Deeper than sense
Ever since Peter introduced me to the pre-installed app in my phone, I’ve had more than half an eye on my daily step count.
I wish this weren’t the case. I’m a flaneur by nature and step-counting is hardly of the ethos. But it’s also in my nature to be quite obsessive, and anything involving personal data capture appeals to me on a level deeper than sense.
Last night, I knew I’d be walking from our home in the West of the city to a bar in the East and then back again. This is a longer-than-usual walk so I felt confident of wracking up around 16,000 steps and being able to say something triumphant along the lines of “who, precisely, is your daddy?”
Imagine my despondency then, when on the way home in the early hours of this morning, I look to the app to marvel at my step-based treasure only to be met with the paltry number 1,700.
What Peter didn’t tell me is that the bloody thing resets at midnight. I suppose now this should have been obvious, but I hadn’t thought of it. Modern life is cruel.
Still, the 5,000 steps I technically earned before breakfast this morning can hardly be complained about. Now then. Where do I cash them in?