A few months ago I took a Team Fitness class. I learned a lot, remembered a lot I had forgotten, toned up, lost a few pounds and was down two pant sizes putting my waist back to that little waist that walked down the aisle to greet my husband over eight years and three babies ago. Then pneumonia hit our house along with bronchitis, meningitis, chocolate, the common cold, Thanksgiving, green snot, guests, errands for Santa, peppermint cookies, Christmas, beer, queso and another round of coughs and colds. It’s been two months since I last walked into the gym. Luckily for me, only the queso was bad to me.
So I’m back at the gym and it feels like home again. I love those people, those machines and the child center that entertains my children. My oldest loves the climbing wall. Getting back on track after two months can be tough. I can’t imagine years going by without taking care of myself. What is hard is finding that zone again. After months of daily cardio and kicking my ass all the way to the cookie jar, I knew my numbers like the back of my hand. I knew just months ago at what heart rate I would get the best results and which one would make me go further or faster and which would make me pant like a large hairy dog in the middle of July in front of a hose that no one will turn on. I was told in my class to kiss my anaerobic threshold heart rate, and twice I was asked to run for thirty minutes at that rate. The first time was to see how fast I ran and how far I could go. The second was to see if I could go further at the same speed and the same AT rate, and also to see how quickly the paramedics would arrive since I was recovering from bronchitis at the time. My trainer started her shift at 4 o’clock in the morning, so I was certain her teeth hadn’t been brushed for hours, and I was sure I didn’t want to play around with the idea that she might have to bring me back to life. This past week I’ve felt like I have to make out with that AT rate. Instead of a simple kiss, I come up for air and pant until my ass is kicked and my legs are weak. Weak legs usually mean a great make out session, not just a kiss. And I’m down two pound again. So to my trainers I say my AT rate has changed in two months of not visiting you, but I do like making out, and you can kiss it!