You may know that I hate exercising. In fact, I wrote a whole blog post about it.
However, I know that I must do it or pretty much die, so I do it. It's not a question of not finding an exercise that I like; I really do hate. them. all.
And by "do it," I mean that I walk, either outside on the trails around our apartment or inside on the treadmill. I tried the elliptical machine once; it was a disaster. I don't walk very far -- only a little over a mile -- and I don't do it every day. Three or four days a week is fine by me. Why be fanatical about it, especially when I hate it?
Anyway, many people have suggested that I get a Fitbit, because it will track all my mileage, steps, heart rate, sleep patterns, bank balance, and devotion to God. Evidently I can see how my friends are doing and nag encourage them to keep it up, and they can do the same for me. Thank you! I really do appreciate your suggestions to get a Fitbit. I do, honest.
But alas, the Fitbit is not for me. Really, it's not. I know myself; I'll get crazed about it or a couple weeks, then I'll take it off and never put it on again. If your Fitbit helps you, that's wonderful! I applaud and admire you. Go for it; live and be well.
And man oh man, those gadgets are pricey! The cheapest is sixty damn dollars and all it does it track your steps. The prices go up from there. I took the "See which model is right for you" quiz and got three recommendations: the Alta for $130, the Blaze for $200, and the Surge for a whopping $250. That's almost 40 quarts of Zwahlen's ice cream!
You know, I have a free app on my phone that measures everything I need to measure -- distance and elapsed time and pace. It shows me all the calories I've burned too, but I really don't care. I'm pretty sure it measures other stuff too, but that's all I need. I take my little walks, far enough to sweat a bit, and cross off another day.
Which I will soon have to do again, because my oncologist said I could resume exercising now that I was two weeks out from surgery.
You know what I looked forward to about surgery?
Not having to exercise.
But, okay, dammit. Walking begins anew. Tomorrow. Without a Fitbit.