Elegy for a Dead UP Band—My 10,000-Step Buddy Who Has Tragically Abandoned Me
My UP Band turned against me this week: It lights up, but the blinking lights do not correspond to any functions. It charges, but it is not recognized by its application. It resets, but will not sync to show any past or present results. I got so desperate I cleared all of my data in hopes that might fix something, erasing all record of the 50 zillions steps I have put in for this thing. At that point, all social contact with the Social Diet team—the type of social contact that involves sitting alone and typing inane comments into my smart phone, that is—ceased.
I had heard about reliability problems so I halfway expected this breakdown and was not shocked. I was surprised by how much I miss it. It’s like I’ve lost my cell phone or something. Not having it has also made me appreciate even more what it did for me. If you want a definition of human fulfillment, it’s waiting until evening, before supper but after all workouts, to download the day’s activity and see the “extra” calories you have earned. I also miss seeing a teammate have a good day and being able to leave a smiley-face-touchdown-thingy “feeling on their move,” or sympathize when someone only logged 3 hours of sleep, which if you think about it borders on creepy information, but still. I guess I took all that for granted.
Now, I’m waiting for a new one. The company is good about replacing faulty bands, and they’re doing that for me. But I have some reservations. Do I want to keep putting myself out there, nurturing a relationship with something that may only falter again and break my heart… or should I just move on? I’d say I don’t know the answer yet, but, since the replacement is on its way, I’m sure I’ll get over the nerves, let down my defenses, and, like a fitness prisoner, renew my vows with my electronic bracelet.