Last spring I treated myself to a Fitbit. In the intervening months I've become quite accustomed to referring to it often throughout my daily activities. In fact, I had become a tad obsessive about maintaining accurate accounts on my Fitbit. I disliked removing it, even for the necessary battery charging intervals.
So when I received an email last Thursday that Fitbit has become part of Google, I faced a moment of truth. How committed am I, really, to waging my individual war against Big Tech? It was a difficult decision, but I finished my weekly stats as of last night. This morning, I removed my Fitbit from my wrist and stuck it in a drawer. I also removed the app from my phone.
I comfort myself with the conclusion that it's probably healthier for me to distance myself from compulsive health monitoring, anyway. I have enough information on how many calories I burn in a day, how far I walk in a week, and the stats regarding my resting heart rate. There is no earthly reason why Google should receive this information, and I'm determined they will not have it.
So my focus on disconnection from Big Tech wherever it is practical and doable continues. I'm starting two new books today, following my pattern in recent years of reading one fiction and one non-fiction work simultaneously. As a lifelong reader and book lover, it is a soul-satisfying experience to hold a physical book in my hands, to turn the paper pages, to measure my progress with a physical bookmark. Because reading has always been such an enjoyable tactile experience, since the advent of e-readers I consistently have read one book in paper form and the other in electronic format.
This time, both books I'm beginning are physical paper books. Google, Apple, and Amazon will just have to wonder what I'm reading.
