Anne and I are wrestling in mortal combat to see who can walk the furthest.
Nah. Scrap that. We've both got FitBit watches that track your steps, calories and other healthy nonsense. And each day it uploads your stats so you can see what a calorie burning superstar, or sloth like layabout you are.
I've set myself the goal of 250,000 steps in February, and as I approach the half way mark I'm a little bit under target, which is why if you walk past our house at night, you may see a weird man walking purposefully from room to room trying to reach his daily goal.
Of course we all predict within a year or so Apple will have an all-consuming product that will supersede the FitBit. It will track my dementia, daily rude thoughts, bone marrow strength and how often I say fuck each week ... all with a groovy cool interface.
As for this ugly eyesore. The watch rubs on my wrist and that's the product of 6 weeks. I'm switching to the other wrist for the next few days. I'm sure it will clear up by then!