So, after a year and two months of step-counting fun with my FitBit, I managed to lose it earlier this week. I look back on the moment when I realized that it really was gone, and I don’t like to think about the frantic panic that ensued. It had strong echoes of an addict looking for her lost fix. I had to force myself to settle down, to breathe, and recognize that it wasn’t the end of the world just because I wouldn’t have an exact count of my steps. I would still be exercising, and even though there would be no visible record, it would still count. And after a year of walking the same paths and trails, I have a pretty good idea how many steps I’d be taking, anyway.
In fact, losing the FitBit might have been a blessing. My reaction tells me that perhaps I was getting a little too wrapped up in the numbers and losing focus on the journey itself. A month ago I made the conscious decision to stop militantly counting calories for that very reason, and perhaps the fates decided I needed to take it just one step further. It will be interesting to see how my daily walks differ, now that I’ll be paying more attention to my surroundings rather than focusing on the numbers. I’m betting my walks in the park will be a lot more enjoyable.
Now, I’m not saying that I won’t replace the FitBit eventually, because I probably will. It’s an excellent tool, especially when it comes to motivation. I’m going to wait a few weeks, though, and give myself time to relearn the importance of enjoying this journey.