Like most relationships gone bad, we had our good times. Abby – yes, my Fitbit has a name – and I go way back; she’s been my trusted ally in my quest to stay fit for years. It’s no secret I’ve struggled to maintain the consistency I’d like in my exercise routine, so it made sense that daily monitoring of my activity level was a good strategy to keep me on track. And the added accountability to my “Fitbit friends” was even more incentive to get moving and hit my daily step goal.
Oh sure, Abby had her limitations; nobody’s perfect. I learned early in our relationship, her accuracy was only as good as the swing of my arm. I could walk two miles during an afternoon of yard work and was lucky to get credit for a couple hundred steps because I was always hauling buckets, heavy bags and garden tools. If my arm didn’t swing, my steps didn’t count. Same with pushing my grandson around the neighborhood in a stroller, or a cart around the grocery store, or schlepping through the mall loaded down with shopping bags; no arm swing, no steps. And then there’s her completely irrational issue with treadmills; even swinging arms didn’t seem to earn full credit on a moving belt. I’ll admit at times I found her step thievery a little frustrating, okay, a lot frustrating, but in the early days we were good together and I never considered going it alone.
The first warning sign I should have heeded was how competitive I was becoming with Abby. Getting to 10,000 steps each day mattered more than it probably should have; but the Type A in me was not in the habit of giving up easily on goals. Over time I’ll admit I began to resent her when it felt like she was depriving me of my rightful steps, and it would completely ruin my day if I walked out of the house without her. But nothing foretold of the problems to come more than when I changed the nature of my workouts for the sole purpose of getting her to give me more steps. I started routinely opting for longer walks, foregoing more stationary forms of exercise like strength-training. It got to a point where cardio completely dominated my exercise regimen; but, hey, I was working out and hitting my 10,000 steps a day so it was all still good.
I hit a stretch last year when I was plagued by injuries, each one minor individually, but collectively they posed a significant challenge to my aggressive walking routine. As my daily step count plummeted so did my morale; it was humiliating to watch my fellow steppers soar past me knowing I had no chance of catching up. As I rehabbed, I was willing to sacrifice my pace, just to get back to walking; I just needed the steps.
So now for my aha moment: all steps are not created equal. I suppose any movement is better than sitting on the couch, eating chips and watching Judge Judy. But I had traded high-intensity steps for your average pedestrian variety and allowed Abby’s daily celebration at 10,000 to give me false comfort that I was still living a fit life. Despite exceeding my goal most days, some not so great things were happening to my body; the scale had started creeping up a bit and my strength and flexibility had steadily waned. So right there, under the watchful eye of my trusted step-counting partner, my claim to a fit life had disappeared. I haven’t worn Abby since.
I know there’s a whole bunch of you Fitbit fanatics screaming, “Guns don’t kill, people do!” Yeah, I get it; it’s not Abby’s fault; she was just doing her job of counting the steps I chose to take. At this point, I’m back to a good balance between cardio, strength-training and toning workouts, so I’ve let go of any animosity. I even think back fondly on our good times; those family Fitbit challenges that made the miles between us disappear were the best. And sometimes without thought I shift a bag or my purse to my right hand just so I can get a good swing with my left; old habits die hard. I’ve even wondered if the day will come when I dig her out of that bottom drawer, recharge her and give our relationship another shot. But right now, I love the freedom to pursue exercise solely for its value to my body, without having to answer Abby at the end of the day or feel guilty that it was me that kept her from that corny little vibrating celebration that made her so happy when we hit our goal. Okay . . . I’m big enough to admit it, I kind of enjoyed that daily celebration part too.
If you’re an active step-counter, how’s the relationship between you and your Fitbit or any other tracking tool your use? Leave a comment below, I’d love to know if you find your gadget to be a friend or a foe.
I agree that fitness trackers should be used as supplements. Just like it is important to not base everything on what a scale says, the same idea applies to fitness trackers. I have seen way too many people sitting down and moving their arm up and down just to keep up in their weekly Fitbit challenge. When used properly, Fitbits can motivate and track progress, but it is important to realize that they are just a supplement to a healthy lifestyle.
I agree with your perspective. Obviously my issue was user error! While in my post I was exaggerating a point to make a point, I’m hoping I can find the way to set more balanced fitness goals and reincorporate Abby in my fitness program at some point this year. Thanks for the feedback!