Sunday, November 15, 2015

How my FitBit turned me into an obsessive basketcase

Behold, the Fitbit in all it's glory.



Fitbits are amazing.  These little gizmos can monitor just about everything that happens in your day.  Miles walked, steps taken, calories burned, heart rate, food intake, hydration, sleep...just about the only thing they don't monitor is your poo (though I'm sure that's coming in a future model).  

So why am I getting rid of mine?

TL;DR version

 I am an anxious weirdo with obsessive tendencies.  I also have a history of some disordered health, eating, and fitness behavior.  

The whole story

I got the Fitbit as a Valentine's Day gift last year.  Technically, I bought it for myself...Jeff got himself some sweet ass noise-cancelling headphones and I said "Happy Valentine's Day, those are from me, and I'm getting a Fitbit."  I ordered myself a Charge HR, because I wanted the most accurate calorie monitor (you can see where this is going already, I'm sure).  Also, I was on an absolutely HUGE dose of beta blockers last year, and I wanted to make sure my HR wasn't getting too low (turns out, my resting HR was in the 40's for most of 2015.  Being able to show evidence of this to my doctor, coupled with my super low BP (100/60) got my beta blocker dose cut in half.  So thanks for that, Fitbit)!

It came in the mail and I was super excited.  I charged it up, slapped it on, and set up the app on my computer.  I used the pre-set goals from Fitbit itself (10,000 steps, 5 miles, 10 floors, and 2,500 calories) for a few months before starting to tweak them.

Guess which one I tweaked.

I'll give you one subtle hint.

I thought, "I could burn 3,000 calories in a day."  So I increased that goal.  On days that I met the goal, I was so happy.  On days that I didn't meet the goal, I felt like a failure.  

A friggin arbitrarily selected goal on a goddamn electronic fitness tracker made me feel like a failure.  Why?  Because I don't not meet goals, dammit.  That's just not how I operate.

On days that I knew I wouldn't be as active, I ate less (like, way less than my nutritionally recommended plan that I pay actual money for science-y people to develop for me) to make sure my calorie burn was still significantly over my intake.  This subsequently led to eating like shit when I'd come home starving at the end of the day (now, when I say "like shit," I mean "like shit for me."  It was still miles better than I ate before I started treating my body respectfully).  

On days that I ate more, I felt obligated to go work out, even if it was supposed to be a rest day.  Even if I was exhausted.  EVEN IF I HAD FUCKING BRONCHITIS.  BRONCHITIS, Y'ALL.  Remember when I coughed so hard I peed myself at the gym last spring?  I blame Fitbit.

When I work out, I like to set goals for myself, even with cardio.  I started by saying "I'll do 300KCal of cardio."  Then it was 400.  Then it was 500.  If I got tired or ran out of time and had to stop before my goal was met, I was upset with myself.  EVEN THOUGH I HAD WORKED OUT AND DONE SOMETHING HEALTHY FOR MY BODY.  

I know for a lot of people, that much calorie burn is nothing.  But you know who (besides me, clearly) tracks their KCal so meticulously and workouts less than their goal "don't count?"  You know who else gets upset with themselves when they mess up their calorie burn by eating more than they want to while still eating less than they should?


Compulsive exercisers and people with eating disorders, that's who.

And another thing.

I didn't want to lift as much or as often.

Why?

I can't flippin believe it, but because my lifting workouts didn't burn as many calories as cardio.  Even though they're friggin EXHAUSTING.  Even though I know increasing your muscle mass is what leads to a higher resting calorie burn rate.  Even though one of my goals is to get stronger.  

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to throw my Fitbit into the nearest river.  But also, I didn't want to litter.  I hear those tickets are expensive (*wink*).  

This tool that I had wanted and that I thought had been so helpful to me, was no longer a tool.  It was a shackle.  It was a weight.  It was leading me down a path toward increasingly disordered behavior.  And I knew it had to go.

Pictured above: my Fitbit Charge HR.  Looks comfy.


It was peeling apart a little near the display, and still under warranty, so I contacted Fitbit for a replacement.  I also asked them if I could raffle it off or donate it, and they said that was fine (ethics, yo)!  The new one is due to arrive this week, and I just need to figure out how to get it the hell outta my house and turn it into a blessing for someone else.

I worked out this morning without the Fitbit.  At first, I felt a little naked.  My first thought was, "why am I doing this if there's no record of it?"  Then I realized, my shrinking food baby and growing bro biceps are the record.  My pants that are now too big.  My blood pressure meds that have been decreased.  My c-pap that will hopefully be going away next year.  When I thought about that, I didn't give a flying turd how many calories I burned.  Or how long I worked out.  Or how many steps I had taken.  The only thing I counted was reps.  It was magical.

Again: I think Fitbits are fantastic.  They can be an amazing tool for monitoring and improving habits.  The Charge HR and Surge can monitor heart rate, which is a huge improvement for those with some health problems that want to be active.  They are just not positive tools for me.

Also, if calorie counting works for you, DO IT!  It plays too much into my anxious and obsessive side and leads to ugliness.