fitbitch
I never wanted a GPS watch when they first came out. The first ones were big and seemed to be more trouble than they were worth. I was satisfied with my estimates of how far I ran which later turned out to be grossly exaggerated.
My sister got me a fancy Fitbit for my birthday a few years ago. At first I was skeptical but it became a welcome part of my day, documenting my runs, counting my steps, telling me my ass had sat down long enough on the chair and just generally encouraging me to move. I looked forward to the nice little wrist buzz I got when it celebrated my walking or running 10,000 steps. During races I loved that it ticked off the miles for me, making the run seem to go by just a little bit faster. I didn't love it's truthfulness though. I discovered that my 20 miler pre marathon runs were more like 17 or 18 miles. But this goes to show you - running 20 miles pre marathon, or even thinking you ran 20 miles is probably better for you mentally than physically.
I looked forward to it's little messages telling me how amazing I was. "You nailed it" it told me after I pushed "stop" at the end of my run. It knew my sleeping habits and my heart rate. I figured it would tell me if I developed atrial fibrillation or a different maybe fatal arrhythmia. Maybe it would defibrillate me if necessary - or call an ambulance or a funeral home depending on the situation.
Apparently my Fitbit was not informed when I tore a tendon in my foot - the posterior tibial tendon to be exact. This surprises me because it is synched with my computer and I figured it had access to my medical records or at least noticed that I spent time at a podiatrist office and also a surgical center. And later, physical therapy. It should have warned me not to run on the dirt road where I twisted my ankle. Or maybe I should have listened to my big sister who told me not to go out of town. I am sure it sent a message to my sister telling her I had ignored her advice.
Apparently it was unaware or didn't give a damn or wanted to just rub it in on my post op days of not getting even close to 5000 steps. "D let's move!" it kept demanding. "only 250 steps to win the hour" or its final plea "feed me!". Geez I didn't know that it was my steps that kept the damn thing going. It reminded me of a tamagotchi - the little toy my daughter had that she had to interact to keep alive until it could hatch into something and happily fly away, ending her responsibilities to it.
My Fitbit refused to give up on me or cut me any slack. It just kept urging me on as I sat immobilized in my chair, my foot held captive in a velcro brace that probably weighed more than my leg. I considered just taking the damn thing off and shoving it in a drawer or moving my arm repetitively, trying to fool it into thinking I was moving. I wish it could have given me some encouragement like "Don't worry, you will get back to it soon" or "make sure to do your physical therapy exercises".
As I was able to move around with just the boot and no crutches the number of steps gradually increased. I still wasn't getting my 10,000 plus steps but I now was able to judge when I was overdoing it by noting that my foot hurt more when I surpassed my usually low number. I measured my progress by how many steps I could increase each day without having it hurt more than usual.
Now I am getting back into running and am up to five miles - a slow five miles but I am grateful even though the foot still talks to me and is not what it used to be or might be. Maybe it will always hurt a little. I have learned that being older means things take longer to return to their previous state. And some things never do, but we can adjust. We just shouldn't give up or we will be old in more than just years.
I am sorry for the names I might have called my Fitbit. It really did help me with its digital readouts and programmed messages that gave me some hope and kept me going just a few more steps. Encouragement, even if it comes from technology, is something we all need.
My sister got me a fancy Fitbit for my birthday a few years ago. At first I was skeptical but it became a welcome part of my day, documenting my runs, counting my steps, telling me my ass had sat down long enough on the chair and just generally encouraging me to move. I looked forward to the nice little wrist buzz I got when it celebrated my walking or running 10,000 steps. During races I loved that it ticked off the miles for me, making the run seem to go by just a little bit faster. I didn't love it's truthfulness though. I discovered that my 20 miler pre marathon runs were more like 17 or 18 miles. But this goes to show you - running 20 miles pre marathon, or even thinking you ran 20 miles is probably better for you mentally than physically.
I looked forward to it's little messages telling me how amazing I was. "You nailed it" it told me after I pushed "stop" at the end of my run. It knew my sleeping habits and my heart rate. I figured it would tell me if I developed atrial fibrillation or a different maybe fatal arrhythmia. Maybe it would defibrillate me if necessary - or call an ambulance or a funeral home depending on the situation.
Apparently my Fitbit was not informed when I tore a tendon in my foot - the posterior tibial tendon to be exact. This surprises me because it is synched with my computer and I figured it had access to my medical records or at least noticed that I spent time at a podiatrist office and also a surgical center. And later, physical therapy. It should have warned me not to run on the dirt road where I twisted my ankle. Or maybe I should have listened to my big sister who told me not to go out of town. I am sure it sent a message to my sister telling her I had ignored her advice.
Apparently it was unaware or didn't give a damn or wanted to just rub it in on my post op days of not getting even close to 5000 steps. "D let's move!" it kept demanding. "only 250 steps to win the hour" or its final plea "feed me!". Geez I didn't know that it was my steps that kept the damn thing going. It reminded me of a tamagotchi - the little toy my daughter had that she had to interact to keep alive until it could hatch into something and happily fly away, ending her responsibilities to it.
My Fitbit refused to give up on me or cut me any slack. It just kept urging me on as I sat immobilized in my chair, my foot held captive in a velcro brace that probably weighed more than my leg. I considered just taking the damn thing off and shoving it in a drawer or moving my arm repetitively, trying to fool it into thinking I was moving. I wish it could have given me some encouragement like "Don't worry, you will get back to it soon" or "make sure to do your physical therapy exercises".
As I was able to move around with just the boot and no crutches the number of steps gradually increased. I still wasn't getting my 10,000 plus steps but I now was able to judge when I was overdoing it by noting that my foot hurt more when I surpassed my usually low number. I measured my progress by how many steps I could increase each day without having it hurt more than usual.
Now I am getting back into running and am up to five miles - a slow five miles but I am grateful even though the foot still talks to me and is not what it used to be or might be. Maybe it will always hurt a little. I have learned that being older means things take longer to return to their previous state. And some things never do, but we can adjust. We just shouldn't give up or we will be old in more than just years.
I am sorry for the names I might have called my Fitbit. It really did help me with its digital readouts and programmed messages that gave me some hope and kept me going just a few more steps. Encouragement, even if it comes from technology, is something we all need.
Comments