an athlete's heart

Every visit for my annual psychical examination medical professions make special note of my low blood pressure and low resting heart rate. Each time I mention I exercise daily. This usually brings the issue to an end. This year proved different. I had returned to the same physician, and as it turns out, the same medial assistant took my vitals. The young woman who saw me first remembered I exercise regularly. She even asked, "Are you still running?" I could tell my affirmative answer didn't help as much as usual.

She promptly wired me up for an EKG monitor of my heart rate. Her facial expressions seemed perplexed. She left the room and returned with the doctor. They looked at data on a laptop. In short order the doctor suggested a change of the placement of the EKG probes. The medical assistant did so and took another measure. Now, I started to worry.

It turns out my resting heart rate dropped from around 50 beats per minute to 40. The doctor and medical assistant saw this as cause for concern. So much so I was referred to a cardiologist where I received another around of screening. In the end I was diagnosed with Bradycardia. Sounds weird, huh? In short, it means I have an athlete's heart. The good news is the diagnosis presents no real health problem. An interesting note is it explains why I always wear long sleeve shirts and am not affected by Atlanta heat and humidity. For twenty years Shannan has compared me to an iguana for my intolerance of cold and appreciation of the beaming sun. As it turns out there is something to that analogy. The very slow rate of my heart rate accounts for my chilly disposition. Shannan says there’s still no way for her to understand my extreme tolerance of heat.

Stay warm. Run.

Tom