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ANCHORAGE, Alaska -- Stevie Clark had 19 points and Martez Walker scored 16 to lead Oakland to fourth place in the Great Alaska Shootout with a 79-66 win over UC Davis on Saturday.The Golden Grizzlies (6-1) led 37-34 at the half but trailed 45-43 in the middle of the second half. Isaiah Brock made a layup, followed by two free throws after a turnover, to put Oakland up for good and start a 9-2 run. Nick Daniels 3-pointer made it 52-47.Clarks 3-point play at 4:59 pushed the lead to 11 and free throws iced the game.Daniels finished with 12 points and Brock 10. The Golden Grizzlies were 15 of 19 from the free-throw line in the second half.Chima Moneke led the Aggies (5-3) with 21 points and 12 rebounds. UCD was just 11 of 36 from the field in the second half. Authentic Custom Jerseys . How great will be revealed in the next couple of days at the board of governors meeting in Pebble Beach, Calif. Custom Jerseys Nike . The phone hearing is scheduled for 4:30pm et/1:30pm pt. Winchester, who was not penalized for the hit, appeared to make contact with Kellys head early in the first period of Thursdays game in Boston. https://www.cheapcustomjerseysonline.com/ . -- Mike Smith never saw his first NHL goal go in. Custom Jerseys Cheap . -- The St. Johns IceCaps weathered a wild first period with the help of goaltender Jussi Olkinuora, before finding offensive inroads in the second. Custom Jerseys China . The 27-year-old Scrivens will be joining his third NHL club since signing with the Toronto Maple Leafs as a free agent in 2010. The move also reunites with him with head coach Dallas Eakins from their time together with the American Hockey Leagues Toronto Marlies. In July and August, espnWs weekly essay series will focus on body image.I was 13 the first time a doctor asked me about my family history of just dropping dead.Less than two decades later, I cant begin to count how many times Ive heard the question. ?Its been twice this week.I was the kid who played every sport and never turned down a chance to run around the park, soccer field or basketball court. Anywhere, really. But it all came to a halt on a hazy September day. The unfamiliar doctor was concerned after hearing a pronounced murmur in my heart through a stethoscope, and then he asked me matter-of-factly: Do you have a family history of just dropping dead?Thus began a journey with my body that continues to this day.I was quickly taken to the local childrens hospital and was initially misdiagnosed with a valve abnormality. Despite the error, my pediatric cardiologist was still correct in his assertion that something was negatively impacting the blood flow in my heart and that it would worsen. He warned of eventual symptoms and side effects and even surgery, but the news didnt feel real to me.At the time, I was lucky, and largely asymptomatic. I knew I had to be careful and what the consequences could be if I wasnt, but I didnt let it faze me. I earned 12 varsity letters in high school, and ran a five-minute mile with ease. I say that not to brag, but to explain just how hard it was to hear that I would not be allowed to play sports in college because of my ailment. It was heartbreaking. While I think I hid it well to most people around me, inside I was angry. I felt like my body had let me down.However, my condition did noticeably deteriorate in the ensuing years, and I had some scary experiences while working out. I collapsed one day after running and knew it was more serious than I had previously acknowledged.After seeing several cardiologists and hearing a slew of opinions over a multiyear span, I was finally diagnosed with hypertrophic obstructive cardiomyopathy (HOCM) in 2014. I was placed on extensive exercise restrictions and put on a twice-daily medication. I was in a constant state of fatigue and frequently got lightheaded and dizzy after performing activities as simple as standing up from my office chair or walking up the steps.I remember looking at myself in the mirror and wondering how I could have gone from such an athletic person to someone who couldnt do much of anything. It was a devastating feeling. In the fall of last year, I went to the Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy Center clinic at Tufts Medical Center in Boston. For the first time, it felt like the medical staff was listening to what I was saying and actually having explanations for it. And not only that, but they had a possible solution to alleviate many of my symptoms.Open-heart surgery. Specifically, a septal myectomy. And while hearing that initially felt like all of the air hhad been sucked out of the room, I quickly grew open to the idea.dddddddddddd I was being given an opportunity to potentially do so many of the things I loved to do again. I couldnt say no.In April, I underwent the lengthy procedure and awoke to my new-and-improved unobstructed heart. While the pain was intense, I almost immediately -- or after the heavy medication wore off -- felt such a sense of pride. I remember thinking: I did this. I made it through this. My body did this.I used to begrudge my body for what it couldnt do, feeling shame every time I had to make up an excuse for why I couldnt join friends at various exercise classes or anger when a one-flight walk up the stairs became debilitating. Now, since the surgery, I look at my body not for what it cant do, but for what it can.Just one day after being operated on, I was able to walk around the hospital corridors -- slowly, to be sure, but I was still moving. While I ultimately required two additional surgeries before going home -- to insert a pacemaker as an unfortunate consequence of the first procedure -- I still continued to get up and walk around. The halls of the ICU were my track, and I faced them just as I faced the actual track during my time as a competitive runner.After nine long days in the hospital, I finally went home, and the next day I walked a mile. Im sure it wasnt pretty, but I did it. I hope I never forget the appreciation I felt for being able to move on my own, breathe the fresh spring air and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin.Now three months removed, I am working out six days a week -- sometimes under the guidance of nurses in a rehab setting, and other times on my own at the gym. In my past life, I was comparing myself to those around me -- wondering why others got to run faster or longer or even why someone was skinnier than I was. But now I have an overwhelming sense of acceptance. Im just happy to be there.Sometimes, I stop and marvel at what I have accomplished over the past few months. I clearly wasnt born with the best heart, but every step I take and every new accomplishment in my journey feels like a victory.Sure, Ive had my setbacks. Running has still proved too tough a task (for now, anyway) and multiple failed attempts brought back some temporary resentment. But overall, I cant believe what Im capable of.I look at the scars on my chest not with disgust, but with pride. They may not exactly land me on the cover of Vogue, but theyre mine -- a constant reminder of what Ive been through and how strong I really am. Maybe I cant do everything I once did, and maybe I never will, but I appreciate everything I can do.And thats good enough for me.DArcy Maine is a writer and reporter for espnW. Follow her on Twitter @darcymaine_espn.? ' ' '