defending my indulgences

Justifying my penchant for taking food pictures and my use of the Sportstracker App has become my new preoccupation. It started when my husband told me about an interview he had seen with a man who has created some sort of Sports Watch that tracks everything: miles, calories, heart-rate, respiration, hydration, frustration and so on. The watch will even offer verbal encouragement. (Personally, I would pee my pants if some disembodied voice said “Good Job!”–especially since I like to pretend that I’m invisible when I jog.) Among the interviewer’s questions was one that went something like this: “Isn’t that self-indulgent? Like posting a picture of your lunch on Facebook?” Of course, when my spouse remarked that he thought of me when he heard that question, I started babbling my defense. I rushed to explain that the App lets me bargain with myself about running just a little farther if the time is between minutes, or for a just a little longer if the distance is some weird fraction. Then I stammered my rationale for taking pictures of food that we make or that is beautiful. The photos are a record of accomplishment! Tom smiled and backed away mumbling something about hitting a nerve. Come back, you chicken! I have my arguments!

What I should have said is that critiques like that say more about the critic than the activity. Anyway, I then saw a reference to this study: The flash diet: Taking photos of meals helps slimmers lose weight.

So there, self-indulgent critic!  I’m ready for you next time.


One thought on “defending my indulgences

  1. I use map my fitness to track my “runs” (is it really a run if you’re puttin’ down 12 minute miles, or is that merely a “jog?) and I do use the disembodied voice, though not on the encouraging sayings setting, only for distance and pace. I smiled when I read what you’d do if a voice out of nowhere told you, “good job!” I have to admit to jumping out of my running shoes and frantically looking over my shoulder when the nice lady says, “distance, 1 mile; time, 12 minutes and 14 seconds.” It’s not even 6 a.m., it’s barely light out, the street is deserted, and I’m bouncing along, laughing at myself for forgetting (again) that when I go to work out, I’m never really alone!

    Liked by 1 person

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