OPTIMIZED
2. BodyClock
That evening, she opens Facebook for the umpteenth time since practice began—and shuts it right away. Anything she’d post would be a lie, she thinks; or worse still, honesty would surely give her friends reason to wonder how insignificant her life was. She isn’t in the mood for inventing the usual platitudes about how awesome her practices have been lately, how happy she is (smiley face), how she is having the best time of her life, here at UM; how every day brings new challenges and improvements. Instead, she surfs some gymnastics sites for inspiration; and on her second link, a pop-up advert springs into view. Serendipity, she thinks, eyeing the text.
BodyClock.
Your personalized personal training system for only $199.99!
Tired of the standard routines? But can’t afford a personal trainer? With this simple wristband system and a suite of apps, you’ll achieve the performance you’ve been longing for. The BodyClock TM wristband system monitors your vital signs, from heartbeat to blood oxygenation to muscle tone, and much, much more. Software, accessories and apps included.
You can also benefit from extensive hints and tips from our wide social network of BodyClock TM enthusiasts.
Buy online now at <here>
Keep on improving!
Yes. Kira’s certain that her training could be improved—must be improved—and perhaps this could be a step in the right direction. And certainly, at $100 an hour she could never begin to afford a personal trainer from her college fund. But she has a laptop, she has a smartphone, she has a credit card which is not entirely maxed out, and $199.99 sounds like it could be a decent outside bet. She clicks the link, and a webpage opens. Tentatively, she explores.
BodyClock (TM), it seems, is a watch-like item that integrates nicely with most smartphones (including, she notes, her own model) and any laptop. From what she can gather, the basic version captures, records, analyses, and feeds back a lot of information. Some or all of this is then collated back to the cloud, where comparisons are made against both idealized models and actual other human beings. Performance improvement is guaranteed within a couple of weeks, it seems, in a ‘customer journey towards optimized levels of fitness’. Optimization is unique to the individual, too, based on personal inputs and personal goals.
The BodyClock device synchs messages too, apparently, and as an added bonus it even tells the time.
Kira clicks through, examining the device’s specs. She feels her eyes glazing over at the technicalities of it all. She clicks through to the ‘accessories’ page.
There must be a hundred separate items here, she thinks, scrolling quickly down. There are hardware add-ons, other wearables, software apps, some free and some not; ‘the potential to build a fully optimized system’ are the words that keep recurring. And, they claim, their cloud interface accepts data from other apps and sources, ‘for holistic cross-platform meta-optimization.’ Not just a simple wristwatch and health monitor, then. Kira is intrigued. She is not technical but she has an instinct for what works, and she thinks this might just work. And what has she got to lose, aside from $199.99? She clicks the basic starter pack into her shopping cart and starts to check out.
She imagines her poor credit card groaning with dismay, but her luck is in today, and the transaction goes through just fine. An email confirmation will sent shortly.
Kira goes to her email, and there it is. Her BodyClock (Starter Pack) is shipping now, and with luck, it will be with her the day after tomorrow. She feels a tremor of excitement.
While she’s on, Kira clicks through the link that says ‘Activate Your Account Now’, and begins to key in her details. Password: the usual. Email: confirm; double confirm. Age: 19. Sex: female. Height, weight, body shape, measurements; she diligently fills out every single piece of information, and presses ‘save’. Up pops a profile window. She double checks all is correct, and presses ‘confirm’. It asks her to choose a username for her profile; she parks that for later.
The browser takes her to another window, headed ‘Optimization Goals’. Apparently, she reads, the system needs precise input in order to know what is ‘good’, specifically for her. It reminds her that personalization is the key, and this is how the apps get tailored for specific individuals and specific sports. There are dozens of options to consider here.
But the basic drop down under ‘Goal of Optimization’ is simple enough: she chooses gymnastics. The rest of it will require a little more thought.
Tuesday plods by. Kira fidgets through a monster lecture class, a lab session, and a discussion group that brings her close to stabbing herself in the eye with her pen just to wake the group up. Everybody seems to be talking in a foreign language today, and whenever she speaks she catches Mel listening to her attentively, and loses her train of thought at once. Optimization is on her mind, and she wonders when the BodyClock will show up. She hopes she hasn’t wasted her precious money.
The highlight of the day is a snatched ten minutes with Jack. They share the usual gripes and she revs herself up for another push in practice to qualify for varsity. If he weren’t there to reassure her she could make it, she’d probably have slunk off to the library for good by now.
But he sends her off with a kiss that could light up Milwaukee, and with that surge of extra energy she pulls off one of the best routines of her life. Coach Jeffries almost smiles at her on the horse; but there’d been that tiny wobble on the dismount...
Never mind. Not bad, but realistically still not at Mel’s level, or even a couple of the nearly-Mels of the group, like Ella and Jen. Kira feels the need for company, but Jack’s stuck tonight at his history seminar. She trudges back to the dorm, wondering whether to call home and unburden herself with Mom and Dad, but—no, she can’t disillusion them now, so early in the year. Just the books tonight, and maybe a tablespoonful of Chunky Monkey out of her stash, if she can keep from eating the whole pint, and a good long sleep.
And there it is, the very next morning: a neat little parcel with her name on it, the BodyClock logo prominent on the box. She feels almost unreasonably excited. She cradles the box in her arms for a minute, anticipating, and then opens it.
It is, as advertised, ridiculously simple to set up, and with a rare free period until noon, she does so.
“What’s that on your wrist, Kira? A new watch?” They are chatting in the corridor, and Mel is intrigued. It’s not that Kira doesn’t get on with Mel, besides the unreasonable seething jealousy in the pit of her stomach. There’s nothing wrong with Mel besides the fact that she’s too damn good at what she does, thinks Kira.
“Kind of,” she replies, holding up her wrist. “It’s a sort of health and fitness monitor.”
“Can I see?”
“Sure.” Kira shows Mel the screen. “There’s the icon for heart rate—it takes your pulse day and night right through your skin. Blood pressure, exercise levels; everything. It can automatically detect when you’re walking, running, climbing the stairs, cycling—any kind of exercise. See? Steps taken, calories burned, skin temperature, perspiration, sleep...”
“Wow,” says Mel. “You really are serious about this, aren’t you? What else can it do?”
Kira is a quick study, and she’s grasped many of the features already. “Embedded electrochemical sensors. It analyses the biomarkers in your sweat. Electrolytes, sodium, lactates, proteins, all that stuff. Too much sugar shows up like a big red light. You get an ongoing diagnosis of the whole physical state. But there’s more. All that gets sent—um, somewhere—into the cloud, and then there’s some sort of algorithmic software that can analyze the data. So you get personalized recommendations for your diet, workout, exercise regime—anything at all to do with your body. Small steps that add up.”
Mel’s mouth has dropped open either in astonishment or boredom, Kira can’t quite tell. Conscious that she sounds like she’s memorized the manual, but guiltily proud to have something Mel doesn’t, Kira stifles a grin. “Oh, and it’s got a built in alarm clock too.”
That night she dutifully checks in with mom and dad. She reassures them all is well, that she is attending all her classes, studying hard, and she tells them she’s bought something to help her with her gym routines too. It’s an investment in her future, she explains, a training aid. She avoids the word ‘technology’, which she knows from long experience will only bring tuts and disapprovals.
Later, Kira shows off her new toy to Jack, proudly repeating the manual’s mantras and pointing out the main apps on her smartphone. She can tell he’s intrigued, but his mind very rarely stays focused for long.
“I want to make varsity. I need to make varsity,” she says. “It’ll help me improve, get fitter.”
He kisses her, long and deep and slow. “How could you possibly be any ‘fitter’? You’re perfectly ‘fit’ as you are, little miss sexy. No improvement needed.”
Kira punches him gently in the chest and then settles into his embrace. “Literally fitter! You know, athletically speaking.”
“I’m loving ‘athletically’, too. So ‘anything at all to do with your body’, right?” he grins. “Can it monitor this?” He has his hand inside her vest, and he strokes her breast. “Or this, perhaps?” Jack playfully squeezes a nipple, and Kira feels herself beginning to melt. “Or this? D’you think it can tell you’re getting turned on?” With his other hand he reaches down to Kira’s moist and welcoming pussy, and she closes her eyes, relishing the moment.
Soon she has forgotten all about the BodyClock, and is lost in the familiar joy of his touch.