4th January 2017
As you know, I have a bit of a Garmin obsession. And despite my best efforts to deal with this unfortunate affliction, Santa made things worse. And he brought me another little Garmin gadget to delight my heart. Although it’s a bike Garmin, so was technically a gift for my bike, not me.
I think my rehab is going well.
I think Santa still owes me.
And here’s the thing. I have realised today that the bike and the Garmin are so loved up that they’re trying to get me out of the picture. Oh yes, I have evidence that the Garmin and it’s arm-located cousin have ganged up and decided to take me out. My life is in danger.
I started to suspect something was untoward yesterday when the Fenix (the wrist-mounted cousin) and I went out for a
leisurely low heart rate run around the Storey Bridge. I was quite zen as we set off sedately. But it was shouting that I needed to go faster. I wasn’t in the zone. And it maintained a cacophony of bleeps and demands to up the pace.
(I wonder if Taryn has been in cahoots – it certainly meant that I met the exercise requirements of the Dietitian Approved #healthylivingchallenge2017: it got very huffy puffy out there!)
It seemed a little odd, as my low heart rate running usually looks VERY like walking (to the uninitiated).
Then today, due to a) failing to consult the weather forecast (I was sure it would rain) and b) masses of faffing about, I only made it as far as the wind trainer, rather than hurtling round a crit track with the club.
Undeterred, I entered the details of Jo W’s SBTC
torture heart rate zone training plan into the bike’s Garmin.
According to the Garmin, I did not do what Jo had dictated. (The schedule aimed at time in zones 2 – 4).
According to me, I nearly died.
And this is what happened, people. The dratted Garmin had changed its settings and assigned me the heart of a young person.
I did once approach 195 beats per minute, but that was when Chris Hemsworth was in town. Brisbane has settled back into the humid, happy city it was BC (Before Chris). And my max heart rate has not climbed above 185 beats in recent times. Evidence:
However, the Garmin had viciously used 200 beats per minute as my maximum heart rate and based all the % increments on that. I was trying to cycle like I was 20 again. Gasp. (No, literally, I was gasping. And my muscles were burning). But I did manage to get to a very impressive top speed. (We’ll just gloss over the fact that it’s a theoretical speed and achieved whilst actually stationary…)
It is now refusing to restate and rezone the results of my cycle. Probably to cover the evidence of its crime…
I’m not going to hold it against the naughty little Garmin, though. It was fun to follow the workout with it talking numbers to me (even if some of them were gobbledy-gook) and showing me all sorts of interesting facts about my ride.
So, the lesson today is check your Garmins! They can be devious little devils with murder on their mind. Don’t be taken in with their innocent electronic looks!
Now though, its time for a carrot and a stretch. Got to hit those #HealthyLifestyleChallenge2017 targets for today.