High-Tech Walking

Here's my idea of the perfect exercise machine: it looks like a stationary bike, but with way more dials, wires and digital readouts. You input the workout you want--how hard, how long, how many calories burned--and turn the thing on. Then you walk away. The ideal Quittner exercise machine exercises by itself while Quittner enjoys the fat-melting, cardiac-strengthening benefits--possibly sitting in a comfortable chair drinking his favorite concoction of lime juice, brown sugar and rum.

By now you can see why I have made so little headway in the many exercise regimens I have attempted in my calorie-packed life. I have a bad attitude. This is why my butt is racing my gut for the floor.

Still, from time to time, I go through periods of self-doubt, which lead to short bursts of self-improvement. During my latest attack, I came across a clever bit of exercise-related digital technology that might hold me over until someone invents an automatic exerciser. It's a beeper-size, clip-on device known as the Digi-Walker. Its function is Zen simple: step counting. Your goal is to walk 10,000 paces a day, as measured by the Digi-Walker. While there are plenty of cheaper pedometers that measure motion and extrapolate steps, I liked the elegant design of this one enough to pay the difference. (Products in the Digi-Walker line range from $25 for a bare-bones model that just counts steps to $35 for the deluxe edition, which, at the touch of a button, also converts steps to miles and calories burned and comes with a built-in stopwatch for those who feel obliged to set a more vigorous pace.) Of course, you could do this mentally: 10,000 steps = 5 miles = 500 calories, roughly.

I got the cheapest model online at https://digiwalker.com . It's made by a Japanese company called Yamax and distributed in the U.S. by a Kansas City, Mo., outfit called New Lifestyles. It arrived in the mail a few days later with a little instruction booklet that explained how to calibrate the unit to my stride. That took about five minutes. There was nothing more to do but clip it to my belt and start walking.

Since it was Thursday, the first thing I did was waddle down the hall to the place where Barbara puts out a bowl of chocolates, grab a fistful of Butterfingers and Special Darks, and then hotfoot it back to my desk. Three hundred paces! This was going to be easy. Unfortunately, by the end of the day, I had racked up only 3,000 steps. I resolved the next day to walk to the pizza place at lunch rather than order in, and I managed to boost my total to 5,000 paces. Within three days, I was obsessed with walking--I kept glancing furtively at the little digital readout at my waist as if it were the score in a pinball game. By adding a walk to and from the train station, avoiding the subway, I was able to make my 10,000 steps a day. Was I getting in shape? It was too early to tell.

Then disaster struck. It was Saturday morning. I decided to take the dog and my two-year-old to the park--a big mistake, since they both need to be held. At some point, one of them kicked off the Digi-Walker somewhere in the tall grass. I called the folks at New Lifestyles, who told me that losing one's Digi-Walker is such a common problem that they're going to introduce a model that comes in tennis-ball yellow. I can't wait. I've probably logged 20,000 steps just looking for mine.

Any questions for Quittner? E-mail him at jquit@well.com