Not exactly how Boltgirl looked on the treadmill.
This guy is way too happy. Otherwise, yeah, pretty much a mirror image. I trundled away for ten minutes before hitting the target heart rate, and had to bail out not because of any need for a defibrillator but because the front of my left shin started to cramp like a motherfucker. What the hell do they think they're doing tilting the treadmill up like that? If they'd kept it flat I could have gone on and on.
Anyway, I managed to churn out a lovely series of peaks and valleys on the EKG. Now I get to wait another ten days to get the cardiologist's interpretation and verdict on whether I can continue my accustomed cheesesteak and red wine justified with regular bouts of chasing a ball lifestyle.
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