Ditching Fitness Trackers: How I Found True Health
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Chapter 1: The Dilemma of Constant Tracking
If you belong to the one in five Americans using a smartwatch or fitness tracker, you’re familiar with the excitement of reaching your daily goals. When your watch buzzes, a rush of dopamine fills your mind, marking your achievement of being a "Good and Healthy Human" for the day. In our tech-driven era, fitness trackers have become a staple. As we’ve advanced, we’ve developed ways to monitor productivity, habits, and even the cosmos—so it’s no surprise that fitness tracking followed suit.
We’ve moved beyond merely tracking the time; now we monitor heart rates, steps taken, calories burned, stairs climbed, sleep patterns, and sometimes even ECG readings or blood oxygen levels. By accessing the corresponding app, we can dive into even more data. Sleep scores, workout intensity, weight changes, and activity hours are all at our fingertips—along with similar data from friends and family who also use these devices. But is all this information genuinely beneficial? Does it promote healthier lifestyles?
A recent review in The American Journal of Medicine suggests otherwise. The literature indicates that wearable devices often fail to improve health outcomes. While they may offer short-term motivation, most studies show little long-term impact on health trends. Despite collecting extensive data, we struggle to find effective ways to utilize it.
On average, these devices don't provide the assistance we need. Many people lack the expertise to transform this data into a practical fitness strategy. For some, this becomes a mere inconvenience, while for others, it evolves into a more serious issue.
My tendency toward obsessive thoughts makes real-time data addictive. I found myself unable to resist checking for new metrics whenever my Fitbit buzzed, even if it was just moments since my last look. I invested hours into the Fitbit app, and rather than helping, it harmed my mental health and motivation.
I unintentionally stepped away from my Fitbit when I left it charging before a week-long trip and forgot to take it with me. This distance provided clarity on how the tracker was affecting me.
Section 1.1: Realizing the Impact of Disconnect
During my Fitbit-free week, I sensed a significant change in my workouts. Although I often lamented that a session "didn’t count" without tracking, I experienced reduced burnout, both physically and emotionally. Each morning, I awoke with renewed motivation to engage in exercise.
Previously, my Fitbit emphasized heart rate monitoring, which is known to be unreliable. Despite this, I believed it offered insights into my exertion levels. I spent entire workouts trying to maintain two high heart rate zones, convinced that anything less was insufficient. This mindset led to overexertion, running at unsustainable speeds, and lifting weights that were counterproductive. I fixated on a high score rather than creating a tailored regimen that suited my individual needs.
Ultimately, fitness trackers can only measure a limited range of metrics, none of which are particularly insightful during workouts. The issue lies not with the device, but with a misunderstanding of workout objectives. A Fitbit cannot accurately gauge muscle exertion or predict post-workout soreness, but our bodies can—if we learn to listen to them.
Section 1.2: The Disruption of Natural Cues
This leads to the main concern with fitness trackers: they encourage responses based on generalized guidelines instead of our body's specific signals. They remind us to stand, celebrate when we reach step goals, and display our heart rate continuously. Our bodies are intricate systems that recognize when we need to move or stretch. By relying on a fitness tracker designed for the masses, we lose awareness of our unique needs.
In my case, I suppressed these signals by setting unrealistic goals based on flawed metrics. I often aimed for exercise streaks, pushing myself to work out daily, regardless of my body's need for rest. While this obsession stemmed from personal tendencies, it was exacerbated by a device that meticulously logged my workouts.
It’s been a year since I set aside my Fitbit, and I'm still working to rebuild my connection with my body. Years of dependence on it have impaired my ability to recognize my needs.
The first video titled "What Medical Errors can Cause (HINT: it isn't good) - YouTube" explores the consequences of neglecting our health signals.
Section 1.3: The Flaws of Calorie Counting
My struggle continued with calorie counting. Although a contentious practice, I only began engaging with it after noticing the metric on my Fitbit. It was prominently displayed alongside my heart rate and step count. While it's simplistic to blame fitness trackers for calorie counting obsessions, they are symptomatic of a broader societal issue promoting under-eating. My Fitbit became a constant reminder of exceeding my caloric burn.
This fixation was compounded by the fact that fitness trackers can be inaccurate, with a 27% margin of error in calorie measurement. When I made dietary choices based on potentially erroneous data, I often found myself either overly hungry or too full, disregarding my body’s natural signals.
The second video titled "Take Control of Your Metabolic Health with Dr. Casey Means - YouTube" emphasizes understanding our body's needs beyond numbers.
Chapter 2: The Dangers of External Validation
Ultimately, this reliance on external data distorted my understanding of my physical and mental well-being. My Fitbit could not inform me when I was overexerting myself or lacking essential nutrients. It could only relay what I “should” be feeling, based on averages derived from algorithms. When my actual feelings didn’t align with what my Fitbit indicated, I felt like a failure.
This frustration manifested in various ways, particularly when I reviewed my average heart rate. Fitbit’s calculations placed my average in the "poor" category, regardless of my efforts or discipline. While this information might have been useful for a healthcare provider, I lacked the training to interpret it meaningfully. Instead, I fixated on that number, influencing my decisions—even when my body signaled fatigue.
In my quest for a healthier lifestyle, I unintentionally compromised my well-being. My obsession with daily health metrics eroded my mental and physical health. Some days, I found it difficult to walk from my bedroom to the living room, while others I was preoccupied with fitness influencers online. The constant availability of health data proved detrimental, and removing the tracker shifted my perspective on wellness overnight.
Fitness trackers are not inherently bad. When used thoughtfully, they can complement a well-rounded fitness strategy. However, if you, like me, find yourself focused on metrics rather than your body’s signals, it may be time to put the tracker down. Ultimately, there is no definitive way to "win" at fitness; exercise does not define our worth, and holistic health is not something quantifiable by an app.