Recently, Monday to be exact, I turned the big 4-0. I was afraid it would be a little painful, but I didn’t feel a thing. As I stared down the barrel of 40 I realized I wish I’d done a whole lotta things I haven’t done. But 40’s the new 20, right? I’ve got a lot of time left to do all those things. I want to go whitewater rafting and zip-lining and canoeing and see the Grand Canyon and, and, and….have children, and…You get the idea. I’ve still got time.
My sweetie got me exactly what I asked for for my birthday. A heart monitor. So I can keep up with my heart rate when I run. Okay, jog. Because I’ve had a really hard time working up to a 5K this time. Admittedly the street I’m
running jogging on has a lot more of an incline. But working up to a 5K was a lot easier the last time around.
I’ve determined that my resting heart rate is 62. That’s good, right? So I plugged all the pertinent information into my little transmitter device which is all girly pink. Height, weight, age, sex. I’m a girl and I’m 40. The rest I ain’t tellin’. Anyway the little transmitter thingy says my target heart rate while jogging should be between 117 and 153 and that my maximum heart rate is somewhere around 180. “Not too shabby,” I think to myself. Ha!
I know these are approximations but is it bad that just walking at a brisk pace puts me at the top of the range? Is it bad that when I actually jogged my heart rate was actually more than the maximum heart rate for the majority of the time? My range was between 172 and 230. Most of the time my heart rate was around 190. When I jogged up Sumbitch Hill(I’ve given it a new name) it went to 214 and then 230. No wonder I’ve been having such a hard time breathing! It occurs to me I have no idea what I’m doing with this thing.
It hasn’t killed me yet. And I’ve finally gotten to the point that I can
run jog 28 minutes straight with no walking. Woo hoo! Maybe I’ll make it to 50. Keep ’em comin’. It won’t hurt my feelings one bit.