“You look like a weirdo bouncing around out here,” said my husband from his open truck window. He had that look on his face. The one where he thinks I’m adorable on the one hand but doesn’t want to admit our marital status on the other. I grinned and leaned in the window, planting a kiss on his cheek, hoping that would sway him closer to “adorable” for the day.
I refrained from ‘bouncing” while he continued on his way to work, but as soon as he was out of sight, I began jogging in place again – I had to get some steps in before I was chained to my desk for the day. Every morning I take the dogs for their “poop walk”. The main goal is the production of outdoor tootsie rolls and not indoor tootsie rolls camouflaged on our brown carpet only to be found by an unsuspecting bare foot. Not a pleasant way to wake up.
However, our oldest dog, Lucky, is like a fussy old Englishman when it comes to picking his outdoor bathroom: “Shall I poop here? No, no, no – doesn’t smell right. Shall I poop here, then? Hmmm. No, not quite right yet. Perhaps this spot? Drat! Still not right….Oh? What’s this? A delightfully dead worm! I think I shall sniff it for 10 minutes and then roll madly about all over it!”
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST POOP ALREADY!!!
In the past, I just wandered along behind them, slack eyed and drooling before my first cup of coffee. But, since climbing back on the FitBit pony, I realized there was a wealth of steps to be made on this walk, if only I was willing to look like the neighborhood idiot.
Seriously. I look like that chick on the prancersize videos, only in the bustier Clydesdale version. Now, imagine seeing that come by your window when you first wake up in the morning. You can kinda see why Dave might want to deny all knowledge my existence.
Thankfully, I am NOT wearing revealing white pants. Instead, I don the clothing of my people: A Packer sweatshirt and pajama pants. Hey, it’s 6:30 in the morning. Be happy I have on a bra.
A bit of history: I bought my first FitBit Zip last year – you can read that story here – and proceeded to destroy it via wash machine. At it’s untimely demise, I fished out another crisp $100 bill and laid it down for the next step up – the FitBit Flex. Which I lost within a month because I had the great idea of attaching it to my shoe while I rode my bike (Note to self: You are a bonehead. That is all.).
I decided then that i was too irresponsible (and now too poor) to own a FitBit and I hung up my obsessive compulsive I MUST STEP ALL THE STEPS shoes.
Until, one day, I saw this beauty – the FitBit Charge HR. Besides counting steps, it counts calories burned, flights of stairs climbed, and miles walked. It has a sleep mode and an exercise mode. It’s a watch and it pairs with my phone and buzzes with an incoming call. Oh yeah, and it has a heart monitor in it! Be still my geeky heart. Nevermind that it cost more than both of my other two put together. IT HAS A HEART MONITOR!!
FitBit Charge HR
So now I have this new FitBit and I’m in about a thousand challenges a week and let me tell you I am kicking FitBit ASS.
Some might say it’s become a little life controlling. “Some” would be wrong. I can quit anytime. So what if we don’t have any clean underwear and I spend my evenings walking around the kitchen table until midnight?
Dave was downstairs watching TV and I had been marching around the kitchen for about 20 minutes when he came upstairs and glared at me. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Um…getting my steps in?”
“For the love. It sounded like a herd of elephants from downstairs. You need to get a grip.”
Fine. I’ll walk outside. In the dark, dark, dark outside, where we have no streetlights or sidewalks, past the woods and the cornfields, and pray I don’t get hit by a car. Or attacked by a werewolf. Or snatched by the Children of the Corn.
Now, if you will excuse me – I have to go find my crucifix and garlic cloves so I can go for a walk.
Until next time,
Werewolf Bait Sue
PS: I have since learned from other people that FitBit has indeed sent people new units even if they have lost them in incredibly stupid ways, like drunk swimming, bungee jumping, wearing them during an alien abduction, leaving them in 1986 during a hot tub time machine incident, etc.
PPS. I only bring this up because my very wise oldest sister told me to contact them both times and I didn’t follow her very sage and intelligent advice.
PPSS. And it pains me to say this, but YOU WERE RIGHT, TERRI!
PPPSS. Sue is still great.