Why? Because it’s making me a crazy person. Being not crazy takes more discipline than it used to, I’m afraid.
There may be some people – people who aren’t crazy – who don’t know what a Fitbit is. A Fitbit is a device that you wear that tells you how active you are. In my case, specifically how many steps I take in a day.
The main difference between a Fitbit and a simple pedometer is that a Fitbit is tied to technology – your smart phone or your computer – and you compete with others of your choosing. Fitbit keeps you motivated by delivering to your email a rundown of just how good or bad you are doing.
The idea is that by competing, you will be challenged to be more active than you would be otherwise. For me, that has been the case. But in the meantime, the other side of the coin is that it has made me a crazy person.
I compete against a son, a couple of nieces, and a nephew. But mostly I compete against my sister Bec. The reason for this is that the others leave me in their dust. Kate is, after all, a professional dancer. How can I possibly compete, not being a professional dancer? In fact, I’m not a professional anything, although I’m pretty good at watching Foyle’s War episodes in the afternoons. No steps there, I’m afraid.
Bec and I live about the same kind of life, so we are pretty good competitors. Sometimes she’ll outdo me in a day, but I might outdo her the next day. Back and forth. My goal is always 10,000 steps, and I get there more often than I don’t.
What then makes me a crazy person? It’s the fact that I am addicted to the Fitbit. I attach it to my body immediately upon arising and remove it immediately upon going to bed at night. Furthermore, if I happen to not have it fastened on to my body for any reason, I tend to think the steps don’t count.
For example, if I have removed the Fitbit and remember that I left something downstairs, I put on the Fitbit so that those 27 steps will be measured. It’s as if I think the steps somehow don’t matter if they are not counted by the Fitbit.
If I’m not wearing the Fitbit for some reason (and I can’t actually think about what possible reason would cause me to not attach the dang thing to my body), I will actually find myself thinking there is no need to park far away from the door since the steps won’t be counted.
A month or so ago, I decided that instead of wearing the Fitbit on my wrist where it’s designed to be worn, I would wear it on my ankle. My thinking was that sometimes my steps aren’t measured when it’s on my wrist because I might, for example, be pushing a shopping cart of carrying something that prevents my arm from going back and forth. Wearing it on my ankle, I deduced, would result in all steps being counted.
Except that it began making my foot numb. And yet, I continued to wear it on my ankle, until I finally got a grip and reminded myself that probably causing a blood clot in my leg that would then travel to my lungs and make me croak was negating the effectiveness of the Fitbit.
I could have just started once again wearing it on my wrist, and I probably will eventually. But in the meantime, just like with all bad relationships, Fitbit and I just need to take a break from one another.
It’s not you; it’s me.