I track my workout time, type, intensity. I track what and how much I’m eating. At the end of the day I get a nice little report that shows I’m above the tolerable upper limits for vitamin A while the bar for iron and vitamin D is barely visible. I track my steps and am disappointed at the end of the day at how low the number is. I swear one of these days I’m going to quit my desk job and become a mail lady (with a walking route!).
Last week, as I was entering my food, trying to find the closest match and making edits because I didn’t include cream cheese when I made that recipe, I realized how stressful it was. It’s stressful to go over my calories because I had a muffin at work. And it’s stressful that no matter how many black beans, dark chocolate squares and spinach-steak salads I eat, I can’t seem to get enough iron. Ever!
My cardiologist told me to make sure I cool down enough after cardio exercise, meaning bringing my heart rate to around 120 before hopping off the treadmill. My trainer also told me to get a watch to make sure I take the proper 60-second break between sets. So, I started looking at all the newest, coolest trackers. They track heart rate, sleep, iron levels, hopes, and dreams! They buzz when you don’t get up enough.
Then I decided no! I don’t need more things telling me what to do or what not to do. I’m pretty good at that already. And to fill in any gaps, I have a boss, trainer, and cat who don’t have any hesitation to tell me when I am not doing enough. I know instinctively if I’ve cooled down enough at the end of a workout because I know what that feels like. I know that I feel light-headed when my protein is depleted. I don’t need a fancy bar graph to tell me how I slept last night. I was there. I know.
I’m a journalist, content strategist, doting auntie, amateur bobsledder, fitness enthusiast, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.