Postcards From Across the Pond

My wife and I use pedometers to record our daily steps, and have done so since at least 2010, which may even pre-date the advent of the 10,000-Steps-a-Day myth.

NOTE: I just Duck-Duck-Go’ed it; it’s not. (I use Duck Duck Go instead of Google—Gulf of Mexico my ass—and BlueSky as an alternative to (and, to date, in addition to) Facebook, and avoid Amazon whenever possible, though I have to say, keeping those three entities out of my life is a lot harder than simply not buying a Tesla.)

In the early days, the technology was simple: a device that looked a lot like a pager (explain it to the youngsters) that did nothing but count your steps.

The next big shift in technology was the Omron series, which started basic, but by iteration III counted your steps, your distance, the number of calories burned, and stored seven days’ worth of data. And the batteries lasted a very long time, which meant I had to read the instructions every time I replaced one.

It also featured a little man that raised his arms up and down in a congratulatory “touchdown” motion when you hit 10,000 steps, which was always a cause for celebration.

At some point, we switched the “in your pocket” type pedometer for the wristwatch-replacing Vivofit by Garmin.

(NOTE: Other activity trackers are available, and you’d be wise to pick one as the Vivofits tended to have a short lifespan. We started out with Model II and, over the years, moved up to IV, which is where this story begins.)

The Vivofits ran on batteries that were difficult to find and impossible to replace. I had to take them to a jeweller or, in some cases, buy a new one because opening the Vivofit to get at the batteries was not possible.

However, we recently noticed some friends of ours wearing rechargeable activity tracking devices and immediately succumbed to pedometer envy. And just to demonstrate that I am slow to learn a lesson, I ordered Garmin VivoSmart V activity trackers to replace our Garmin Vivovfit IV models.

The idea was that we wouldn’t have to dick around with batteries any longer, but, my oh my, has the technology changed. (This is where the “… a giant leap for pedometer technology” comes in to complete the “One Small Step for Man” reference; I know you’ve been waiting for it.)

In addition to having a rechargeable battery, the VivoSmart V has a touchscreen (a 1 ¼ x ¾ inch touchscreen—not for the fat-fingered) and a host of configurable applications.

There are at least 24 separate widgets and 15 different trackable activities including Treadmill (isn’t that just walking?), Elliptical Trainer, and Pilates. The Health Stat Metrics include Heart Rate, Stress Levels, Body Battery, Sleep, Pulse Oximeter Reading, and Respiration Rate.

I have no idea what a Pulse Oximeter is, but the Body Battery, according to the 35-page instruction manual, analyses heart rate variability, stress levels, sleep quality, and activity to let you know the status of your Body Battery. Silly me, I just consider how I feel, and if I’m tired, I take a nap.

In its never-ending effort to keep me healthy, it wants me to tell it every time I take a drink so it can calculate my hydration level. On the plus side, it also tracks my menstrual cycle, so that’s a load off my mind. (And this makes me wonder: do women not know when they are menstruating? Do they need their watch to tell them?) Ditto for the Pregnancy Tracker (no, really).

It also allows me to control music on my phone, because rolling up my coat sleeve and getting at my watch to fiddle with the tiny icons is a lot easier than taking out my phone and opening the music app. It will also tell me the weather, which is more convenient than looking out the window. And it can answer my phone calls, which my hearing aids are also set up to do. So now, when I get a call, I can imagine a stand-off between my watch and the hearing aids, shouting at one another, “I got this!” “No, I’ll get it!” “No, I got here first!”

And if that wasn’t intrusive enough, every time I sit down for more than ten minutes at a time, it sends an electric shock into my wrist and admonishes me to “MOVE!” and “Take a break!” which to me is contradictory, because I am taking a break: I’m sitting on the balcony with a beer and a cigar enjoying myself. Stop telling me to move!

It tells you so many things about what is happening with your body that keeping track of them stressed my wife out to the point where she turned them off.

I left mine on, because I don’t care what it is or is not tracking; I’m just using it to tell me how many steps I take in a day.