish line, she’ll probably reflect on the moment her 1993 GMC Jimmy flipped over three times six feet down an embankment, how alone she felt, her life flashing before her very eyes. Then she’ll think about all of the hard work and sacrifices she’s made to turn her life around — one day at a time — leading to another moment of redemption.