Rochester Go Red for Women motivates journalist to better health


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There they were, two brand new scales to weigh myself. 

It had been at least seven months, but the time had come. My annual physical was just around the corner. 

I nervously stepped on the first scale: 224 lbs. 

Wait what? That cannot be right. I did just eat before this. Stepping off, I scooted the scale over near the trash can and quickly dismissed the inaccurate first read. ‘That’s just wrong,’ I persuaded myself.

I stepped on the second scale: 224.6 lbs.???

Oh my God, noooo. 

Enough of that. I removed myself from the “weigh-in”.

Now for the blood pressure: 132/87. Higher than I’d like, but I’m sure there’s an excuse.

Pulse: 85. ‘Should that be lower in the morning?’ I thought. ‘I haven’t even had tea, let alone coffee.’ Coming to grips with my self-measured vital signs, I felt concerned. 


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