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Why would two sisters from balmy Florida travel hundreds of miles to a frigid Boston suburb for a single medical study – and think it was worth it?

When the invitation arrived, Monica and Ximena Martinez knew they had to go.

The sisters chose a Thursday in February. They’d leave work on Wednesday afternoon, catch an evening flight from Orlando, Florida, to Boston, make the appointment in a nearby suburb early Thursday morning, then fly home in the afternoon so they could be back at work Friday morning.

Sure, it would be a rush. And expensive – airfare, a rental car, cashing in a day of paid time off. Plus, the visit would be so brief they wouldn’t see friends or family.

What was worth all the time, money and effort?

Spending a half-day getting poked and prodded as part of the Framingham Heart Study, with their only compensation being the satisfaction of improving science.

“Basically, it’s because we care,” Monica said. “We like knowing that the research may help get better treatment for people who suffer.”

That devotion says a lot about the Martinez sisters – and about the Framingham Heart Study.

This story is about both, and about how Monica and Ximena’s trip went sideways, leaving them to pull an all-nighter in a gas station parking lot, the snow and freezing temperature testing the heater in their rental car.

***

Today, it’s common knowledge that high cholesterol, high blood pressure, diabetes, smoking, a poor diet and a sedentary lifestyle all can lead to heart problems.

Much of that knowledge traces back to the Framingham Heart Study, the longest-running and most significant research project of its kind.

Members of the research team are as committed to caring for participants as they are to science. Similarly, participants feel a duty to everyone from those researchers to their study predecessors to the world at large.

It’s why all involved speak about “Framingham” with the pride of someone who’s part of the coolest, most exclusive club.

That helps explain why the Martinez sisters were so willing to make those sacrifices.

But it doesn’t explain how they reacted when their plans went sideways.

***

On the afternoon of Feb. 19, 2025, the temperature in Orlando was in the 80s when Monica and Ximena drove to the airport.

After 18 years in Florida, the unseasonably warm day didn’t faze them. If anything, it reminded the Colombia natives of why they moved there after a dozen winters in Framingham, a Boston suburb.

Their flight to Boston was delayed a few hours. By the time they climbed into their black Chevy Malibu rental car, it was well after 10 p.m. The temperature was 25, and snow fluttered onto the windshield as they drove toward a cousin’s house.

Although he was out of town, he’d arranged for a friend to let them in. When the sisters called – later than planned because of the delayed flight – they couldn’t reach the cousin’s friend.

Now what?

They were exhausted from a long day of work and travel, and a slate of medical exams awaited in under seven hours.

It was too late to call anyone else. Paying for a hotel felt pointless.

So they made the most of it, starting with a trip down memory lane.

Driving through the town where they spent some of their teen years and most of their 20s, the sisters cruised by familiar houses. They passed the Chinese and Brazilian restaurants their family had loved, then headed to nearby Natick to check out the mall where they used to hang out.

Eventually, they pulled into a gas station about 15 minutes from study headquarters. Not for gas. Or snacks. In fact, because they were supposed to fast before their exams, they couldn’t eat or drink.

But they had to spend the remaining hours until their 7 a.m. appointment somewhere. That’s where they decided to spend them.

They went inside to explain their predicament to the cashier so they wouldn’t get suspicious about two people sitting in a parked, running car all night.

With the Malibu’s heater keeping them warm and their familiarity with the area keeping them feeling safe, they talked and scrolled through their phones. They took turns napping and occasionally darted inside to use the restroom while waiting for sunrise.

At some point, 47-year-old Monica and 45-year-old Ximena thought about how rare it was for them to stay up all night – and about the fact that, when they did, it usually involved salsa dancing.

“I mean, like, what else could we do but laugh?” Monica said, giggling as she relived the memory. “We were having fun. We were like, ‘Oh my gosh – this is crazy!’”

***

After World War II, cardiovascular disease accounted for about 44% of all deaths in the United States. Worse, doctors barely understood why – or how to prevent it.

In 1948, the ������Ƶ began funding research seeking answers. That same year, the federal government launched the Framingham Heart Study.

Framingham is a longitudinal, epidemiological study. Translation: By following a large group over many years, researchers hoped to identify patterns among those who developed heart disease and those who didn’t.

The town of Framingham, Massachusetts, was chosen because, at the time, it was socioeconomically representative of the country. Residents included farmers and mill workers, entrepreneurs and executives.

Going door-to-door, recruiters for the study signed up 5,209 people.

This included more women than men and multiple members within the same family. Today, all that’s routine. Back then, it was practically unheard of. These are among the many ways Framingham revolutionized research.

“The original investigators really were building the plane as they were flying it because a lot of the methods in modern-day epidemiology had not been worked out,” said Dr. Donald Lloyd-Jones, who joined the study as a research fellow in 1997 and now oversees it. Lloyd-Jones also served as the president of the ������Ƶ from 2021-22.

The original Framingham cohort was to be studied for 20 years. But the findings proved so dynamic that the study continued – and expanded.

In 1971, researchers began studying a second group comprised solely of offspring from the initial group and their spouses. Starting with this group, researchers began collecting insights into far more than the cardiovascular system. A third generation joined in 2002.

Along the way, researchers realized that while Framingham had been socioeconomically diverse at the start, most of the population was white. So in 1995, researchers launched another study – Omni – focused on locals who weren’t white. Among its 506 participants was Henry Martinez Moreno, father of Monica and Ximena.

The sisters had been in preschool in Palmira, Colombia, when Henry and several relatives emigrated to the United States. They went to New Jersey, then Framingham. Monica was 18 and Ximena was 16 when they joined their dad there.

A few years later, Framingham researchers built on the findings of Omni by creating Omni 2, again recruiting offspring of the initial cohort and their spouses. Monica and Ximena gladly signed up.

Their initial exam was in 2005. They missed the second for reasons neither remembers, then returned for No. 3 in 2018. With time running out for the latest exam, they squeezed it in on that Thursday in February 2025.

***

On the Tuesday before, a coordinator called to make sure the sisters would be there.

Yes, they said – and they’d be there when the doors opened at 7 a.m. They wanted to start right away because they had an afternoon flight.

Usually, only a few staffers are in that early to greet early arrivals. But word went out for everyone to be there when doors opened on Thursday.

Monica and Ximena didn’t know that.

So after making the short drive from the gas station, they were surprised by how many people were there to greet them. Photos captured how welcome they felt.

Then they told the story of their overnight adventure. Staffers – already impressed by the whirlwind, midweek plans – were flabbergasted by this added twist.

Only then did the sisters fully grasp how absurd it all was.

***

After filling out the paperwork, they cycled through the various stations – Monica at one, Ximena at another.

They gave blood, got their blood pressure taken and underwent an electrocardiogram.

They went through a series of mundane tasks – walking, standing from sitting and lying positions – with a device wrapped around a finger and wrist that measured their heart rate, oxygen level and other vital signs.

They squeezed a device that measured grip strength. Another machine pressed on a shoulder to calibrate their perception of pain. They balanced a faux checkbook while electrodes tracked peaks and drops in stress markers.

They received take-home items, too: a continuous glucose monitor to wear for 10 days, and a phone app that would prompt them to do various neurological tasks.

Despite how thorough the exams are, they’re not check-ups.

“We are a research study, not a clinic,” said Maureen Valentino, the study’s director of recruitment and retention.

Ximena understood that. A breast cancer survivor, she’d had her annual physical 10 days before.

***

The sisters went from the clinic to a restaurant, then the airport.

At check-in, Ximena asked how much it would cost to upgrade to first class. Worn out, and still quite hungry, she liked the idea of getting pampered.

It was $50 per person. “I’ll pay it,” she said, picking up the tab for both tickets.

“So we sat in the front row and ate everything they gave,” Monica said. “We were both eating, drinking and laughing all the way back home.

“We didn’t even sleep!”

***

Now in its 78th year, the Framingham Heart Study remains federally funded through Boston University – and is still going strong.

Roughly 6,300 surviving participants are still enrolled. More than half live in Massachusetts. Most others are in the United States, a handful abroad.

All seem to understand they’re part of something historic and lifesaving.

“There are countless stories of people going above and beyond to make sure they remain involved,” Valentino said. “It’s so gratifying, so awe-inspiring to see the different things they do.”

A new provision that began after the Martinez sisters visited allows participants to receive gift cards of up to $200 for going through tests. Many have declined, Valentino said.

It makes sense; nobody got into this for compensation. It’s always been about serving the greater good and, for many, continuing the work begun by family, friends and neighbors.

“We have participants come in whose parents have passed away and they’re still like, ‘Oh, my mother would kill me if I didn’t come in,’” Valentino said.

As of December, there have been a total of 55 completed exam cycles. This includes 32 with the initial cohort and 10 from the second generation, with the 11th now in progress.

The cohort that includes the third generation of the original study recently finished their latest exam cycle, their fourth.

“Every week, if not every day,” Valentino said, “one of those participants says to us, ‘When are you doing the fourth generation? My children are ready.’”

Inspired by stories like Monica and Ximena’s, anyone can help move heart health forward -- not just through personal choices, but by speaking up for stronger policies and well-funded research. The ������Ƶ’s Heart Powered initiative makes it easy to get involved and advocate for changes that save lives and build healthier communities. Learn how you can add your voice at .