The Wii Fit Hates Me

My parents decided to get a Wii as a family Christmas gift. My dad has a fondness for video games and my mom was interested in the Wii Fit (to be referred to as "the fucking thing") so it seemed like a good idea. It took until now to obtain a Fit and I helped my dad set it up last night.

You get to use a Mii you have created and it runs you through a set up where you enter your age and height. Then the fucking thing calculates your BMI and adjusts your Mii to represent how fat the fucking thing thinks you are. Right now, my Mii is a chubster. The fucking thing says I'm obese.

Next comes a balance test. The fucking thing figures out where your weight is distributed and then makes snarky comments if you aren't perfectly aligned. The fucking thing asked me if I often find myself tripping over my feet. No I bloody well don't, you fucking thing!

Then you set a 2 week goal (ie, 4lbs in 2wks) and choose a trainer. The dude is wearing some snug bike shorts and the woman has the weirdest looking boobs I've ever seen. Also, the lips don't really move when they speak and the gestures used to sync up with what they are saying. I decided to do the yoga. The fucking thing runs you through a few basic yoga positions. It encourages you to breathe and all seems fine until...the balance circle pops up. The balance circle is a small yellow circle that has a small red dot in it. Your goal is to keep the red dot within the circle. The trainer will say things like "Good balance" or more likely "Looks like you're a little shaky". Of course I'm a little shaky, you fucking thing. I'm standing on one foot, trying to keep my fat body aligned properly so my stupid red dot doesn't go outside the shitty yellow circle.

Once you're done the exercise (each one ran about 2 min), you get points for how good your balance was. Oh, if you fall over, you get no points. It even has a ranking screen so you can judge yourself against your friends and family. What a lovely concept. As an incentive, you get an exercise bank and it banks your minutes. Not quite sure what I'm supposed to do with that, but the fucking thing seems to think it is a great motivator.

Yes, I know it's a machine and it isn't really being malicious, but there's nothing like looking at a fat cartoon version of yourself in exercise clothes. Hopefully my mom will enjoy using it.