I joined a cult recently. I knowingly and willingly joined this cult. Don’t worry, it’s not Scientology or the Amish. It’s a different, newer cult. I yearned to be let into their ranks, and now that I’m in the cult I’m certain it will drive me crazy. OK, crazier.
It started the day before Valentine’s Day. My wife knew I wanted into the cult for about three weeks, but I wasn’t willing to spend the money. So, for my Valentine’s Day gift she bought me entry into this exclusive cult. She gave it to me the day before Valentine’s Day so that I could “enjoy it for the weekend.”
She got me a Fitbit. Yes, I’m one of those people now. I’m wearing the thin black wrist band. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing.
All day every day I now know how many steps I’ve taken that day, my heart rate, how many flights of stairs I’ve walked up, calories I’ve burned, my current pulse rate, and the time. The only problem is that it sometimes distracts me from checking how many blog views I have that day. I remember back in the day when people just exercised until they were too tired to exercise any more.
My problem with this thing is that I don’t consider walking to be exercise. Walking is how our bodies were designed to get from one place to another! Now, if I walk a lot in a day I’m expected to feel good about it. I’m told to feel that I’m slimming down. I walked before I had this and I didn’t think anything about it. Now if I exceed my highest step record I’m a champion! Woo! Go me! That’s ridiculous. If you’re a completely sedentary person who gets winded walking around the house, then wearing a wristwatch that measures your steps doesn’t suddenly make you into David Beckham or Ronda Rousey.
You know what would be awesome? If in addition to counting my steps it also gave me a little electric shock when I did something bad for my fitness. Like for instance if, like a dog’s invisible fence, it could shock me if I got too close to a McDonald’s. Or maybe if it sensed that I was about to eat pizza a little message would scroll across it’s tiny screen: “Are you frickin’ kidding me fat ass! That slice is like a thousand calories! Put it down!”
Another problem I have is that I’m not entirely sure that I’m not on house arrest. I know that I’m not on house arrest yet, but like the felons that have to wear an ankle bracelet so they can be tracked if they leave their house, how do I not know that I’m being tracked by the government? That my movements aren’t being entered into a data base some where? We’re all being tracked every day by our cell phones, our GPS’s, public video cameras, and our cars, so I guess that although Edward Snowden and the American Civil Liberties Union would both have fits (but not Fitbits), I don’t care if the National Security Agency knows what I’m doing and where I’m going. I’m pretty sure they don’t give a crap how many steps I’ve taken today.
So here’s where I’m at: so far, three weeks in I’m kind of addicted to my Fitbit, I like to check my pulse and my steps at least twice hourly. I like keeping score. I like feeling like I’m doing well even if I’m not doing anything different than I was before. Isn’t that what modern life is about with all our “likes” from strangers on the interwebs? Yes! More false and meaningless affirmation from an outside source! Excellent, now I don’t have to develop my own self-esteem!
So what are the cults that you’ve willingly joined and enjoy? Now don’t be stingy with the meaningless affirmations; give me lots of likes and comments! Have a great Saturday! ~Phil