Thanks to my Fitbit I’m just four pounds shy of my pre-Ireland trip weight loss goal. I’m not sure if the Irish will fully appreciate the lengths to which I’ve gone for my visit to their fair shores, but Fitbit seems proud of my efforts.
Just a couple of days ago the fine folks at Fitbit awarded me this prestigious badge. I’ve walked 1,600 miles since slapping the precocious pedometer on my wrist, a total equal to the length of Australia’s The Great Barrier Reef. Perhaps Studly and I should visit down under instead of Ireland.
Yes, this is a screenshot of the Fitbit leaderboard for this week. Please note two things:
1) I’m at the top
2) All my friends suffer from some weird facial disorder.
I call this one, “Nobody Likes a Braggart, but Who Cares?”
Seriously, I’ve only topped my Fitbit leaderboard one other time–back when I had no Fitbit friends. I suspect a couple of them will come roaring back this week, so I’m going to enjoy my status while I can.
Technically this is a screenshot, but I wanted to share it. This is from yesterday (1/13/17). I think I’ll call it, “Progress,” or perhaps, “Damn, My Thighs Hurt.”
Before bed I checked my progress and had logged 6.98 miles. Of course I then had to make a quick loop of the house to reach the seven mile mark.
Here’s a riddle: If a domestic goddess has spent the morning doing laundry and ends up with a load of towels, washcloths, undies, and socks to be folded and subsequently put away, how many trips will it take her to complete the job?
Answer: (choose one)
A) 4 (one to load the washer, one to transfer load to the dryer, one to carry the items to a place for folding, one to carry the items to their storage place)
B) 25+ (one to load the washer, one to transfer the load, one to carry the items to a place of folding, 21+ roundtrips to put away items by category and/ or purpose.)
If you picked A, you don’t know this domestic goddess very well. B is the proper response. Why, you might ask, would anyone be dumb enough to operate with B as the template?
My Fitbit made me do it. sorry for the blur, but the number shown is the number of steps I’ve taken today just doing laundry.
July in Tallahassee, Florida, is hot as blue blazes and humid, to boot. Exercising outside is best done early in the morning or late in the evening. Since I slept until 8 a.m., I missed out on the prime walking time.
Studly Doright feels slighted if I go walking during the evening (besides, that’s when the creepy crawlies are about), so I had to find a way to get my steps in without leaving Doright Manor. Thus, I’ve become an inefficiency expert.
As the day progresses, I’ll make multiple trips from the laundry room to the master bedroom to hang clothes one at a time. If I leave the house I’ll gather shopping bags separately for individual trips to and from the car. At the grocery store I’ll determine the route that is least efficient, often crisscrossing the store a dozen times.
For me, this exercise routine is second nature. I’ve always done every task possible in the most illogical way, so capitalizing on this tendency is a win-win. Now, with my Fitbit I have a witness. And it has yet to scoff at my methods. I can’t say the same for Studly Doright.
Studly Doright fell into a deep sleep as soon as the lights went off in Doright Manor last night. In contrast I watched the minutes, then hours, tick by on my Fitbit, practiced coordinating my deep breathing skills with the rise and fall of his snores, and not only counted sheep, but also organized them according to height, weight, and quality of fleece. It was a long night.
Twice during the night I felt the call of nature. Being a considerate woman even in a state of severe sleep deprivation, I carefully slid out from under the covers, making the most minute movements imaginable. With the stealth of a cat I moved through our bedroom and down the hall to access one of the guest bathrooms in order to allow dearest Studly to slumber in peace, undisturbed by the sound of a flushing toilet or running water.
Returning to bed after both trips to the loo I gently eased myself onto the mattress and matched my movements to his snores, pulling the blankets up to my chin in increments of a half millimeter per second. Studly never stirred.
At some point I slept. I know this because I was awakened rudely by Studly who abruptly sat up with a loud grumble-snort-sigh combo, followed by an inelegant roll out of bed, and topped off with a vicious tug of the covers. Granted he couldn’t have known that I struggled with sleeping last night, but geez Louise, he could’ve shown a little respect for the near dead.
I fumed as he showered and readied himself for the day ahead. As Studly noisily fumbled about for his keys and wallet I leaned across his side of the bed to kiss him goodbye.
Sweetly I asked, “Honey, did I steal the covers last night?”
“I don’t think so,” he said, sounding genuinely puzzled.
“Then why did you jerk them like a magician pulling the old tablecloth trick?”
“I dunno. Maybe I was looking for a rabbit?”
His humor just barely saved him this time. Grrrrr.
After I write this I solemnly promise my readers will never have to read another post about my Fitbit, but I thought some of the presidential candidates might need this information. It could be a game changer.
I’ve decided that the Fitbit might be a great boon to the economy and should be touted as such. Janet Yellen, heed my words! If every American had one the economy could make a complete recovery. Here’s my breakdown of benefits to the economy directly linked to the Fitbit:
1) Initially I drove to Best Buy using gasoline I purchased at a local gas station.
2) I bought a Fitbit Charge HR for around $150.
3) After purchasing my Fitbit I dined at Chicken Salad Chick where I spent $11.00 on my favorite scoop of Cranberry Kelly with a side of fresh fruit.
4) I needed good walking shoes, so I purchased a new pair at a local shoe store, spending another $80.
5) My socks irritated my toes, so I drove across town to a place that sells specialty socks and plunked down $12.00 for a pair. I like these and will soon buy more.
6) It’s been too hot most days to walk outside, so I drive to one of the malls in Tallahassee to walk in air conditioned comfort. Malls are dangerous places for me financially. I have purchased thus far:
Apropos of nothing last night my husband, Studly Doright, suggested I purchase a Fitbit. I pretended I had no idea what he was talking about.
Me: What’s that?
Studly: You know, it tracks your steps.
Me: Oh, it’s a pedometer?
Studly: Well, kind of, but it talks to your cell phone and tells you how many calories you’ve burned.
Me: Are you saying I’m fat?
Studly: Well, no, but you’re always talking about losing weight and, well….”
Me: (pouting dramatically) You’ve really caught me off guard. I guess, if you want me to buy a tool to keep me from getting fatter I’ll do it to make you happy.
Studly: You’re such a knothead.
Me: Yep. Let’s find me a Fitbit.
I researched, a.k.a. surveyed my Facebook friends who by a large majority recommended I buy the Fitbit Charge. I went ahead and got the HR model that also tracks heart rate. My mild technology anxiety fluttered in the back of mind when I contemplated the barriers I might have to deal with in order to get the device synced to my phone, but it was a breeze.
I’d go walking, but at 7 p.m. it’s still 95° degrees F in my part of the world and super humid. If I can hold out for another hour it’ll drop to 90°, and I might venture out. So far I’ve journeyed to and from the bathroom and clocked 173 steps. I have a feeling I won’t be reaching the pre-set goal of 10,000 steps on my first day of Fitbit ownership.
Peace, people.
Praying for Eyebrowz 