Roughly 2 years ago I got a brand new fancy shmancy heart rate monitor. It was a Polar FT7. The Cadillac of heart rate monitors. You better believe I immediately took that bad boy out for a spin. I was so excited I even savored the splitting of the plastic and cursed manufacturers for that stupid packaging that seems fucking impossible to open.
Anyways, took the chest strap into the bathroom. Got water on the electrodes. Fitted it perfectly to my rest right under my massive pecs that even The Rock is envious of. Synced the electrodes to my watch, and bam. I’m ready to roll. A quick glance on my watch told me my ol ticker was ticking along at 63 beats per minute. Not too shabby.