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In Which I Bug MyselfTracking my calorie burn in real time.

By Amanda SchafferPosted Wednesday, Nov. 7, 2007, at 7:22 AM ET

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Outside, it was pouring. I had to get to Columbia Medical School for a lecture, which meant switching trains several times—now at least I figured I'd have proof of how taxing city schleps can be. Sitting on the train, running through the rain, meeting up with friends, dropping in to an art opening … It wasn't bad to feel that every moment was somehow tallied. It's nice to get credit just for existing

At home again, I slipped the bugg off my arm and plugged it in for the day's results. I discovered that gym machines indeed should not be trusted. I'd burned no more than 5 calories a minute working out, plus 3.7 calories a minute for the push-ups, 3.6 calories a minute running up subway stairs, 1.7 calories a minute pacing the platform, and 1.4 calores a minute sitting on the train, whether reading sci-fi or staring up at personal-injury lawyer ads. (So much for more calories for the tedium or stress of the trip.) My friend's art opening consumed 1.7 calories a minute, more than walking around at home, maybe because the room was hot and crowded, and I was navigating while tipsy on two pink drinks. The data were almost a microdiary of the day. I was already hooked on my own read-out and hungry for an even finer-grained portrait—what about the little energy spikes of chewing, sneezing, opening and closing my umbrella, blinking, yawning, or laughing?

I also began to wonder how I compared with other female thirtysomethings. In the course of the week, I burned between 1,500 and 2,000 calories a day and ate roughly the same amount. Work consumed only slightly more calories per minute than sleeping. And having sex burned fewer calories than aerobic exercise at the gym (though research on this is ever ongoing).

Self-monitoring may have upped my motivation, but I'd probably really have been driven to new heights if I'd been posting my data. I haven't quite seen the appeal of microblogging sites like Twitter, which allow users to blast zillions of short posts on what they're doing, where they are, what's on their mind. But obsessive sharing seems useful when it comes to fitness. The bugg does not have a social networking component; Nike + iPod, on the other hand, has a platform that allows runners to compare notes and challenge one another through the data they share online. Researchers predict that groups of friends or patients will someday keep tabs not only on one another's exercise routines or weight loss but on vital signs or heart patterns or blood glucose levels. (Think Facebook meets the diabetes toilet.)

In theory, all this could produce more than just a heap of physiological trivia; it could be a treasure trove for medical research. If companies can churn out gizmos that are cool and fun—and just useful enough—people may be willing to pay to gather data on themselves. And if the information is uploaded or shared, scientists might someday have access to copious minute-to-minute records, unlike anything available today. Then they might be able spot patterns to help predict when people are likely to have heart attacks or suffer memory loss or pull a muscle or slip into depression. I know the bodybugg sounds sort of indulgent, but it all could be game-changing for medicine.

Of course, only a fraction of today's ideas will turn out to work or have real utility. And just as certainly, privacy concerns abound. Last year, computer scientists discovered that Nike + iPod users could be easily tracked by strangers, since the sneaker-to-iPod signal was easy to intercept. (Nike did not return calls asking whether the problem has been fixed.) When it comes to physiological data, I'd rather see better protections built in from the beginning, with names and identifying features omitted.

Still, my week with the bugg nudged me closer to seeing the appeal of a true mechanical diary—an ongoing objective record of my body's interior. And I'm planning to keep the little guy on my arm a little longer, if only to see how many calories it takes to finish this article.