It is still a struggle that finds me each morning ingesting the beta-blocker that keeps my arrhythmia from taking on the tempo of Gene Krupa’s drumbeat. As I attempted a run this morning on the beaches of New Jersey, I found myself not limited by my body but by my heart that will allow me a pedal stroke but not putting one foot in front of the other as was my custom in the 1970’s and early 1980’s. But because I have a spirit that will never be daunted until my expiration, I will gas up my running car just to see if I can recapture first and second gear. Heart acted up this week and on Wednesday in the noon Tripp Doherty class I quadrupled my bystolic dose so as to squash my racing heart like a bug scurrying across my path.
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