THE GOAL
Let's get this straight: I'm not unhappy with my body. I have no desire to sculpt a bikini shape, cultivate a six-pack or lose a dress size. My body's no paradigm of feminine beauty, but it's fine. It's my willpower that's the problem.
My snacking habits are out of control. Teatime cakes and pudding after dinner are a given. Second breakfasts are routine. Meanwhile, one habit I have never managed to fall into is exercise. I have tried, many times, to force myself into a healthier, more active lifestyle, but since I despise almost anything that involves sweating or being out of breath, it seems nothing short of a full-scale health scare will change my ways. I'd like to eat, and act, a little more healthily. I'd like to puff less when I climb the stairs to my flat. I'd like my chin to look less doughy in selfies. If there was less of me to drag around on my bicycle commute, that would be nice too. I'm told Fitbit can make me healthier and more active through its suite of gadgets. And so, mishearing the word "suite", I've signed up.
THE METHOD
From Fitbit's range, I choose a tracker called "Flex", a rubbery blue wristband that promises to count my steps and the calories I've burned each day. It's a wireless device, so all the information is synced to an app and an online "dashboard" showing my stats in real time. The same goes for Aria, the futuristic-looking scales on which I'm required to register myself before being weighed. From now on, when I step on them, they will greet me with the message "Hi :-) EJ", and I'll soon be replying out loud: "Morning, scales!"
The idea is to set yourself activity and/or weight-loss goals, which the combined gadgetry will then help you to achieve. I have a modest target – to lose 5lbs. Fitbit suggests I need to walk around 10,000 steps a day, but it will reassess how much more activity I need depending how many calories I eat that day. Its online calorie counting tool is not particularly advanced – the database only covers US brands – but Fitbit is compatible with another, and far better, calorie-counting app called MyFitnessPal. With MyFitnessPal I can scan barcodes, choose a portion size and keep a fairly accurate account of my food intake.
With all that information, Fitbit keeps a live tally of how I'm doing towards my daily goal and sends it to Flex, which has five little LEDs that light up to show progress. The band can't measure activity such as cycling or swimming, but you can add this online and it will recognise the calories burned. When you've achieved your daily goal, the band buzzes. Theoretically, if I buzz each day, I should see the pounds disappear on those Aria scales.
THE RESULT
At first glance, Flex seems little more than a souped-up pedometer. Since the only "activity" it can really measure is walking, it's no magical time-saver; I still have to painstakingly input any other exercise I do. It claimed that in "night-time" mode it could reveal my sleeping patterns, but the first night I wore it, it failed to notice I'd lain awake three hours with insomnia. Then there's the mystery of the scales. Sometimes, perhaps when I've skipped a day, they don't recognise me and measure me as a "guest user". The weight they record is almost invariably a couple of pounds more than what they accord to "EJ", which makes me doubt its accuracy and intentions.
Yet it works. The app and online "dashboard" are nicely presented and easy to use, but most days I just keep an eye on the blinking dots on my wrist. If they seem especially low, I do a couple of laps of the office. I walk into work on days I'd otherwise catch the bus. And I lose my 5lbs slowly, sensibly, over two months.
Was technological wizardry the key to my success? I don't believe so. Fitbit's real secret is to make you more intentional about parts of your life you'd normally ignore. I changed what I ate and chose to do exercise, because it was setting me challenges, and keeping me focused on them throughout the day. You don't need expensive gadgetry to do that. But in the case of this serial exercise-denier, it was just the habit-change I needed.
