The Minnesota Farm Woman

The fitness tracker that I wear on my wrist recently bit the dust. It was a gift from my very fit daughter and son-in-law, who own a gym. I liked it just fine, and yes, it is possible that she was switched at birth. It was easy to use, easy to program, and had an matching app that I downloaded to my smart phone. It kept track of the number of steps I took each day and how many hours I slept each night. By the way, neither the steps I took nor the hours I slept were ever enough. Looking for a new one was harder than one might imagine. What size screen would I like? Should it track calories, steps, sleep, AND notify me of texts to my phone? Well, no, thank you. I have a phone that I paid way too much money for that already notifies me of texts. Since I don’t give two hoots or a holler about knowing the exact second I receive a text, I turned the notification sound off right away. What I wanted in a fitness tracker was just what I had, but after three years and advances in modern technology, it was impossible to find. I am also pretty cheap…er…frugal. It is bad enough that my phone cost more than a few cars I have purchased in my life, and I just don’t want to pay a lot for something that is really just a glorified wristwatch. Finally, I found a similar one and syncronized it with my phone. It has a few more bells and whistles than the old one did, but I thought it would do just fine, and it did. It did until I noticed that one of the bells and/or whistles is a feature that gives off a soft “beep” if it senses that I am not moving enough. I haven’t figured out how turn that vexing little devil off yet, either, but I’m working on it. I almost wish that someone would invent a tracker that would give me an electric shock every time I opened the refrigerator. Now THAT, I would buy. In the meantime, please excuse me…I’m off to take another walk.