Feed the Beast!

It's amazing how obsessed by numbers I have become fellow travellers. It used to be how many doughnuts could I get away with eating in public, now it is how many calories am I consuming.
I am not a mathematician by any means (just ask the Year 8 Maths class I had to cover last week) but I am seeing numbers everywhere I go.

I have Tania scales that give me numbers up the wazoo. Some of them (well, let's be honest, most of them) I do not understand.
I have a Polar HRM that tells me what my heart is doing, calories I have burned and what percentage was fat and cardio.

BUT! Fellow travellers my Nemesis is that small insidious device they call a "Fitbit". This small but perfectly formed gadget sucks you in and bleeds you dry. It taunts you, laughs in your face and will not rest until you feed it. It feeds on numbers, thousands of them. When you walk you feed it. When you sleep it ingests your numbers. You spend your day's feeding this contraption and woe betide you if you haven't given it enough steps, because then fellow traveller, then you have to finish feeding the beast.

When I download my fitbit numbers and realise that not enough calories have been burned, not enough steps taken, it's then that this little contrivance sucks me in... "no" I say to long suffering hubby "I can't go to bed, I only have 1000 more steps, I just need to burn 100 more calories" and I run around the lounge room until that insidious gizmo is fed. Yes I may look like a fool, but I am feeding the beast, becoming the person inside and travelling closer to the best me!
It's then that you realise the fight is lost, give in to the obsession and embrace the numbers, because they my fellow travellers are the key to our conundrum