I have a new little piece of technology to keep me accountable.
When my husband got a new Fitbit for his birthday in March, I got his old one. I’d never wanted to wear a fitness tracker on my wrist. His new one shows his heart rate (which is always ridiculously perfect) and displays texts and caller ID from his phone.
His old one tracks sleep patterns and steps. I actually get excited every morning to tap on it and wait for the results to show up on my phone in the form of a graph with little lines that reflect how many times I was awake or restless. I get a breakdown of how long it took me to go to sleep, how many times I woke up or was restless and how long I was awake. It tells me to the minute how long I slept — or at least, that it thinks I slept.
When I do wake up in the middle of the night, I feel beholding to my Fitbit to go back to sleep so I won’t have a “bad report.”
I sleep with a CPAP machine for my sleep apnea, so I don’t stop breathing dozens of times a night like I did before, which is nice to know. I can only imagine what my sleep patterns would have looked like pre-CPAP.
It’s interesting how some days I think I was awake “forever” in the night, and my Fitbit shows I was awake six minutes. I haven’t slept more than 7 hours 24 minutes since I’ve had it, though, and I wonder how I’d feel with a full eight hours. It might change my life.
My husband marvels at my good sleep patterns; his are terrible. I must admit I feel strangely competitive about it.
It’s painfully obvious now that I’m wearing the Fitbit how much I sit at my job. The daily goal is 10,000 steps. Some days, especially when I’m on deadline with stories, I might get 2,000 steps. I usually go home and walk a little over a mile with my husband and our dog, which helps.
Herby Branscum Jr., whom I wrote a feature article about last week, rides his stationary bicycle every morning, usually 10 miles.
“It’s almost an addiction,” he said. “I feel like I’m leaving without my clothes on if I don’t do at least 8 miles.”
He described himself as “kind of a meticulous guy.” He started riding a stationary bicycle in 1993 and has kept up with how many miles he’s ridden. He’ll soon hit 120,000.
I suggest he get a Fitbit. He could blow that baby up.
The only exercise equipment I have at home is a yoga mat, a 6-pound exercise ball and small hand weights. My husband sometimes throws the ball to me, and I try for 100 repetitions. Occasionally during a television show, I’ll use hand weights. (I read somewhere that former Arkansas first lady Ginger Beebe uses hand weights while watching TV. I’d give anything to have her arms.)
This little piece of technology can be cheated. One day, just to test it, I shook my arm as I watched the step counter go up on my phone. Not fair, and it doesn’t help. A relative plays the guitar, and sometimes after a song, it’s like he climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. I noticed that the act of typing doesn’t increase the steps. If it did, I’d have a million.
My husband’s new Fitbit yells at him to get off his behind. OK, it actually just kindly tells him it’s time to move. He finds that slightly annoying when he’s in the middle of something.
I think that would be a good thing for me.
I haven’t programmed every feature I can on this one. It will keep up with my calories, too, but I’ll take this one step at a time. Pun intended.
Senior writer Tammy Keith can be reached at (501) 327-0370 or tkeith@arkansasonline.com.