A fitness smartband is supposed to motivate you to adopt an active lifestyle — that is what they say. Who “they” are I do not know, but it is an accepted truth. But wearing one has utterly doomed me.
I walked out of meetings with important clients, abruptly, because my sedentary alarm started beeping. I did not come back until I clocked my ten-thousandth step two hours later.
I became a devil’s advocate and began my conversations with “You didn’t walk ten thousand steps today? You’re going to get a heart attack! Do you want your children to see you coding and dying?”
I over-exercised and had plantar fasciitis and lost all my cartilage, but I continued to push myself because “pain is temporary” and fitness data lasts forever.
I developed an obsession to tracking my heart rate, and in turn I spent many long hours playing games such as Super Mario, because I needed to keep my heart rate up.
I started showing up late for work, because I had to sleep in, because the quality of my sleep according to my smartband was poor.
I had sores around my wrist, just like bed sores, but I refused to remove my fitness smartband and get them treated because that would mean skipping a daily report.
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