I’m not training for an Iron Man Competition or a marathon, hell I don’t even walk my dog (mostly because I have kids), but I am an upright mammal who has to walk to the mailbox so that’s physical activity and probably requires tracking. So I requested a Fit Bit for Mother’s Day and then forced my husband to give it to me early. If you aren’t in the know, the Fit Bit is a piece of plastic you wear around your wrist (or ankle, in my case) that tracks your steps, your sleep, your physical activity, and the amount of calories you burn. It can do more, but my Fit Bit and I are still in the ‘getting to know you’ phase of our relationship. Yes, I said relationship.
I refuse to name inanimate objects like cars, but I don’t refuse to have awkward relationships with them. My Fit BIt just gets me. From the moment I put her around my ankle, I felt like she really cared about the progress of my life. “Your goal today is 10,000 steps.” And all I wanted to do was make her happy. I couldn’t wait to get my steps in and prove that I was a worthwhile person to love. That’s not weird, you’re weird.
While we were at work, she buzzed my ankle and I giggled a little because we had a secret that no one else knew…I had already hit my 10,000 steps. “Congratulations” she messaged me. Then later “You are a real overachiever!!” That one got me in the tear ducts. Me? An overachiever? She just always knows the right thing to say.
This morning she was asking how I had slept and when I clicked over to let her know, she had already created a graph of my sleeping patterns. Just like a true friend would. She was a little concerned that I had been a bit restless and had woken up once during the night, but I told her not to worry because I felt pretty good and just needed a cup of coffee. Then I said “What do you think we should wear to work today?”
That’s not weird.
Sometimes when we are just hanging out and having our morning coffee, I gaze down at her little lighted display face and I think “You really bring something special to my ankle…and my life.” It’s not a relationship built on pressure or expectation. She knows I can succeed and is there to cheer me on, but without all the “Do this, do that.” Upon returning home from work last night I had an even stranger thought than any of the previous ones I’ve mentioned, I thought “I wonder if she knows about my bad habits. Can she pick up on my nicotine consumption or blood alcohol level?” But that would be crazy, right? RIGHT?
We haven’t talked about food yet. She’s asked, but I’m not a great eater and I’m a bit embarrassed to admit how many cups of coffee I drink and peanut butter sandwiches I eat in a day. It’s not that I want to lie to her, that’s not a great way to start a relationship, but I’m tempted to tell her that I had a boiled egg and some yogurt this morning and that I’m packing a kale salad for lunch. That’s not lying if I am thinking about maybe doing it, right? What will really happen is that I will eat a peanut butter sandwich on the way to work, drink four more cups of coffee, and then choke down a lemon pound cake for lunch. I just don’t want to feel judged. By my Fit Bit. That’s not weird, you’re weird.
Next week we are going to take a bike ride together and I’m going to tell her about the bike race I signed up for and we might even go to a yoga class together. I’m trying to plan what yoga pants would look best next to her and what flip flops won’t cramp her style. I mean that’s what you do in a relationship, you think of your partner and how to make them shine. It’s the least I can do if you she’s going to watch me sleep.
This is not weird, you’re weird.