Time to take me to the vets

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With news that even pets now have their own electronic fitness tracking device technology, I thought I better get in on the trend before even bunnies and tortoises start overtaking me on the pavement and sporting skin so healthy and glowing you can see them in the dark.

With news that even pets now have their own electronic fitness tracking device technology, I thought I better get in on the trend before even bunnies and tortoises start overtaking me on the pavement and sporting skin so healthy and glowing you can see them in the dark.

The reality is I have owned a heart-rate tracking, steps counting, fitness wrist gadget for a year.

I’m not alone .

Three million were sold in the UK in 2016 and it was one of the most popular Christmas presents for adults.

In theory we should all, by now, be fit as a fiddle.

But I just use it as an expensive and irritating watch that tells me off about about three times a day for not standing enough .

He (I call him George) has given up on my ever completing my allotted steps or using the calorie counting functions and stopped mithering with alerts me some time ago - presumably stunned into silence by the extremes of my static, sedentary, office chair and rebellious brownie-eating lifestyle.

But now with February upon us and the new popularity of a device for fat puppies (FitBark among others..), I decided to get in with the rubber-watch wearing hordes with their multicoloured Christmas presents on their wrists (or furry bits) and actually attempt to get in my daily walks so too can feel years younger and wag my tail with glee.

Ah, the steps. Unless you are a walking/talking gym bunny, a postman, a power-walking parent, a nurse or that guy who checks the weather at the top of Helvellyn everyday, it is actually pretty tough to do 10,000 - it’s a lot!

If you like me you drive to work, walk two steps in and then get tied to your desk for an entire day - it feels like an achievement to get a coffee from five yards away.

I congratulate myself when I have got up to go for a wee, it’s practically a workout.

But my fitness tracker has proven with any shadow of a doubt that there is reason I cannot wear 99% of my jeans without a muffin top, I’m simply not moving anywhere near enough.

Safe to say the only thing lighter, one year on, is my bank balance. And I have a crick in my neck.

Time to take me to the vet?