The scale is one, the mirror and tape is another, not to mention the calipers (I have a lot of junk, don't I?) Now we have-- the Gowear Fit! Yesterday's data presented in nifty bar format tells me I--
--burned 2427 calories (about 80 less than I was shooting for)
--slept 7.25 hours more or less straight
--spent 70 minutes in moderate activity and none in vigorous, though, I personally, experienced some of it as vigorous
--took 6811 steps
I also have a modest armband shaped indentation on my arm and I became aware that it doesn't go well with the dinner dresses I was trying on. (It's okay-- I'm not enough of a geek to wear it with dress-up gear.)
The Fit is supposed to get more accurate the more you wear it-- it gets to "know" your body as it fills in the blanks when you're not wearing it. The true test will be to see whether the projected deficit equals actual weight loss. I do need to move a little more to hit my target-- the above represented 27 minutes at the gym, a stroll after dinner and some modest tidying work here at home. I thought I'd make up the last couple hundred in RMR at the end of the day but evidently I need to go around the block twice. But I gather that's the whole idea-- to eke a little more activity out of you.
Next post I'll tell you what I know about the technology and limitations in case you're eyeing one. But in the meantime:
It comes from one of the processes of making woollen cloth. After it had been woven, the cloth still contained oil from the fleece, mixed with dirt. It was cleaned in a fulling mill, but then it had to be dried carefully or it would shrink and crease. So the lengths of wet cloth were stretched on wooden frames, and left out in the open for some time. This allowed them to dry and straightened their weave. These frames were the tenters, and the tenter hooks were the metal hooks used to fix the cloth to the frame. At one time, it would have been common in manufacturing areas to see fields full of these frames (older English maps sometimes marked an area as a tenter-field). So it was not a huge leap of the imagination to think of somebody on tenterhooks as being in an state of anxious suspense, stretched like the cloth on the tenter. The tenters have gone, but the meaning has survived.
That's my educational post for the month. Now I can go back to droning about my jeans size (the 14 at Jones New York was snug, but it didn't gap at the waist. I was seriously considering it.)