Stress works

So, I’ve been telling everyone that I must have a stress test. Having quit my job recently, many have given me puzzled looks, wondering how I can be stressed. In this tough economic climate and these challenging times for both employers trying to keep going and employees trying to hang on, it’s no wonder people automatically assume my GP has seen too many frown lines on my forehead and ordered some kind of test for me.

This is not so. Joining Cruce de los Andes requires a fit note from your doctor and an exercise ECG test, otherwise known as a stress test to make sure your heart is working properly. It’s the one where they put you on a treadmill, up the inclination and keep doing so as it gets faster and faster. Meanwhile, you are hooked up via a load of cables to a heart spying machine and they take your blood pressure every 3 minutes as well. It’s all very Dr House – especially when you have to go private and you’re hooked up in a  jiffy.

I had my stress test yesterday. Off I trotted to Wimpole Street and the London Heart Centre. Located in a beautiful old house, I half expected a Dickens’ era doctor to pop his head round the corner and whisk me off to be dragged by horses, or however they did these things back then.

But no, treadmill and beeping machines there were. Having run 12 miles the previous day, I was hoping my legs were still up for some hilly fun. They did OK. I couldn’t get to my maximum heart rate, which I was assured means I am fit. I see the doctor tomorrow after my results are checked by a cardiologist. She will hopefully confirm this and sign on the dotted line which will let me do the most challenging thing of my life to date.

Makes finding a job look a sinch.


About Laura Alonso

We run. We travel. And to combine both is a beautiful thing. "Runners just do it. They go for the finish line even though someone else has reached it first."

Posted on January 17, 2012, in Running and the body and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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