Start with the Fitbit

There are two things you need to know about me. Thing one: since they came out in 2009 I have studiously avoided getting a Fitbit until earlier in 2023. Thing two: I listen to a lot of true crime podcasts and know way more about murder and murderers than can possibly be healthy.

There were many reasons that I avoided getting a Fitbit, chief among them being that I didn’t want to come face to face with how infrequently I actually move. With a sedentary job and a penchant for equally sedentary hobbies, I knew I was not the type to get even close to 10,000 steps on a regular day. Even on days when exercise involves lots of movement I am lucky to break 6,000 steps. Having a Fitbit keep track of this daily failure seemed like a bad self-esteem move.

Another reason I avoided acquiring a Fitbit is that I am quite the hypochondriac. Fitbits are capable of tracking your heart rate, O2 saturation, and can even alert you to irregularities in your heart rhythm. Given that I can convince myself I’m going to die every time I get a small cut on my finger (because sepsis), having regular access to health information specifically as regards my heart also seemed like a very poor idea. I always thought it was likely to land me in the emergency room because my heart rate was too high or my O2 sat too low.

Perhaps the biggest reason that kept me away from the Fitbit corporation is the fact that I didn’t want all of my information tracked and stored somewhere in a way that I couldn’t control. Now, I’m sure if I read the fine print I would find that either all of my information would stay completely private and not be used by the company (unlikely), or that I would have the option to opt out of sharing my information and keep everything to myself. Let’s be honest, though. I am not a fine print reader, especially not when it comes to gadgets or technology. This, I’m sure, will someday be my downfall. Nonetheless the idea of being tracked and told what to do by a wrist robot made me uncomfortable.

Then along came health insurance, that inexplicable system that is supposed to provide for your healthcare needs, but somehow still requires you to pay a whole bunch of money out of pocket even though you also pay for the coverage. (I do not understand insurance.) Shrouded as it is in mystery, I discovered that my health insurance program offered free stuff to participants who used their health habit tracking app, a portion of which included tracking steps. Who among us doesn’t like free stuff? At first I used my iPhone to track steps, but that wasn’t very accurate and on days I didn’t have pockets was very inconvenient. So I upgraded to the free step counter that the insurance program offered. That lasted for about a year and a half before it kept falling off my wrist, eventually falling off without my noticing and disappearing into the unknown. (Eventually it was discovered under the driver’s seat in my car.)

When the cheap-as-free step counter went missing I decided to finally bite the bullet and put a little bit of my Christmas money towards getting a real Fitbit. I went with a modest model: not their most technologically advanced, but one that could track steps, heart rate, and even location on walks/runs/hikes. It also tells me the time and date, tracks my active minutes, evaluates my sleep, and reminds me to move around ten minutes before the hour if I’ve been sitting around too much. (This I blissfully ignore most of the time.)

As expected, the first couple of days with the wrist robot were a little iffy. I was constantly checking my heart rate and then Googling what a normal resting heart rate was. When my O2 sat first registered in the low 90s I nearly called the doctor before much internet searching and the Fitbit app itself reassured me that a Fitbit is NOT a medical device and should not be used to diagnose medical issues. I decided to just periodically check that my lips weren’t blue and get on with my life.

Similar to most apps these days, when I first started using the app that syncs with the Fitbit it asked me if I wanted the Fitbit to track my location at all times or only when using the app. With my fears of being tracked by a corporation and whomever they would sell my information to, I immediately chose “only when using this app” and rested easy in that decision.

All things considered I adjusted to this new life as a Fitbit user quickly. I actually came to enjoy seeing how my heart rate varies over the course of the day, how it changes during exercise or even during moments of stress. (My heart rate was in the 120s for the entirety of my grandfather’s funeral and most of that whole day. If you’ve ever wondered why anxiety is so exhausting, I have your answer.) And to be honest I don’t really care or feel judged when I don’t make my steps goal for the day. When you have five meetings in a day or you’re driving across the country it’s just not possible to get up and move as much as you should. That’s okay, and it’s not a negative reflection on you as a person. (OMG, look at me growing and not blaming myself for literally everything. It’s like I’m almost a reasonable human.) This little piece of technology has wormed its way into my good graces.

Every time I set off to drive out to Iowa (or back to New Jersey from Iowa) people tell me how brave I am to make the trip alone. I’ve never really considered this bravery. I’ve made the trip so many times now it strikes me as more boring than scary. It’s a time to catch up on audiobooks and eat a bunch of road trip snacks. Should the need for roadside assistance arise I’ve got AAA and I know the rest areas and hotels where I feel safe. No worries. Danger doesn’t really cross my mind when I’m on the road. The only time I get a little more vigilant is when it’s later at night and I’m starting to get tired from a long day on the road.

On the most recent trip home after Grampy’s funeral I started to get tired around Toledo, Ohio. The goal for the night was a hotel by the airport in Cleveland, a place I’ve stayed many times. When I get tired but still have to keep driving, my strategy is to drink a lot of fluids so that I have to pee the whole time. That keeps me awake and ever so slightly irate. It also means I stop at pretty much every rest area so am very alert while driving, keeping a keen eye out for the next place to stop.

About halfway between Toledo and Cleveland something strange started to happen. All those hours listening to my true crime podcasts started to kick in. I have spent literal years immersing myself in murder stories and aside from the rare hard time falling asleep, they never really bother me. Knowing how a bunch of murders, abductions, attempted murders, and rapes occurred actually makes me feel better, as if I am more prepared in the event anyone should attack me. But for some reason on this late evening drive I found myself terrified that I was about to be murdered. A truck would pull up beside me and I half expected the driver to shoot me in the face (this fear based on a true story). At rest areas I parked as close as I could to the entrances and made no eye contact with anyone I came across. I gave wide berths to vehicles that were running with one person sitting alone in the driver’s seat.

Things got worse when I got to the hotel. It was late and there were no other visible guests, all of them presumably tucked in their rooms for the night. The desk clerk was a little creepy and definitely big enough to overpower me. After I checked in I went out to the car to hang my parking pass in the windshield and get my stuff, forcing me twice to walk by a lone man smoking by the entrance to the building. He hadn’t been there when I entered to check in and I couldn’t see where he had come from. As I walked back into the building with my bags, he stubbed out his cigarette and followed behind me. While he took his time in the lobby I practically leapt onto the elevator and jammed the “close door” button hard, not wanting to ride up to the next floor with him. Even so, I was pretty convinced that someone was going to follow me and abduct me before I even go to my room (this fear also based on a true story).

Needless to say I made it safely to my room and the next morning continued my drive without incident. When I got back to my dad’s house I told him about my imaginings of my own murder based on what I know has actually happened to other people.

“You know, all those things have happened but you gotta keep in mind…”

“…they aren’t very likely,” I finished for him.

It isn’t terribly likely that I will get murdered or abducted on my various road trips around the country. If nothing else my hyper-vigilance and high anxiety is a benefit in this case. But it has still been on my mind lately and the fact is that, while it isn’t likely, it does happen sometimes.

Which brings us back to the Fitbit. This morning I went into my settings and changed it so that my Fitbit is tracking my location at all times. Who knows what this will mean for my online life. Perhaps the ads I see will be even more specifically targeted to where I am located. “Hey, we see you are 1,357 feet away from a Starbucks…how about a pick me up?” This will freak me out and I will not like it, but I will tolerate it for one reason. In the very unlikely event that I ever go missing, I want my Fitbit to be able to give people a place to start looking. Even if my attackers see the Fitbit and rip it off my wrist before secreting me away to their lair of nefariousness, at least it will provide a last known location, the start of the trail.

Fitbit! Great for tracking your steps, cardiac health, and last known location! Buy one today, get found tomorrow!

(This is not an ad.)