After spending all day yesterday watching the Food Network and thinking about exercising, today I actually did it. I went to one of my new favorite places, Orange Theory Fitness. I say that this is one of my favorites places, but the truth is, I haven't been there very much lately. Nonetheless, I hauled myself out of bed this morning and let Mike be the one to coach me into a precipitous one-hour climb to my maximum heart rate.
I have never met Mike before today, but I like his approach to the class. Everyone in the class (about 15 people) has to wear a HRT monitor. And your heart rate results are displayed on a HUGE flat-screen with your name. THERE IS NO WHERE TO HIDE, part of the charm of these group workouts. After about 20 mins on the treadmill at a speed that I would never, ever run at unless ego and money and group competition were involved, I hit the fat-burning zone. I know this because I looked at the monitor. The truth is, one look at my face--which looks like I'm ready to stroke out--and one listen to my steady huff-n-puff on the treadmill, and it's clear enough that I'm in the zone.
Before the hour is over I can feel some serious endorphins kicking in. I am singing along to "Dance The Night Away" but also looking forward to how good it will feel when I stop working out and I can get my hands on some extra-strength Tylenol.