Recently, I’ve been compulsively returning to the little red heart on my phone’s home screen. It’s not the gateway to some intriguing new dating app or an embarrassingly addictive mobile game – the truth is far more boring. The object of my obsession is Apple’s health tracker, which stores up stats on how many steps I’ve taken each day, week and month.
On a typical weekday, I’m aiming to reach 10,000, the number that’s been drilled into our brains as the optimum. Last Saturday, during a particularly active hen do, I managed to hit the 26,000 mark; the day kicked off with a three-hour hike, a particularly obvious tell for the fact that my friends and I are now in our thirties.
