Watch your step

“I walked 48 steps today,” she proudly announced in response to my question, “How are you doing?”

She was in a long-term care facility, determined to get better and back to her home.

“Of course, I’m sure 48 steps doesn’t sound like much to you, but it’s a big improvement for me.”

She was right in saying 48 steps didn’t seem like much for me. But my situation is totally different than hers.  For her, walking 48 steps was an amazing accomplishment.

“That’s great,” I congratulated her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you walk right out of here.”

The truth was, when she mentioned her steps and mine, I had a fairly accurate idea of how many steps I had already taken that day.

Knowing the number of my steps would have never entered my mind had she made that comment several months ago. That’s because it would have been pre-Fitbit time.

I hadn’t heard of a Fitbit until a friend mentioned how much she enjoyed hers. She especially liked tracking the number of steps she took each day.  I thought, “Why would anyone want to do that?”

Then my wife surprised me with a Fitbit for my birthday. My Fitbit knows me well: how many steps I take, my heart rate, the number of hours I sleep, how many stairs I climb, the number of calories I burn, how many miles I walk or run.

And like my friend who introduced me to the Fitbit, I’m into it.

But I’ll warn you: If you, like me, have tendencies toward obsessiveness, watch your step, or you might become consumed with how many you are taking. The Fitbit can become a dominating force in your life.

One evening, Lori heard me going up and down the stairs in our house. “Tell me you’re not doing that just to get in more steps and stairs,” she demanded.

I didn’t answer, wondering if I should I plead the Fifth.

“Are you?

Still no answer.

“WELL, are you?”

I had been straining to get in two more flights of stairs before having to confess and come clean.

Anther time she heard me running in place in the kitchen.

“What are you doing in there?” she questioned from the den.

“Oh, just making sure the dishwasher’s running okay,” I said, trying to weasel out of admitting my guilt.

A few days later, I could tell I had gone too far. “Would you quit running in place while you’re talking to me? This is ridiculous,” Lori complained.

She simply didn’t understand that I was only 33 calories away from reaching a new goal in my “number of calories burned” category.

After that, anytime Lori heard me exercising at odd times in our home, she wouldn’t even bother asking why and would just shout, “David, stop that.”

Then I got her a Fitbit for Christmas.

A few weeks later, I saw her running in place.

“Addictive, isn’t it?” I grinned in triumph.

With the exception of sleep (“How many hours did you sleep? How much time awake/restless?), we rarely if ever compare with each other.

That’s because we not only have different goals but we are, well, different people with different physiological demands and capabilities.

It wouldn’t make any more sense for me to compare my steps with the 48 of the lady in the long-term care facility than it would for me to try and keep up with someone training for a Triathlon.

Keeping track of these areas of physical activity is simply a way of setting goals to do better in certain areas of our lives. But like anything, if taken too far and too seriously, it can suck the joy out of something that should be fulfilling.

There was a time when I tried keeping track of how much time I spent in prayer, but I stopped because it began sapping the pleasure from my time with God. I don’t think about the time when I pray. I just pray.

So, if I begin dreading my walks, get aggravated because I’m climbing stairs, or find myself waking in the night fearful that I’m missing my sleep goal, I’ll probably quit wearing my Fitbit for a while.

But until then, I’ll watch my steps and hope Lori and I don’t run into each other with all the extra walking in our house.