The Irony of Fitness Trackers: Are We Walking to Nowhere?

Tracking our way through fitness, one existential crisis at a time.

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Ever found yourself obsessively checking a wristband to see if your heart is still beating after a marathon session of Netflix and chill?

Congratulations, you’ve been seduced by the siren call of the fitness tracker.

You know, that snazzy piece of tech that’s supposed to transform us from couch potatoes into, well, slightly more informed couch potatoes with data.

Why Do We Even?

Here’s the thing: we’re in an era where even our watches judge us.

They buzz and beep, not to remind us of our human connections, but to tell us we’ve been sitting for an hour, and apparently, that’s the new smoking.

The irony? We bought them.

We strapped these judgmental digital overloads onto our wrists willingly.

The Cult of the ‘10,000 Steps’

Remember when walking was just a way to get from point A to B? Me neither.

Now, it’s all about hitting that magical number: 10,000 steps.