by Lisa A. Beach
In an attempt to embrace the latest trend, my well-meaning husband recently gifted me a Fitbit, one of those ubiquitous fitness tracker wristbands. This device tracks your every move (literally) with built-in GPS and a multitude of features, positioning it as a popular choice that (supposedly) suits every lifestyle.
Except for mine.
I felt a twinge of ungratefulness as I returned the gift. What does it reveal about me that I sent it back not because it didn’t fit or was the wrong color, but simply because I was not a fan? What kind of person does that?
Why?
To start, I’m just not passionate about exercise. Sure, I occasionally walk and practice yoga, but mainly out of a sense of obligation. I’ve given up on mastering the Dance Off the Inches Hip Hop Party DVD I bought a few years back, naïvely believing I could handle choreography that’s claimed to be “so simple anyone can do it.” Thank you for making me feel incompetent, girl-with-rock-hard-abs-on-the-DVD-cover. When Fit Blonde Girl instructs her hip-hop students to “pop it,” the only thing that pops (and cracks) is my achy hip.
I do attempt to incorporate physical activity into my day. I excel at word games, throw a fit when my teenager sasses me, run daily errands, jump to conclusions, and dance around awkward discussions. While these activities might not burn many calories, I’m not completely inactive.
The fitness tracker feels a bit too much like Big Brother, constantly monitoring my movements 24/7. To truly benefit from my Fitbit, I would need to wear it all the time, binding me like an ankle bracelet for house arrest, tracking every arm motion as I walk or reach for another glass of wine. Who needs that level of scrutiny all day?
Advanced Tech for a Low-Tech Lifestyle
I feel like I should be impressed by this “amazing product” loaded with features that not only track exercise but also monitor sleep patterns, water intake, caloric burn, and heart rate, but I’m not swayed.
• I don’t need a Fitbit to keep tabs on my water consumption. When my mouth feels dry, I know it’s time for a drink.
• I don’t require a Fitbit to inform me that I was restless 35 times last night. I checked the clock 14 times during the night, woke up feeling drained, and saw the dark circles under my eyes, so I’m fully aware that my sleep was poor.
• I have no need for a device that’s waterproof up to 10 meters, considering I have no intention of going scuba diving.
• I don’t need a Fitbit vibrating every hour to alert me that I’ve been too inactive. When I feel my rear end going numb from too much time at the computer, I know it’s time to stretch my legs.
Then there’s the guilt aspect. On days when I think I’m relatively active, I glance at my Fitbit only to discover that I’ve managed a pathetic 415 steps, and it’s already 3 p.m. This triggers a burst of frustration as I berate my wrist device, “Why are you silently critiquing me? Who are you to say I’m falling short today?”
Adding to this, I’m perpetually a few steps behind the latest trends. For instance, Breaking Bad was three seasons in before I even caught wind of it. I recently read a fashion article declaring the return of pantyhose, which made me wonder, when exactly did it go out of style? So it feels a bit premature for me to hop onto the Fitbit trend just yet.
I’m also not what marketing people term an “early adopter.” I don’t upgrade my mobile phone every year. I have no interest in an Apple Watch. Drones don’t appeal to me. After much resistance, I finally pushed myself to join Twitter as it approached its 10-year mark. I invariably arrive late to the trend gathering, and that’s by choice.
Now, if my husband could find me a Witbit to monitor my sarcasm, I would be all in. But a Fitbit? No, thanks—I’m all set.
