On a whim, I have bought a small plastic bracelet that tells you how far you’ve walked and how well you’ve slept when you plug it into your phone.

This will be brilliant. At last I will have a way of knowing if I’ve walked far or slept well!

I bought it because my friend Geoff mentioned he had one, and said how interesting it was finding out if you’d walked far or slept well.

So I install the app on my phone and find out I can actually add Geoff to my own system, so that we can constantly compare and contrast how far we’re walking and whether in fact we did or did not sleep well.

I am immediately impressed with Geoff’s statistics.

“Wow!” I say, to my wife. “Geoff slept really well last night.”

“Did he?” she says.

“Yes,” I say. “It took him 16 minutes to drift off, but then he slept for eight hours and 28 minutes! And more than half of that was deep sleep!”

“Good for Geoff!” says my wife.

“I knew he could do it.”

“He woke up briefly at 3.54am,” – I make a sad face – “but he still managed 105 per cent of his target sleep goal!”

I do that whistle people do when they’re impressed.

I tap out a message and send it to Geoff.

“Great sleep, Geoff!” it says.

It is encouragement like this that will help us both lead more productive and energetic lives.

I start to wonder how his walking is going.

“Well, look at that,” I say. “Geoff walked 14,303 steps yesterday. That’s 143 per cent of the ideal target goal for someone of Geoff’s specific size, age and weight. That’s 11 kilometres for a total calorie burn of 2,399.”

Geoff is doing so well, I tell myself.

I am so proud of Geoff, I think.

But I suddenly feel under some degree of pressure.

“Right, I better start walking about,” I say, not that it’s about winning, and I go upstairs. How many steps was that? I wonder if I’m beating Geoff yet. Not that it’s about winning.

Later, I walk downstairs to make a cup of tea, and once I’ve made it, I take it back upstairs. I tap my band, just to be sure it’s working. I’d hate for this to go unrecorded due to technical error.

So I plug the wristband into my phone just to check.

189 steps so far. I think back to Geoff’s number – 14,303.

Well, today’s not a typical day. I’m at home all day. It’s not a fair reflection. And what’s more, it’d probably discourage Geoff, to see his teammate ringing up such low numbers. Maybe I’ll take the band off today, and then pop it back on before bedtime.

Yes – I will concentrate on sleep today, and walking tomorrow. I’ll really go for it tomorrow, not that it’s about winning.

In the morning, I check to see whether or not I slept well. I feel pretty great!

“Oh,” I say, my face falling. “I didn’t sleep that well.”

“How did Geoff do?” asks my wife.

“Geoff Geoff Geoff, must everything always be about Geoff?” I snap.

“What?” she says.

“He slept brilliantly,” I hiss. “He slept for nine hours and 51 minutes. Though what any grown man needs with all that sleep is beyond me. He’s not a baby.”

“What about…”

I put my hand up to stop her talking. She need not ask. I have already seen how far he walked yesterday. It is absolutely ludicrous. I hold my phone up and just show her.

“25,843 steps!” she says. “Twenty kilometres! Twelve-and-a-half miles!”

“I am well aware of what it says,”

I say. “He must be cheating.”

“How far did you walk?”

“You know full well I am concentrating on my sleeping at the moment,” I say, seething, not that it’s about winning.

I am not usually a competitive man. But this is not about Geoff walking 12-and-a-half miles on a completely normal day. This is about me not having walked 12-and-a-half miles probably ever.

I need to up my game. Starting now. Right now. I’ll show Geoff. Oh, I’ll show him some walking, all right. Because these boots were made for walking – both figuratively and literally.

“I’m going out!” I call to my wife, like an action hero, strapping the small bracelet on, not like an action hero.

A report on the news that morning told me it was going to be the hottest day of the year. Oh yeah?

“Bring it on,” I mutter to myself.

Not that it’s about winning.