To be honest, I thought a Fibit was a bracelet old people wore to encourage them to walk around more. And before you tell me I'm a grandmother of 2, let me first tell you to shut your pie hole.
So I was surprised when my super cool grown kids began wearing them, and then showed me all of it's features. Being the person I am, who daily monitors my weight on a scale that ridicules me by blinking red or green, I became convinced that I now also needed to track my calories eaten, calories allotted, resting bpm, sleep patterns, exact number of steps I take each day, as well as the breakdown of miles I've walked, and floors I've climbed, all of which is rewarded with invisible badges and a slightly startling vibration that for someone who's been electrocuted as many times as I have, sends a brief panic through my soul every time I reach a goal.
I might be a bit of an extreme personality.
Needless to say, my husband and I became proud Fitbit owners, which some would argue only feeds my obsessive tendencies, but I would argue that it doesn’t effect anyone else, so mind yo business...until the night I received a Fitbit notification that my son challenged me in a Workweek Hustle. What.Is.Thissss?
Well, I'll tell you what that was. A gauntlet thrown. It was the 2016 adult version of Red Rover and I'd just been called over. The unleashing of a very dark competitive side, and with it came phrases like, 'Bring it' and 'Goin down'.
And so it began.
All of which can end with sitting on the toilet the next morning and receiving the notification that someone snagged first because they waited until after midnight to sync their damn Fitbit.
Basically, I've been forced to take 100,000 steps for every 5 days.
So it should really come as no surprise when I, the person who'd rather take a fork to the eye than go to the doctor, woke my husband and asked him to take me to the emergency room, and then actually used the word debilitating when the doctor asked me to describe the pain in my lower back. But hey, I beat the person who'd arrived before me in the speeding ambulance to the front desk, so boom.
Kidney stone, no.
Pulled muscle and thoracic strain...ding ding ding, we have a winner.
Compression, heat, Motrin, muscle relaxers...and lots and lots of walking.