When Andrew first suggested I purchase a fitness tracker, I wasn’t keen on the idea. Sure, I was bewailing a minor weight-gain and had sought his opinion on the matter. But no one likes to be the receiver of home truths.

‘You go to the gym,’ he ventured a tentatively. ‘But I’m guessing on your down days, you aren’t active enough.’

‘I walk the dog! And cycle”

Yes, but you need to be doing ten thousand steps a day.’

Ten thousand. That’s a lot of steps. I checked online. Sure enough, he was right. But, how was I going to fit that into my lifestyle? See, here’s the thing about me, I read, I write, I learn a language, I hang out on social media, I have a passion for watching TV series. I didn’t need a Fitness tracker to tell me what I already knew. There isn’t much calorie burn in that list of activities.

‘You can buy them online.’ Andrew added.

No. I still wasn’t convinced.

‘Download the app.’

‘An app?

Yes, you can sync the tracker with your iPhone.’

Okay, now he had my attention. You see, as well as the above list of favourite activities, I do have a slight (cough) penchant for Apple products. I checked the App Store. Read some reviews. Thought about my lifestyle. You see, I’m not getting any younger. My best chance of ageing gracefully is to keep moving and to maintain a healthy weight. No point winning the Man Booker if I’m too decrepit to totter onto the stage. Actually, there would be a point. And there are always those motorised scooter things. But seriously, I thought, maybe I should give this tracker a go?

I purchased a MisFit Flash online. It wasn’t expensive. The app looked fun and I didn’t have to wear a horrible plastic wristband.

I could clip it discreetly to my clothes.

Now, here’s another thing about me. No matter how reluctant I am in the beginning, once I decide upon a course of action, I follow with the zeal of a new convert. The fitness tracker was no exception. I set it up the moment it arrived in the post. Went to the gym, realised it wasn’t enough exercise, took the dog for a walk, showered, watched TV, walked around the house in a warm glow of purposeful activity. After putting the washing away, I started getting ready for bed. I clipped the tracker to my undies (didn’t want to miss a single step), had a snack, put the dog out, cleaned my teeth (so much movement in my bedtime routine). Then, disaster struck. I went to the loo (I know, too much information), I rose, heard a ping, flushed the toilet. Hang on, where’s my fitness tracker?

I turned on the lights, groped about on the floor, moved brushes, bins, toilet roll holders, searched in the hallway.

Nothing. It was gone.

‘Andrew, I’ve lost my fitness tracker.’

‘You can’t have. The thing only arrived three hours ago.’

‘I think, I’ve flushed it down the toilet.’

We went to bed in silence. Nothing like flushing eighty dollars down the loo to dampen the romantic atmosphere. I woke the next morning, hoping daylight would bring the lost tracker to light. No such luck. I had to face the ugly truth. My new fitness tracker was now making its way through the Melbourne’s sewerage system.

I cycled into the city for my Food Handling Course, acutely aware of every movement not being tracked. You see, once you’ve tasted the fruits of knowledge, there is no going back. I needed a new tracker. Immediately. Once the course was finished, I headed straight over to Dick Smith’s. The young store assitant showed a distinct lack of sympathy for my situation. Added to which, he didn’t seem to have any enthusiasm for his products. I felt my stress levels rising. I needed someone to talk me through the situation.

Fortunately, I found the right girl in JB Hi-Fi.

Look, I’m not saying gender had anything to do with it but the young woman who served me showed an appropriate level of sympathy for a middle aged woman who had just flushed her new fitness tracker down the toilet. She understood that I didn’t want to wear an ugly plastic wrist band, or have to worry about charging another appliance. As an added bonus, she also informed me a bra was a safer item of clothing than knickers when it came to attaching a fitness tracker.

She made the sale.

Now I’m back home, setting up another fitness tracker. I bought a Jawbone UP MOVE (what’s with fitness tracker names?). The App looks good. I’ve clipped it to my belt and it’s time to start moving. Trouble is, I’m exhausted. Having earned myself a Food Handling Certificate and set up two fitness trackers, I can’t summon the energy to exercise. Or make a healthy meal. I think I’ll have a quick snack for tonight, blob on the couch, watch another episode of The Village, and leave all fitness aspirations until tomorrow.