Sorry I didn't get a closer shot. Zoom in; it is definitely worth it. |
The
best gift is one that the recipient didn’t realize she wanted, one that she
never thought she needed and never would have bought for herself but that, once
given, becomes an integral part of her life. I’m not sure that I have ever
given a gift like this, but I have received at least two. The first was a Kindle,
given to me by my parents at Christmas when we lived in Switzerland.
English-language books are expensive to purchase there and not readily
available at libraries. In addition, the Kindle is easier to travel with – and
move – than stacks of books. Once we purchased a case with a light, it also was easier to read in the car (as a passenger, of course!), on airplanes,
or in a hotel room with sleeping kids. Now every member of the family has a
Kindle (though somehow we seem to have only one charger).
The second surprise necessity was a birthday
gift that Eric gave me about four years ago. It was a Garmin Forerunner GPS watch. It would tell me how far
I was running, how fast, and, when I connected it to my computer, it gave me a
map with my route, elevation, and pace at different points on the run. The watch
was pink, which was supposed to keep the male members of the family from
stealing it. That didn’t work, and so I never achieved my own records for
fastest mile, 5K, or 10K. I did, however, still hold the record for longest
run, since that was back in the days before some of my children became
50-mile-a-week runners and I became a runner who is delighted if I can hit 20
in a seven-day span.
The
first thing I realized when I started wearing the watch is that I was running
much slower than I had thought. Geneva is hilly, and without a running partner
to push me, I was kind of lollygagging through those grape arbors. The watch
quickly became essential to my runs. I needed to know my pace and mileage. I
needed to see my route and feel virtuous about the elevation chart. So a few
years later, when the watch died, I got on eBay and ordered a refurbished one
(orange, this time). By this time, Johanna had become as hooked on the
Forerunner as I was, so we justified the expense by saying that we were sharing.
Then she went to college, so she used some of her graduation money to purchase
very own lime-green model.
Right
about the time Johanna left for college, the orange Forerunner began to show
signs of age. It told me I had run an 11-minute mile (certainly possible,
though I hope not my usual pace) followed by a 6-minute mile (not possible this
side of Paradise). It couldn’t find a signal in the woods, and its battery
drained in the course of a 5-mile run. By this time, Eric and Drew both had
purchased way cooler Garmins, ones that linked to their cell phones and told
them the weather. The watches had a sleek design, so the guys could wear them
for life – not just running. I liked the idea of always knowing what time it
is, so I decided it was time for me to make the leap to the next level of
fitness tech. I drove to Bob Roncker’s Running Spot and plunked down the cash
for my very own Garmin Vivoactive Smart Watch.
I
do a Social Media and Internet unit with my basic writing class. We read about,
discuss, monitor, and write about our involvement with these technologies. At
the end of the unit, we try to come to some conclusions. Last spring, I had a student
named Cristian, who loved computers and everything about them. Despite his enthusiasm
for tech (it was so overt that his classmates called him “Apple”), his embrace
of internet-linked devices was not uncritical. “People are smart, not phones,”
he would say. “We need to control our devices, rather than letting them control
us.”
I
was not thinking about his advice when I transitioned from a regular GPS watch
to a full-fledged Smart Watch. The Vivoactive thinks it is my mom – or at least
my coach. If I sit for more than 30 minutes, it buzzes at me to “Move!” It
greets me in the morning with the depressing news that I have taken zero steps
and that the last six hours of sleeping has only burned about 268 calories. If
I linked it to my cell phone, it would buzz peremptorily at me every time I got
a text (I haven’t given it that kind of control yet – mostly because I haven’t
taken the time to figure out how). The Vivoactive isn’t a nice, encouraging
coach. It’s the demanding, impossible-to satisfy variety, the kind who says
things like, “If you’re not throwing up at the end of a run, you didn’t go fast
enough.” When I run with friends who have a GPS watch, their watches invariably
tell them they have run more miles, faster, than my watch tells me. At first,
we thought this was perhaps due to an error in the settings, and it is true
that the watch thought I was male, 4 foot 10, and weighed 150 pounds. But even
after correcting that, I still feel like it cheats me on every run. Further, it
refuses to count any exercise I do that doesn’t involve steps. If I spend 20
minutes doing an ab workout, the calorie count doesn’t move any more than if I
spend 20 minutes lying on the floor. And the watch gives credit only for speed.
So after I struggle the half-mile up Mount Storm, the Vivoactive sees only the
slow pace of the climb, not the high level of the exertion. I know that these
watches are designed as a motivational tool for fitness. But I am not trying to
lose weight or exercise more; all I really want is to be able to see how far
I run, when I run, and keep track of the time of day, when I don’t. I don’t need
a constant critic on my wrist. I need to listen to Cristian and not feel
bullied or shamed by a piece of metal and plastic that has no ability to know
or care what I’m doing.
But
right now, the Vivoactive is buzzing and I need to take a run.