The Running Dead

(I go out for a jog, after not having exercised in a while, so I’m happy that I get my heart rate up. I go home and let my husband know that I exercised. He proceeds to try to find my pulse to determine how fast my heart is going. He has no luck finding my pulse on my wrist. I find it on my throat, and guide his fingers to find it. He still can’t find it, so he tries my wrist again. I tell him he will have more luck using my neck and try to help him find it again. No luck. Our conclusion?)

Me: “I guess I’m dead.”

Husband: “You’re just heartless.”