Conversations with a Workout Spaz
So I started going back to the gym because I was feeling like something of a slug. Blame it on the wedding, but I feel like I should be in better shape for the special day. After all, people are supposed to let themselves go after the wedding, not before it, right? And let's face it, knitting isn't exactly working out. Of course, I like knitting a whole lot more than working out.
The problem I usually have with working out is that I never really learned how to pace myself. Go figure, I am a spaz! So I got a heart rate monitor. I strapped it on the first day I got it and wore it for several hours while working. On average, about 65 or so. Okay, that sounds about right I guess. But then I went to this boot camp class that my gym offers with the thing on. Five minutes into class after the first of infinite sets of jumping jacks, I look down at the watch: 170. Huh, I don't feel like I'm going to die... I must be okay still.
Instructor guy is supposed to be motivational, yelling at us all "drill sargeant" like, except he's a bit too smiley for that to work. So I'm certainly not afraid of him, and well, I don't find him to be terribly motivational either. He barks, "High knees! Keep them up! Higher! Higher!" I just think, "I don't see your knees going anywhere, mister." He screams, "We're losing weight here... work harder!" I'm smirking back at him, "You work harder! You look like you could be standing around eating a candy bar." I guess like my knitting, I have a hard time listening to someone else tell me what I should be doing. I'd rather do it my way.
At the end of class, I look back down at my heart rate monitor and note, max HR: 190. Well, at least I didn't pass out today. I wonder if this is normal?
As promised, a picture of my retarded looking Dream Swatch head wrap. Thrown in for good measure (we're into full disclosure here!), a visual of what an hour at a heart rate of 170+ will do to you:
DF found me on the floor for the rest of the evening. I just hope Molly treats me better...