Gruve thing

Gruve Thing

By Greg Sellnow

Here’s one of Gruve collaborator Andy Wood’s standard opening lines: “What’s the worst thing you can say to someone when they walk into your office?" Before I can think of something inane like, “You’ve got food in your teeth?” he answers for me. “Have a seat,” he says. He tells me this about 16 seconds after I have directed him to a conference room and asked him to—you guessed it—have a seat.

The whole point of the Gruve device, Wood says, is to remind its users to get up and move around, and at the end of the day offer them feedback on how they’ve done. So, I’ve failed my initial Gruve test question, but I am bound and determined to pass the life experience part of the exam.

Week One: Easing into it
This is my assessment week, when Wood has warned me not to get carried away with exercising. “Because if you do, that becomes your base activity level and you’ll have to work that much harder to meet your goals.” So, I use this as an excuse to hitch rides to work in the morning and watch Wild games while prone on the couch in the evening. When my mostly sedentary body cries out for some minimal exercise, I tell it to relax and have a Caribou mocha latte. “It’s your assessment week,” I say. “Life is good.”

Week Two: Shopping isn’t all bad
Show time. The work week begins on Monday, Dec. 18. It’s important to note the date because Christmas is less than a week away and, as usual, I’ve done no shopping whatsoever. It turns out that shopping, which I rank right down there with chipping ice off the driveway and burying dead cats on the Fun-O-meter, is actually good for something. I easily hit the target “green” zone for calories burned on my first two post-assessment week days, Friday and Saturday, by binge shopping with my three children. In fact, I nail my goals pretty much by shopping and doing little else in the way of physical activity . But the crash comes on Sunday, when I only make it to the “blue” (you almost made it) zone. Pride takes over on the holiday weekend and I hit my green zone every day through the end of the week, which includes Christmas. My top calories-burning day is 775.

Week Three: Walk, walk, and walk some more
I begin a pretty steady exercise regimen. I walk to work every day (a distance of about a mile) and walk home most evenings. I use the bathroom on the other end of the building at work. I get up frequently to look out the only public window in the newsroom. (To be fair I’ve always done this, especially when I’m trying to put off writing my column.) And, like a new convert to Stephenie Meyer novels, I tell everyone I come in contact with about my Gruve. I meet my green goal every single day, including New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day.

Week Four: Cooking is Gruve-y
This might seem counter-intuitive, but it turns out that cooking is good for Gruve-ing. The import thing is not how fast you move or how vigorously you move, just that you move—period. I enjoy cooking, especially for special occasions such as New Year’s Eve, and the more time I spend in the kitchen, I find, the easier it is for me to meet my green goal. Which is more difficult now because the Gruve, apparently not a dumb piece of plastic after all, has increased my green goal by about 100 calories after realizing I sandbagged the assessment week. Still, I hit my goal every day, except Sunday, when I couch potato it watching the Vikings game and working on newspaper stuff from home on my laptop.

Week Five: Getting attached to “G”
I’ve come to realize that you have to actually wear the Gruve to understand it. I try to tell people how it works and why it makes so much sense, and they just nod politely like I’m an Amway salesman or something and change the subject. But the Gruve and I—we’re tight. OK, I know this is going to sound creepy to non-Gruvers, but when I get up in the morning the first thing I do is clip G to the waistband in my underwear because I don’t want those calories I burn running up and down the stairs while I’m getting ready for work (don’t worry, there’s no one else in the house by now) and letting the dog out and ironing my shirt and heating water for my morning tea and making my instant oatmeal, all in my underwear, go to waste. G is the only thing that is with me all day long. It frowns red or yellow when I’m just not trying hard enough to get off my butt and move. It cheers me on when I hit blue, and congratulates me when I achieve my daily green diploma. Despite my enthusiasm, though, I miss my green goal twice, on Thursday and Saturday, when I only make it to blue.

Week Six: Nervous energy = Calories burned
My son is a high school hockey player. Worse, he’s a goalie. So, when he’s between the pipes I pace. Or sway. Or, when things are going badly, I leave the arena between periods and take long long walks. It turns out that this sort of activity, like cooking, is good for Gruve-ing. Now, when I go to hockey games I know I’ll have no trouble achieving green for the day. I hit my calorie burning peak on a game day in Albert Lea (913) and achieve my green goal every day this week.

Week Seven: The unthinkable occurs
Tragedy. I return home from a hockey game, take off my sweater and G tumbles to the floor like he’s been shot. I pick him up and he’s glowing green, which is good; it means there’s no brain damage. But something is wrong. G’s belt clip is broken. I check the Gruve Web site and discover that this is not an uncommon problem and that belt clip breaks are covered by G’s warranty. I send an e-mail to the people who make the Gruve and they respond quickly with detailed instructions on how to print out a FedEx pre-paid label and return G for repair. I’m without my Gruve for a week. Still, I maintain pretty much the same routine as before. So, I like to think I’m still achieving my goal. But I feel so naked without my Gruve.

Week Eight: Getting my Gruve back
Here’s something weird. When my Gruve was en route to the shop in Minnetonka, it managed to burn more than 600 calories and achieve green goal status. Congratulations, G. Well done. My Gruve arrives back home safe and sound on Friday, but I decide to start fresh on Monday with a new Gruve-y week.

Week Nine: Proud to be Green
I am faithfully wearing my Gruve as I write this. But my picky, overly demanding editor is bugging me to complete my journal and turn it in, so I’ll have to cut this off. In the seven full weeks I have worn the Gruve I’ve achieved green status all but four of the 49 days and I feel pretty good about myself. I’ve also lost four pounds, without restricting my food intake. So, there’s no telling what I might be able to accomplish with a few more months of Gruve-ing and maybe a little less bacon and a lot more leafy green vegetables. I Gruve on.