Fitbit my day

Holmdel Park in the Fall

Exercise is something I should be doing every day. I have no excuse for not putting on sneakers and taking a walk. I can't complain that it is too hot to breathe as it always is in the summer, and it is not the freezing-your-toes-off kind of temperatures of January. Fall is my favorite season and I have no excuse. Bugs have gone into hibernation and leaves are covering my path as if someone laid out a colorful carpet for me to commune with nature.

Even my Fitbit is thanking me for using it lately.

I make no claims to be an athlete. Norman is an athlete. He can walk a trail, run a race, swim in the ocean, throw a basketball, play a mean game of tennis, and embrace the new pickleball wave. And he will still stay up late to play poker. He loves to be active and he enjoys his games. Norman's Fitbit numbers are scary high on a lazy day. I'm amazed the black band on his wrist does not explode from the stress of his ridiculously high numbers.

My slimmer Fitbit model rarely reaches its default goal of 10,000. Last night, I dipped my tea bag in my mug and my Fitbit vibrated. After all that I did that day? It applauded me for making a cup of tea? I spent the morning panting up the hills in Holmdel Park. I built a bed frame for Sam's room, marching up and down the stairs with tools and trash. I even walked Murray a couple of extra times down the block for good measure. But dunking my tea bag brought me my applause. I wonder if shuffling the cards in poker last night gave Norman some extra claps of approval.

Sam and a creative sculpture on the High Line

This weekend, my son and I walked the High Line in Manhattan. We walked from Port Authority to the elevated walkway, a preserved railroad line transformed into a thing of beauty. Free for all to enjoy, the lovely landscaped footpath offers a touch of culture and architectural benches, perfect for napping or appreciating art. It overlooks a crowded and gray city, this path of heavenly respite for city dwellers and visitors.

We continued down the High Line to 14th street (and that was from Port Authority), over to Sixth Avenue, down the subway to lower Manhattan and then got lost trying to follow the Google map directions to the museum. My Fitbit vibrated and gave me a round of applause at some point during the day, but I should have checked it again because I am sure I deserved quite a standing ovation.

Waiting on line at Port Authority at the end of our night, I get a text from Norman boasting over 33,000 steps on his Fitbit. I quickly checked mine, sure that I finally beat my husband at something athletic. But it was after midnight when I looked at the slim black band on my arm. According to the Fitbit authority, it was a new day and all the city blocks we traveled did not count. My feet were sore, we were exhausted, and Fitbit said we walked a meager 307 steps. I groaned. I would have to dunk quite a few tea bags to make up the difference.

If you leave your Fitbit at home and you take a walk, does the walk still count?