The Fitbit Diaries: Day 16

I’ve hit a fitness plateau, where healthy eating and my typical levels of belligerent self-motivation don’t seem to be cutting it any longer. Maybe it’s turning the corner out of my twenties. Who knows? All I can say is that for some reason, the bright glowing numbers on an elliptical machine display at the gym motivate me like no other, so I got something to turn my daily activity into numbers.

Day 16

At the end of my previous post I mentioned two friends had bought fitbits of their own, inspired by my shining example. Initially both the fitbit and the company of friends seemed like it would be a simple way to keep me honest regarding my activity level, but it turns out it’s offering so much more.

If you dress us up, we STILL look like incomparable assholes!

If you dress us up, we STILL look like incomparable assholes!

These two, whether they like to face the facts or not, are kinda best friends. They’ve been living together for years now, go on food safaris together, have adorable nicknames, and fight like an old married couple. If I’m being completely honest, it’s that last one that’s given me so much joy over the last five days.

Because one of these guys is used to being the fit one and one is used to being the fat one, and that’s not what the activity numbers are showing.

photo 2 (2)

Evidence for the world to enjoy

Cameron is losing his shit.

I get to hang out like a platonic spectator in the world’s lamest Spy vs. Spy, while the pair of them engage in athletic one-up-manship, and it’s amazing. My fitbit has paid for itself in entertainment value alone, like a $100 price of admission to the world’s best ego-flattening.  Inspired by numbers that only account for time spent waking (or running, who does that), we have become manipulative, sabotaging, unsupportive assholes.

The other night I forced Cameron to eat a plate of onion rings covered in sour cream and cheese.

Shawn walked to the grocery store and back today just to get his steps over Cameron’s.

Cameron is positive Shawn is cheating, but can’t figure out how.

Shawn is gleefully taunting Cameron by not in fact cheating, but just being more active than Cameron anticipated–our dogs are the real winners here, because what better excuse to walk?

I send Cameron screengrabs of the leaderboard every time Shawn is in front of him.

I also told Shawn about a new cheesecake bakery walking distance from his house, staffed by a very cute girl and brought him samples (I’m an equal-opportunity saboteur).

One of these men might be on the verge of a psychotic break

One of these men might be on the verge of a psychotic break

I also sent both of them taunting photos of me enjoying beer and bacon at Prism for Philly Beer Week.

I also sent both of them taunting photos of me enjoying beer and bacon at Prism for Philly Beer Week.

Because these are clearly the attitudes of mature, healthy individuals in mature, healthy, and supportive friendships.

You're right, Fitbit. My god, you're so right.

You’re right, Fitbit. My god, you’re so right.

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