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I have a love-hate relationship with the smartwatch on my wrist. This relationship is no doubt shaped by the fact that I write about fitness tech for a living, but I know I’m not alone in succumbing to an obsession with numbers from my wearables. Did I hit 10,000 steps? What’s my resting heart rate today? Is my sleep score better than yesterday’s? When did progressive overload turn into screen time overload, too?
The fitness tech boom is showing no signs of slowing down any time soon—and with it, we consume a constant stream of promises that this data will make us healthier, stronger, and faster. With the sheer amount of health insights potentially available to us at any time, it’s easy to get overwhelmed. I’ve watched my least health-anxious friends become consumed by metrics they’d never heard of two years ago. They’re tracking bone density trends, obsessing over cortisol levels, panicking about stress scores that fluctuate for reasons no algorithm can fully explain. I can feel my fitness trackers pull me away from genuine wellness and into a mental health disaster. The good news: When I look up from my screens and start talking to real people, I see I’m not alone in wanting to unplug and push back against the overly quantified self.
A growing anti-tech fitness movement
When I put out a call on Instagram asking people about their relationship with posting workout data and fitness content, I received hundreds of responses from people exhausted by the performance of fitness. Even if your only audience is your own reflection, simply owning a wearable can create a real barrier between feeling good about your body and your fitness journey. Did I work out enough today? Will my friends see that I skipped a workout? Should I push through injury to maintain my streak?
For these reasons, celebrity trainer Lauren Kleban says she doesn’t like to rely on wearables at all. “Counting steps or calories can quickly spiral into a bit of an obsession,” says Kleban, and that “takes the joy out of movement and away from learning what’s truly best for us.” She says her clients want to focus on their mind and body connection, now more than ever. There’s a real, growing desire to rebuild a sense of intuition that doesn’t depend on feedback from a watch.
Similarly, Marshall Weber, a certified personal trainer and owner of Jack City Fitness, says that he’s “definitely been surprised by the growing push towards unplugged fitness,” but that he “totally gets it.” Weber says he’s had clients express feeling “overwhelmed with their Fitbit or Apple Watch micromanaging their training.” When every workout becomes about numbers and keeping up with an average, it’s all too easy to lose touch with your body. “The anti-tech movement is about taking back that personal connection,” Weber says. After all, when was the last time you finished a workout and didn’t immediately look at your stats, but instead just noticed how you felt?
This is the paradox at the heart of fitness technology. Tools designed to help us understand our bodies have created a new kind of illiteracy. Maybe you can tell me why you’re aiming for Zone 2 workouts, but can’t actually recognize what that effort feels like without a screen telling you. In a sense, you might be outsourcing your own intuition to algorithms.
If nothing else, the data risks are real. (Because if you think you own all your health data, think again.) Every heart rate spike, every missed workout, every late-night stress indicator gets recorded, stored, and potentially shared. Still, for me, the more insidious risk is psychological: the erosion of our ability to know ourselves without consulting a device first.
What do you think so far?
How to unplug and exercise intuitively
So what does unplugged fitness actually look like in practice? It’s not about rejecting all technology or pretending GPS watches and heart rate monitors don’t have value—I promise. Look, I crave data and answers as much as—and maybe more than—the average gym-goer. I’m simply not woo-woo enough to ditch my Garmin altogether.
Instead, I argue for re-establishing a hierarchy in which technology serves your training, not the other way around. “Sometimes, the best performance boost is just learning to listen to what your body is saying and feeling,” says Weber. But what does “listening to your body” actually look like?
If you’re like me, and need to rebuild a connection with your body from the ground-up, try these approaches:
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Start with tech-free workouts. Designate certain runs, yoga sessions, or strength workouts as completely unplugged. No watch, no phone, no tracking. Notice what changes when there’s no device to check.
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Relearn your body’s signals. Can you gauge your effort level without looking at a heart rate monitor? Do you actually know what “recovery pace” feels like for you, or are you just matching a number? Practice assessing fatigue, energy, soreness, and readiness without checking your watch.
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Replace metrics with sensory awareness. Instead of tracking pace, notice your breathing pattern. Instead of counting calories burned, pay attention to how your muscles feel. Instead of obsessing over sleep scores, ask yourself a simple question in the morning: how do I actually feel?
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Set goals that can’t be gamified. Rather than chasing step counts or streak days, aim for qualitative improvements. Can you hold a plank with better form? Does that hill feel easier than last month? Are you enjoying your workouts more? These are the markers of real progress.
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Create tech boundaries. Maybe you use your GPS watch for long runs but leave it home for everything else. Perhaps you track workouts but delete the social features. Find the minimum effective dose of technology that serves your goals without dominating your headspace.
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Reconnect with in-person community. The loss of shared gym culture—people actually talking to each other instead of staying plugged into individual screens—represents more than just nostalgia. There’s real value in working out alongside others, in having conversations about training instead of just comparing data, in building knowledge through shared experience rather than algorithm-driven insights.
The bottom line
Unplugging is easier said than done, but you don’t need to go cold turkey. Maybe in the new year, you can set “body literacy” as a worthwhile resolution. At the end of the day, exercise should add to your life, not become another source of performance anxiety. It should be energizing, not exhausting—and I don’t just mean physically. The never-ending irony of modern fitness culture is that in our pursuit of optimal health, we keep inventing new forms of stress and anxiety. When all forms of wellness come with trackable metrics and social pressure, I think we’ve fundamentally missed the point.
