Corazónlover

The fighter enters the ring once again, his heart still recovering, pounding after the previous fight. He feels a sensation emanating from his chest, the ol' ticker is pounding harder, faster; as if his already thrashing heart began to race even more as adrenaline coursed through his veins, anticipating another fight. He can feel his body shaking as the organ pumps, his pecs rhythmically bouncing with every beat. His assistant, James rushed to quickly give him a drink and wipe his sweat with a towel, his hands caressing the entirety of his torso. His hands suddenly stopped and stayed on the wrestlers left pec, almost as if he noticed something. "Anything wrong?" Said the wrestler, as he noticed the palm resting on his chest. "Man, your heart's pounding like crazy, you sure you're OK?" Said James. "Oh yeah it's been like that for almost an hour, almost making my ribs hurt".

As the fighter's eagle eyes stare piercingly at the back of the arena, he focuses on breathing and calming down, although it doesn't help a bit on taming his vigorous heart, as its thick muscular walls---a result of his constant training, beating with all its might, fills with much blood and its valves slams within. He then realized the sheer size and power of the pump working inside him, now that he feels it first-hand. The doctors that do his routine check-ups had always been commenting on how massive his heart was in his echocardiograms, on how powerful his heartbeat is; but he never bat an eye, not until now.

At timestamp 2:10, Alan Ritchson talked about how his microphone picked up his heartbeat and how his heart was pounding so hard, that the people on set was distracted by it, effin' hot.