Tracking Myself
The new fitness tracker I ordered in January finally arrived last week. This model is wicked pissah cool because 1) it's plum/purplely in color and 2) it tracks heart rate.
Heart rate tracking is a necessity. Oh sure, calories burned, flights of stairs climbed, steps taken - all important. But how else do you know you are alive other than your heart rate. You could be wearing your tracker and be pushed down a flight of stairs. You'll get the credit for that flight, but at the end of the day, who cares if you are not conscious and/or alive to brag about it.
Have you ever been in a really long boring meeting at work? And you've said to yourself "Aghh! This meeting is killing me!" ? Well, now you can know for sure. If you are looking at your tracker and see your heart rate starting to fall to say 25 beats per minute or so, you better move your arse out of that chair and get the hell out of the room. Because yes, that meeting is definitely killing you.
The opposite holds true on your morning commute. When you see your heart rate soar to 250, you know it's time to pull off at the nearest rest stop for a Dunkies iced coffee. Decaf would most likely be the best choice in this situation.
Right now I'm calm as a cucumber. Even after running up the stairs to get my phone, I'm in the zone baby. Either that, or my tracker is flirting with me.
Heart rate tracking is a necessity. Oh sure, calories burned, flights of stairs climbed, steps taken - all important. But how else do you know you are alive other than your heart rate. You could be wearing your tracker and be pushed down a flight of stairs. You'll get the credit for that flight, but at the end of the day, who cares if you are not conscious and/or alive to brag about it.
Have you ever been in a really long boring meeting at work? And you've said to yourself "Aghh! This meeting is killing me!" ? Well, now you can know for sure. If you are looking at your tracker and see your heart rate starting to fall to say 25 beats per minute or so, you better move your arse out of that chair and get the hell out of the room. Because yes, that meeting is definitely killing you.
The opposite holds true on your morning commute. When you see your heart rate soar to 250, you know it's time to pull off at the nearest rest stop for a Dunkies iced coffee. Decaf would most likely be the best choice in this situation.
Right now I'm calm as a cucumber. Even after running up the stairs to get my phone, I'm in the zone baby. Either that, or my tracker is flirting with me.
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