It's not your usual couples activity, by any means. “Let’s get our blood pressure taken,” my husband Brian proposed when he saw the table for free health screenings set up in the grocery store several months ago. I should have known something was up. He said this the same way he might say, “Let’s see a movie,” as if getting a bicep squeeze from a piece of plastic was a normal form of entertainment.
For us, aging was becoming a competitive sport.
We were at the store to pick up a few items after our morning swim; my hair was still wet and my muscles a bit boiled-spaghetti-ish. After I’d turned over my arm to the technician and received the results, Brian looked positively gleeful. His blood pressure and resting heart rate were significantly lower. “Looks like I’m recovering faster from the swim,” he crowed as he gently tapped my shoulder with his fist.
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