My Jawbone fitness tracker died this summer. I can’t say I didn’t see it coming. It had been having trouble syncing, wasn’t counting my steps correctly, and wouldn’t hold a charge. But having it die irked me just the same. Especially given how we were just past the warranty period.

After a year with a fitness tracker I’d come to enjoy recognition for every step I took. I didn’t lose one pound, but there was nothing like the satisfaction of being able to say, “Wohoo! I hit 10,000 steps today!”

If I am being honest, I have issues with goals and I might have been a little too obsessed. Sometimes I’d think twice about even getting up to go to the bathroom without the little gadget circling my wrist. I’d look down at my arm and think, “Oh no! I am not wearing my Jawbone!” Then I’d beller for my husband to bring it to me because I wanted credit for every single one of my steps.

Of course the dumb thing would pick the week of the county fair to bid adieu – meaning I wouldn’t get affirmation for ANY walking I did around the fairgrounds. Do you have any idea how much running around a 4-H mom does at the county fair? I was totally annoyed. And I felt lost without my app to reassure me that I could pop cheese curds sans guilt.

After it died, I missed the little device high-fiving me after each run.

I knew I ran three miles.
My legs knew I ran three miles.
My lungs knew I ran three miles.
(The scale never got the memo.)

But no app TOLD me I ran three miles.

I’d ask myself, “Why do I need a little gizmo to rubber stamp my run?” And the answer was always the same, “I don’t know why. I just DO!”

Lately it seems as if everyone I know is getting a Fitbit. My friend and I started walking together recently and she waxed on about how much she loved her Fitbit. (Side bar: If you want to slack off, don’t start walking with friends who are fitness instructors.) At the hospital all my nurse friends were laughing and doing laps around the ER because they are in competition with each other through the “friend” feature. Last week my girlfriends at small group chatted companionably about their Fitbits.

I realized I was not only getting zippo credit for my steps, but I was missing out on all the social fun! That is sheer torture for a sanguine.

Echosmith played in my head on repeat, “I wish that I could be like the cool kids. Cause all the cool kids they have a Fitbit.”

My husband thinks fitness trackers are pointless because they tell you what you already know. But I am nothing if not persistent and this week he agreed to buy me a “Stupid Fitbit!” (His words, not mine.) I think he is currently looking for a device that tracks his wife’s nagging.

Purchased within minutes of each other.

The verdict? I love it! It is more comfortable than the Jawbone and the app is so fun. It tracks sleep! Heart rate! Stairs! Gah … thats a lot of fodder for goal setting. I am not going to get obsessed this time. It won’t be the boss of me. I promise. But in case you are wondering, I am getting in more than 10,000 steps. Every day.