
For me, it was achieving my ideal body type through increased activity, closing my rings every day, getting all my health metrics into “optimal” zones and using that version of myself to improve other areas of life I thought were lacking - mainly my career. I spent many nights mining the depths of my iPhone’s Health app, wondering how I could use this data to be perfect. 165 calories, and you’ll close your move ring, Julia. If my Move ring wasn’t closed by 6 p.m., the watch would give me a nudge. The continued reminders hipped me to how perfectly I was moving my body and made me painfully aware of any shortcomings. I was enthralled by the notifications that urged me to set movement goals, the reminders to stand and the badges I got for hitting milestones, like my first strength workout or closing my rings. I first put on my Apple Watch when losing weight was my primary pursuit. “Sometimes people can become overly obsessed with the metrics, and that can exacerbate some of the triggers to developing an unhealthy relationship with fitness.” “When people’s mindset changes from viewing fitness as a healthy way of life to viewing fitness as an absolute must without room for adjustments, there tend to be physical and emotional consequences,” said Northwestern University’s Michele Kerulis, an expert in sports psychology and counseling, over email.

But just because it’s vital doesn’t mean it’s easy. So, if my body was optimal, I thought, maybe everything else would be, too.ĭeveloping a healthy relationship with fitness is vital for anyone looking to enhance their overall physical and mental well-being. All of it made me feel as if I wasn’t good enough. It didn’t help that several health issues kept me in and out of the hospital that year, fueling my anxiety about my body and well-being.

I was perpetually anxious, and I teetered on the edge of another depressive episode right as I switched jobs. I thought if I could push my health metrics, that level of optimization would flow into the rest of my life, which felt inadequate at the time. I became obsessed with quantifying myself. For example, if someone has a chronic condition such as migraines, they can track their sleep cycles to learn that they can avoid a headache when they have, say, nine and a half hours of sleep versus their usual seven. Some have simple metrics, such as a step pedometer that clips to your waistband, while others - like Oura rings, Garmins, Fitbits and Apple Watches - provide more nuanced insight into someone’s physiology.Įnthusiasts of quantifying maintain that paying attention to individual health data is how they achieve a state of nirvana. The amount of steps you take, the number of hours you sleep, the speed your heart beats - it’s all data, all information to tell you whether you’re the same as you’ve always been or whether your body is changing.įitness trackers like my Apple Watch are what generate the data, and each has its own gimmick. (Gallup said 10 percent were doing both.) Nineteen percent of the country said they were tracking their fitness through an app. A 2019 Gallup poll found that 19 percent of Americans - at the time, roughly 62.4 million people - were using a fitness tracker, while 15 percent had done so in the past. Millions of Americans are pursuing perfection by quantifying themselves. You’ve passed your exercise goal, Julia - and the day has just begun! The ring spun clockwise with a fiery green swirl and congratulated me on the achievement with this pop-up message: By 9 a.m., my watch had alerted me that my exercise ring was closed. We hopped off a few stops early to walk a mile to the office. Soon, my partner and I were out the door and onto the train. Every step, even those paced inside my apartment, counted. I tossed my digital companion aside while I showered, but it was affixed back in position before the water stopped dripping from the faucet.

Snug against my wrist, my watch kept me company as I bounced from my bed, into the kitchen to turn on the tea kettle, and back into my bedroom to get dressed for the day’s first workout: power yoga. It was 6:02 a.m., and nothing else mattered. If I didn’t start tracking soon, I wouldn’t get credit for the calories I burned or the minutes I stood - the core metrics tracked by Apple’s signature “ring-closing” feature. I slapped the device onto my wrist before I washed my face, brushed my teeth or checked my phone. My coffin-shaped acrylics crawled from underneath the covers, searched for the stop button and quickly found my Apple Watch.
