Why you shouldn’t knock it till you’ve tried it
There’s nothing like coming late to a party, and the older I get the later I seem to arrive at those parties! Of course, I’m not talking about social get-togethers. Although my timekeeping for social events seems to more frequently involve a mad dash than it perhaps did in the past. No, I’m talking about the late in embracing an idea sort of party.
To be more specific, one short word – wearables. I managed to have nothing to do with them for years. The idea that I should be dictated to by an electronic gadget was just too Big Brotherish for my liking.
I’m not a runner and have a bit of an allergic reaction to the gym but I do love my walking. So, I could understand that they may have a use for other people but didn’t really think I needed to be told how far I’d walked or how fast, as I do my walking for relaxation rather than for competition … or at least I did.
A couple of years ago, my partner swapped the desk job for one which keeps him more active and on his feet. One evening, after listening to his invariable claim of the miles he must have walked that day, I thought it would be interesting to know exactly how far and therefore be able to judge if his tiredness was justified. I should declare at this point that his weariness meant I was making the evening brew again as, in our house, whoever has had the lighter day tends to be the one for this task … and I was starting to feel like the equilibrium had got out of kilter.
He had a birthday coming up so, to kill two birds with one stone so to speak, I gave him a wearable. To give him his due, he seemed quite chuffed with his new toy. Initially even wearing it to bed until he got the measure of his, fairly erratic, sleeping statistics and broke the strap! It was interesting to hear how far and how many steps he’d walked each day. It was more interesting to hear how far we’d walked on our days off and during our holidays. The equilibrium returned regarding the maker of our evening cuppa. I even got used to the inevitable pacing round the house before bed if he was near a goal or another thousand steps.
The end of the year approached. Having been nagged to provide one, I eventually added a replacement watch to my gift list. You’ll know what’s coming … instead of a ticking watch face, I woke up on Christmas morning to open a box containing a smaller version of his wearable.
And that’s where things got interesting. You see I’m a bit of an old-fashioned girl at heart and have always had a theory. Exercise hubs are fine for those that enjoy them, but my belief was that simple everyday household tasks can provide a workout in their own right if attacked with gusto. Thanks to the little electronic device round my wrist, I can now prove this theory.
According to the giver of my gift, I must have got a faulty product as I gaily out-stepped him on a daily basis, sometimes by quite a large margin. However, we put this claim to bed by swapping our wearables for a day, his stats got a boost whilst mine were depleted.
So that’s left us with two possibilities – my legs being shorter than his, resulting in my step count going up quicker; or parking further away and walking to work coupled with energetically attacking my share of the household chores means I’m just more active. Or maybe, in the spirit of a harmonious home, it’s a bit of both!