Oh, My Beating Heart!

For the past few years, I’ve been wearing a FitBit™ – a wrist thingamabob that records my steps, weight, and sleep, and gives me a daily readiness score. Whatever “daily readiness” means.

It also keeps track of my heart rate and that is where this commentary is going.

As bike shop owners, Brian and I tried to “practice what we preached,” and for some years we were riding our tandem 1,000+ miles a season. We did RAGBRAI one year, a tandem rally, and other events in addition to our regular mileage. Brian believed you had to have that “lived” experience if you were selling it. He was absolutely correct – for a whole lot of reasons – and that is for a future commentary!

While smart technology was still a thing in the future, it was clear we were pretty danged fit. We were strong, thin(ner), and bike-tanned. Heart rate monitors were becoming a thing; I didn’t wear one so I was not aware of the statistics of our fitness.

I found out about my RHR (resting heart rate) during those “analog” years when I was in the recovery room after a couple of simple surgical procedures. The nurses wanted to know how a 50 + year old woman had such enviable vital statistics including a resting heart rate of 47. I was pleased, but didn’t think much of it at the time, after all, I wasn’t a medical professional. Recovery was quick and easy, so that might have been a clue had I been paying attention.

I began taking yoga classes right after my Mother died in 1999 - thank you Brian for encouraging me to get back on the mat! I became a certified yoga teacher in 2002 and during that training learned a lot about proper breathing techniques, something I still practice pretty much daily.

I learned how breath work helps with a whole slew of things from slowing your heart rate, lowering your blood pressure, and calming your mind, to increasing your energy levels. With the aid of my FitBit™, I can visually watch my heart rate slow down when I am sitting on my mat or resting in any of a variety of yoga postures while focusing on my breath.

Which brings me to the current state of things.

I’ve been noticing that my RHR has been creeping up over the past few weeks, and. when I saw a 58, alarm bells started going off in my head. I wondered what it meant – we’re talking 11 beats a minute here and I’m not getting any younger!

I decided to take a look at what my life is experiencing that might be so negatively affecting me and apparently my overall health.

It didn’t take long (or take a rocket surgeon) to figure out that the biggest impact on my psyche is the state of the Union - whether it’s from radio, television, Substack, or other social media outlets. It’s become very difficult to ignore the terror, pain, and lawlessness that has become the main focus of so much dialogue in our daily lives.

My husband has admonished me to not be so invested in the news, but as a Jewish American, it’s just not that easy. It’s hard to look away when it feels as if we are being assaulted on every level – economically, politically, socially, and morally. And truthfully. some of it feels very personal.

Case in point, a news item from this past week. It seems things have reached a new low.

An article that came up in my feed from the Guardian hit me particularly hard.

On January 13^th the article titled “UPenn faculty condemn Trump administration’s demand for ‘lists of Jews, ’” was published explaining how the EEOC has ordered that the University of Pennsylvania turn over information about Jewish professors, staff, and students, under the guise of combating antisemitism. It left me chilled to the bone.

(My husband wonders how these lists are compiled in the first place… does the University actually track such things?)

I believe that exposing the names and other information about Jewish citizens, when there has been an 893% rise in antisemitism over the last decade, (and that number is a year old!) is just opening a giant can of hate that will find its way into the worst of the worst.

Every action on every level that continues to foment unrest, fear, and anger has begun to feel very personal. It’s a stressful and often helpless feeling.

All I really want is to be able to return to my mat and sit quietly once again so that I can see my RHR return to its former healthy low. And, I want to get back on the bike in the Spring with the belief that this chaos and anger and fear will find relief in our courts, in our elections, and in the hearts and minds of the American people.