Bernard O'Shea: The fact is I went a step too far trying to lose weight by walking

Bernard O Shea. Picture: Brian Arthur

I love useless facts. If you want the pants bored off you about the following: technology, cars, watches, The Beatles and a myriad of medical phenomena, then I'm the person that can make an uneventful day even more beige. But by far, my favourite and most boring topic of conversation would be myself.

Over the last decade, I have mentally drooled over the facts that I have made. With smartphones and watches, I can tell you the most precise details of the inner workings of my body. How many hours I've slept, my average constant heat rate. How many calories I've consumed, and my favourite - how many steps I've taken that day, week, and year.

I'm also genuinely disappointed when I fail to reach my 10,000 steps a day or my virtual goals. My iPhone awards me little cyber trophies that make me feel like I'm an athlete. For instance, last week, I won a lovely black and gold medal for working out (walking) for seven days on the trot. It was inscribed on the back "Earned by Bernard on the 25 September 2021."

It reminded me of when my primary school teacher gave me a medal for finishing fourth in The Cumann Na mBunscol 800m in Portlaoise. I knew she gave it to me out of pity, but I'll accept and practically live off any praise I get regardless of its basis in reality.

But if you think that intelligent tracking of our steps is a recent technology, think again. Swiss Watch Maker Abraham-Louis Perrelet invented the first pedometer in 1770. It was a self-winding watch "that wound when the wearer walked and then built another device, based on that watch, in 1777 that could measure walking distance" 

So, where did the 10,000 steps originate ?. According to an article written by Cara Rosenbloom for The Washington Post in 2019. "It grew out of the marketing campaign for a pedometer invented in 1965 by a Japanese professor of health science who believed walking 10,000 steps daily would help the Japanese people avoid obesity. The name of the pedometer was Manpo-Kei (10,000-step meter), and the ads for the device said, "Let's walk 10,000 steps a day!" More than 50 years later, the idea that adults need to walk 10,000 steps a day retains its power." A fact I wish I were aware of before I embarked on one of the most idiotic and embarrassing self-experiments.

Two years ago, in the middle of my mid-life crisis, I decided to beat the belly fat for the nineteenth time that year and get fit. I went for a run, and I dislocated my knee cap for the 3rd time.

While lying in bed in agony, I googled, 'Can you lose weight from walking?' Like a vision from God, the internet told me that If I walked 10,000 steps a day, I could lose 3,500 calories a week and 3,500 calories are equal to one pound of body weight.

Exasperated, I tried 'How do you lose weight quicker by walking?' However, Google only gave me satisfying answers based around terms like 'headspace', 'brisk' and the worst of all, 'in conjunction with a balanced diet. It was then I noticed a trend. If you want the crazy stuff on Google, you need to search from page ten onwards. Eventually, all roads led to weighted vests.

The idea is that if you carry extra weight, you burn more calories. I picked the most incredible looking one on Amazon. There was a picture of a man wearing one who looked like he could kill you if he shook your hand. The vest made him look like he was involved in special forces. It had 20 little pouches on it, each with a 4-oz weight in it. I shelved out €70 for it.

It was time for maths, a subject that I find not so much difficult as impossible. I calculated that I would be carrying an extra three stones on my usual walk with the vest fully loaded. I then figured that if I were to walk 10,000 steps with it on me, or roughly five miles, I would burn 1000 calories. I multiplied that by seven and divided it by 3,500 (how many calories in a pound) and bingo, two pounds a week.

The walking plan combined with eating sub-Saharan clay, eating all my calories at one sitting and drinking a gallon of water (a story for another day) was disastrous. It resulted in me wetting my pants in a Spar, ripping the skin from my neck and shoulders and violently getting sick on the side of the road for nearly a half-hour.

Two years later, that weighted vest now lies up against our shed door like a Victorian drunk after a heavy night out. I am still overweight, and I still dream of getting a six-pack before my 43rd birthday. But there is one significant difference.

Today I walked down by the Shannon river towards The Parteen Weir that straddles the county boundaries of Clare and Limerick. I was utterly alone and completely bowled over by the stunning views as I just stared out at the vast body of water. I could feel the haptic feedback from my watch pulsate my wrist. Its digital display reminded me, "Do you want to resume your walk ?" instead of been disgusted by the temporary loss of calorie-burning, I took my beloved Apple watch off.

It must be something that happens when you get older or pass the initial shock of turning forty, but I couldn't care anymore about how many calories I burn or how steep the gradient was or if my heart rate was in the zone for weight loss.

My daily walk has become my therapy session, and it's my version of a smoking break. So now, instead of collecting virtual medals, I turn off my phone and walk for an hour, knowing that no one, including myself, is gathering any facts, and that is a fact.