I have a confession to make.

I’m cheating on running.

There, I said it. After weeks of clandestine meetings in a windowless basement—sweating, grunting, pushing, pulling, and a little dancing thrown in—I’m finally ready to come clean about my extracurricular fitness affair. Because every time I open Strava and see my diminishing weekly mileage count, I feel a tiny stab of guilt for what I’ve left behind, at least for now.

But here’s the thing: I’m feeling fitter (and dare I say, more satisfied?) than I have in years.

It all started at preschool drop-off. For months, I’d been side-eyeing this one mom whose wardrobe always sported the bold branding of a particular studio fitness cult—er, club. One of these days, she’s going to pitch me, I thought, smug in my identity as a running purist. Overpriced, cutesy studio fitness? Not for me. I wasn’t much of a gym girlie, either. I’d rather pound the pavement for free, thank you very much.

But like the Wizard of Oz in the opening scenes of Wicked, preschool mom eventually worked her magic. Instead of a sweet green elixir, she offered me a free pass to Burn Boot Camp. “We’re doing a three-week promo,” she said. “First class is free. Come check it out!”

Truth be told, I’d been getting a little bored and burned out with running—and completely neglecting any strength work. So I figured, why not? Maybe this could spice up (and bulk up) my routine.

The next morning, I walked into the local Burn Boot Camp for my first class, somewhat underwhelmed. The gym was basically a big square box with an elevated floor in the center—no razzle-dazzle, no natural light, not even a single mirror. Painted in bold black lettering on the far left wall were the words: “IF IT DOESN’T CHALLENGE YOU, IT DOESN’T CHANGE YOU.” Umm hmm, I thought, resisting an epic eye roll, I’ve heard that one before.

At the door, a woman with a megawatt smile, caramel skin, and corkscrew curls greeted me with a high-five. “Good morning, Sarah!” she beamed, as if we were already BFFs. The warm welcome I could handle. The high-five? Lady, I don’t even know you. Little did I know that within days, I’d be doling out sweaty high-fives to total strangers like it was my job (at Burn, high-fives are a very big deal).

I forgot about that initial skepticism the minute Trainer Maggie took the floor—channeling Madonna in her Blond Ambition era with a headset mic and high ponytail. “All right, 9:30, let’s go! Get into a line chop for me!” she commanded. Having no clue what a line chop was, I watched and followed Maggie’s every move. Which wasn’t hard to do: She was enigmatic and energetic with enviable muscles—and she knew every single person’s name in the packed class.

The next 45 minutes were a sweaty blur of heavy weights, explosive moves, and more push-ups than I’d probably ever done in my life—all set to a killer playlist. Despite my preconceived notions, this was no fluffy fitness class with cutesy three-pound dumbbells. I left dripping with sweat and infatuated.

It was challenging, all right.

And yes, I admit, it changed me.

Not overnight, of course. But Burn Boot Camp loves a milestone—50 classes, 100, 150, and beyond—and I am nothing if not a sucker for a gold star. So I made it my mission to go to five classes a week and reach 50 by the end of July. Not only has that goal kept my streak up (I’m at 44 classes as of today!), but when you break down the monthly fee by class, it suddenly feels almost…reasonable. Or at least cheaper than a Starbucks run.

As my infatuation with Burn has grown, my time—and energy—for running is shrinking. At first, I promised myself I’d keep up my mileage. I swore I’d train for that fall half marathon, hit the trails after class, blend the best of both worlds. But the more I show up at Burn, the harder I push. Some days I leave so spent from the blend of cardio and strength work that I can barely climb the stairs to the parking lot, let alone jog around the neighborhood.

This affair hasn’t been all-consuming, however, I’ve been able to keep up twice-weekly runs with friends, who patiently listen as I wax poetic about my latest Burn conquests—whether it’s hitting a PR in weighted squats or maxing out on push-ups. And guess what? Despite running less, I feel lighter and more powerful than I did when I was logging mega miles. (Strength matters, folks!)

So now, here I am—still trying to find that balance between my old love and my shiny new fling, which makes me feel strong in ways I didn’t know I needed. It’s empowering, fun, and exactly what I’ve been craving.

Of course, I’m well aware of the newness of it all. Just a couple of months in, Burn and I are still in our honeymoon phase. My starry eyes might dim eventually, and perhaps I’ll once again crave the simplicity of just lacing up and heading out the door. Which is why, whether it’s Burn I’m into or another fitness crush down the road, I’ll never break up with running for good. Running has my heart, it’s my constant, my anchor, and what I’ll always come back to in the end, as long as it’ll have me.

All the high fives to that.