“You’ve won your penguin award,” the email said, or something like that. “You’ve walked seventy miles already! That’s the same distance the emperor penguin walks each year,” or something.
It was an email from Fitbit. Cool, seventy miles, I thought, in two weeks. Not great, but I’ll take it. Besides those emails with odd ‘awards’ and progress announcements, the Fitbit has had some interesting influences.
My wife and I each have a Fitbit and wear them continuously, except to recharge. Recharging is required about every five days. It takes one to two hours, but damn it, I was chuffed: that is one to two hours where my activity isn’t being counted. I’M BEING CHEATED.
We’ve taken to jogging around the house, ensuring the right arm, where we wear the Fitbit, swings forward and back. We often jog in place as we’re doing things. “Hey, did you read the news?” she asked, jogging in place. “No,” I answered, jogging toward her and then jogging in place as we chatted. “What news?”
We’re both right-handed so we’ve both figured out how to do things with our left hand instead of our right hand, and continue jogging in place. Making coffee and popcorn, cooking in general, getting the mail, the newspaper, emptying the trash and recycle…brushing our teeth. I’ve drawn the line at shaving my face and drinking liquids.
Everything is taken as an opportunity to add steps. Where we used to empty the car in one or two loads after shopping, to minimize the number of trips, we now carry less so we can maximize the required trips.
It’s insane.
It also seems a little addictive.
I’ve entered into competition with myself – I did fourteen thousand steps yesterday – go for fifteen thousand today! – along with a spousal competition. “How many steps have you done today?” my wife asked this morning, after returning from her Y work-out.
I’d been expecting this. “I’m at four thousand.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m at forty-one hundred.”
We both started running.
Michael Seidel, writer 