Finally, a surefire way to lose weight

I’m proud to announce that I have just entered my 27th year of trying to lose 5 pounds. Not many fatties have the perseverance to keep trying to lose 5 pounds, and failing, for 27 consecutive years, but I do.

In honor of this milestone, my wife bought me a Fitbit wristband, which miraculously monitors how many steps you take each day. And as a bonus, among other things, it also lets you know how long you sleep at night, including light sleep versus deep sleep.

“How does it know?” I asked my wife as I slipped it on, thinking about the old joke about how the thermos keeps cold liquids cold and hot liquids hot.

“Don’t ask,” she replied. “Just start walking and sleeping.”

So I did. The first day I happened to have a golf game. No cart for me. On the first tee, I sliced my drive into the next fairway.

“Tough luck,” said one of my playing partners. “But I think it’s playable.”

“Are you kidding?” I replied happily as I headed right while everyone else was walking straight. “That’s about 220 extra steps for me. A few more shots like that and those 5 pounds will disappear once and for all.”

At the end of the round, I consulted my Fitbit and announced that I had walked 10,464 steps, which is the equivalent of about 5 miles. If it wasn’t for a couple of straight drives, I could have made 12,000.

Meanwhile, I noticed I had a Fitbit friend request. Matilda (not her real name, fortunately), had recently shown me her Fitbit bracelet and encouraged me to get one. She had requested we become “friends” and electronically (don’t ask how) share our exercise and sleep information. I readily agreed.

I ran into her husband in downtown San Francisco a few days after I got my new Fitbit. “Matilda told me this morning how you slept last night,” he said, a bit grumpily. “It’s not something I really need to know. Classic TMI.”

“If it makes you feel better,” I replied, “I don’t think I really slept 8 hours and 42 minutes, like the Fitbit said. “And I definitely woke up more than three times.”

I started to compare my sleep with Matilda’s, but he didn’t seem interested in that, either. In fact, he didn’t even care that his very athletic wife didn’t take as many steps as I did on that particular day. So I tried not to gloat.

“I’ll be going to bed late tonight,” I shouted as he walked away. “Matilda will let you know if my deep sleep increases!”

I watched him take his steps, sadly noting that they were lost forever because he had no Fitbit wristband to count them. Meanwhile, I had to get back to my office, and it was 3 miles, or 6,600 steps away. I thought about an Uber or taxi, and then I thought about my 5 pounds. 6,600 steps later, I was behind my desk.

The next morning, after noting that I had slept six hours and 55 minutes (with 3 hours and 13 minutes of deep sleep), I eagerly stepped on the scale to note how much weight I had lost.

“HOW COULD I GAIN A POUND?” I cried to my wife as I stepped on and off the scale to double-check. “I took over 24,000 steps in the last two days!”

“Maybe it’s because you ate like a pig last night, and had two beers and a glass of wine?” she smugly noted.

“I was celebrating my impending weight loss,” I explained, knowing she wouldn’t understand. “I was sure the Fitbit wristband was the final piece of the puzzle.”

Apparently, there’s more to it than just putting on the wristband. It’s been about three weeks now, and my 5 pounds are still sitting happily in my belly. I’ve stopped monitoring my sleep, because it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. But I’m still counting my steps.

As I write this on a weekday evening, I’m checking my activity. And I’m proud to announce that I have taken 1,158 steps today, meaning I’m pretty sure I’ll break my three-week record for all-time fewest steps in a day.

Gotta celebrate that with an enormous plate of food and a couple of beers. And while I’m at it, I might as well throw in a celebration of my 27th consecutive year of trying, and failing, to lose 5 pounds.

I watched him take his steps, sadly noting that they were lost forever because he had no wristband to count them.