Big Brother is Watching you… Introducing my FitBit

That sounds far ruder than it should. No no, don’t leave. I can explain!

My FitBit is a bracelet. You wear it 24 hours a say and it records every move you make. Did I mention that you don’t take it off?

20130722-213159.jpg

I ought to quantify a little bit further. I’m not on some kind of electronic security tag, but have bought a device which is designed to track just how much I actually move in a day. It’s like a pedometer in bracelet form which also synchs to my laptop wirelessly, and monitors how I sleep. All this monitoring then gives me some very pretty graphs and is trying to tempt me to hand over an extra £40 per year for even prettier graphs. For a numbers nerd like me, that is really rather tempting, but having just paid out £80 for the device, the graphs will have to wait. For now.

Why is this useful? Well, after much moaning (on here, on Facebook, to my husband) about being on a low carb diet, I chucked it all in, ate some cheesecake and downloaded MyFitnessPal and just went in for the balanced 1200 calorie diet with a decent recording of exercise. But the exercise needed to be recorded properly (read: without me cheating) so when biking & walking, I have the free app Endomondo linked into My Fitness Pal which records my route, calories & hydration needed. Then for general movement and BMR I have this funky little bracelet that tells MyFitnessPal exactly how many steps I’ve taken, and how active I am at any particular point during the day.

Essentially, I have no way of cheating. This is good. Because I diet like a child gives up sweets.

So how did I offset my measly 1200 calories with exercise today? (The more you move, the more you can eat. It really is carrot on a stick!). Well, the kids and I rode the bikes to and from school (430 extra noms), then after school we did an hour and a half at the roller disco hall where we opted in for the 30 minute lesson. I can officially stop! Without falling on my arse! And we started going backwards. And yes, I am just as happy that I can go backwards as my seven year old is. I don’t care. This is progress! I am one tiny wobbly step closer to derby! And, to top it all off, 90 minutes of whooping about, crouching, balancing on one leg, playing catch with beach balls and making snakey backwards moves burnt off 1200 cals! Result!

And just look at how happy they are!

big3

I’m not going to mention that my thighs feel like the Spanish Inquisition has had a team building day out on them. If they were possibly hurting, that would be because of the skating squats we were doing all in the name of ‘balance’!

Advertisements

Becoming ‘Ruby Doom’

There. I said it. I’m hell bent on getting into Roller Derby and the first step towards that is naming myself (and learning to skate without breaking bits of me – I’m still a bit nervy. Four weeks on, my elbow is pretty much in full working order, but it takes 6 weeks for 50% of the bone to reform, so I’m not quite there yet – if I fall over now, I’m essentially buggered).

But I needed more progress than the hour each week of practice we’re getting alongside the kids – the kids are getting better weekly and TinyPants is becoming a little wheeled hell raiser (I’m so proud!). I tried to get LSH to come out skating on Saturday night, but he wasn’t keen. So instead I’ve moved forward mentally with a name. It had to have a link to the hair – I’ve had red red red hair for coming up on two years now and it’s become something of a trademark.

Link this to some of my more morbid tendencies (hence the Ruby Gloom reference) and I got it.

20130428-224235.jpg

With my adventure time nails, freshly dyed pillar box hair, I present to you Ruby Doom – fresh meat in training. Mother. Teacher. Insufferable geek. Future loyalty card holder for A&E.

I’m going to steal a Yoda line here without a trace of shame:

Do, or do not do, there is no try.

And with that, I’m ready for another week. Bring it on life.