I know I said I would check back in a month, but I have to write this little post about what happened today. Aside from meeting Chris Kelly and New Hampshire Tim, which was pretty fun, I had an equipment malfunction that almost cost me my life. I’m kidding. But not really.

I purchased the Orangetheory heart rate monitor because part of the success of your Orangetheory experience is seeing how hard you’re working on the screen above your head. You get to where you live for that orange square up on the screen. Orange means you’re in the zone, you’re working hard, you’re getting that burn, the after-burn.

Well. Halfway through my workout, my heart rate monitor wasn’t working. My heart was beating through my shirt and all I could see up there was a cool blue and a BPM of 116 or so. My face was red, my breath was short. I ramped up my speed (you know, to like, 2.7 mph).

Related post: One Severely Out of Shape Woman’s Honest Review of Orangetheory

I adjusted my band on my arm, placing it in multiple spots. Nothing I did could give me that orange block on the screen. Like Pavlov’s dog, I needed that reward. I was salivating for the orange–or maybe that was sweat. 

I was certain my heart rate was in the red. I was getting nauseous. Maybe my heart rate was in the black–who could know? I could have been inches away from a cardiac explosion.

But, alas. I lived to theorize another day.

And I will never again neglect to wear my Fitbit. It could mean the difference between life and much harder work than I needed to do. Or death. You never know.