I Sorta, Kinda Miss You, Orangetheory Fitness
By: David Asch
Tags: Health, Fitness, Orangetheory Fitness, Exercise

Photo by John Torcasio on Unsplash

There was a time, pre-COVID-19 when Orangetheory Fitness (OTF) was an important part of my life. I visited the OTF studio up the street from my house two or three times a week and exercised like a maniac. OTF members wear heart rate monitors that project interesting statistics onto digital boards mounted around the studio. Each person has a box with their name that reflects exertion level, splat points (more about this in a moment), calories burned, and maximum heart rate. The high-minded among us don’t view it as a competition and care only about their own little box. Snoopy people like me check out other peoples’ statistics and, maybe, push a bit harder to keep up.

Orangetheory leaderboard displays exercise statistics for each participant.

If this public display of information galls you, you’re not alone. OTF isn’t for everyone, but it’s motivational for many of us. Shuffling between treadmills, rowers, weights, and floor exercises, there’s enough variety in OTF classes to engage even those with the most severe ADD. Each class is broken into micro-units, each lasting a very short time. Participants earn a “splat point” by bringing their heart rates into the Orange or Red zones for a minute. High-Intensity Interval Training (HIIT) means you do something (running, rowing, burpees, jumping…) like all hell for a short duration, followed by a less intensive recovery period; splat points are accumulated during these high-intensity periods.

I may have an addictive gene that makes me especially susceptible to gamification. The lure of splat point accumulation pushed me to crush it during class to the degree that started to worry me after I inflicted a long-term knee injury upon myself by scurrying around too quickly. Before I forced myself into a moment of reckoning, the COVID-19 tragedy struck.

Being a Splat Point junkie may be unhealthy.

Pre-COVID, I’d arrive at the studio early while the previous class finished. If I went inside the glassed-in studio to fill my water bottle, it was impossible to ignore the humid greenhouse effect and inhale the odors of perspiration intermingled with the smug scent of self-satisfaction. The unpleasant apres-class moist stew inside the OTF studio felt dangerous when Coronavirus reached our shores.

As I completed the paperwork to put my OTF membership on ice, gyms and boutique studios were all forced to close. Although OTF later reopened with mask mandates, reduced class sizes, and air purification, the petri-dish effect inside an OTF studio freaked me out too much to step foot back inside.

I now run, bike, and walk for exercise during COVID-19 — precisely what I did before OTF. I don’t wear a heart rate monitor and cannot motivate myself to push myself to the max because I don’t accrue splat points. Instead, I’m content to keep an aggressively moderate pace and enjoy my playlist.

When I expressed concern to my personal trainer friend, Gina, that I’m not pushing myself hard enough, she responded, “Look, if you’re going up hills and making yourself huff and puff, you’re doing fine.” One of the great things about Gina is her non-judgmental, reassuring manner. She’s never wanted to insult me, but I suspect she disdains my craven need for splat points.

Will I go back to OTF after I’m vaccinated? Maybe. I joined OTF for variety and efficiency. On my own, I don’t have enough drive to push myself to burn 800 calories in an hour. But I’m exercising more now, so maybe it evens out. My back-to-nature approach to daily exercise is spiritually nurturing, inexpensive, and it’s probably healthier for me.

Still, I do kinda, sorta miss Orangetheory Fitness.