IT’S ALL IN THE TIMING

I purchased a fancy sports watch with all sorts of timers, alarms, and other features during a summer a couple of years ago when I thought taking up jogging would be a good idea. I thought I would time myself running laps around the local college track, building up speed and stamina, until I could run a marathon. My help desk husband set the time and date on my watch without the aid of a manual (see my post IF ONLY I COULD FIND THE MANUAL), which I remember thinking at the time was a bit show-offy, though I didn’t complain because the watch was set. I did attempt jogging that summer until the temperatures ascended into the high nineties. Then I decreased my speed to race walking,  then to regular walking, and then finally to thinking about walking while watching the football players work out on Friday Night Lights when I could figure out how to stream it from Netflicks (see my post REMOTE AND REMOTER). I never did learn to use the timers, alarms, and other features on my watch, but there’s no time like the present.

I ran into my first obstacle while studying the decorative, abstract etchings around the circumference of the watch face. Then I put on my reading glasses for closer inspection, and I learned that those etchings were words. At the top were the words “Ironman Triathalon”, a hint at my delusions when I purchased this watch. There was also a bright yellow button labeled “indiglo”. I pressed that button, and the numbers on the watch face lit up for night vision. Yes folks, I had in my possession a tool to train for my triathalon at night.

Toward the bottom of the watch face, I noted that the word “vroom” was inscribed. The help desk doubted that “vroom” was written on my watch, as if I would make up a thing like that.

“Let me see that,” he said. He took a long, scrutinizing look, then announced, “It doesn’t say ‘vroom’. It says ‘WR100M’.”

I would buy stronger reading glasses later, but first, I would identify the meaning of WR100M. I consulted Britt, my friend who runs.

Britt’s response: “I am not the kind of runner who needs a fancy sports watch. I’m the kind of runner who needs resuscitation at the end of the road.”

I referred the question to Ericka, my friend who runs marathons, who told me WR100M meant that this watch was water-resistant up to 100 meters.

“Does that mean it’s waterproof?” I asked.

“Not quite. It means you can swim across a lake, but you can’t wear it scuba diving,” Ericka answered. “So go jump in a lake,” she instructed with joy.

What a watch!

Next, I set my sights on learning to operate one feature of my highly complex, water-resistant watch. My ambition was to set the timer. Through intricate navigation of the “mode” in conjunction with the “set/recall” buttons, I set the timer to go off in one minute. Feeling cocky, I expanded my goal to conquering two functions, and I set an alarm as well, for 7:00. One minute later, the timer went off. Success! Another minute later, the timer beeped again. A number of minutes of predictable beeping passed, and then it was time to turn to the help desk in his upstairs office to figure out how to end the incessant beeping.

“Did you try the ‘stop’ button?” help desk asked.

The truth was, I needed stronger reading glasses, so I couldn’t see a “stop” button.

The correct button was pointed out and pressed, and the relentless beeping halted, but at 7:00PM, the alarm I’d set went off. I pressed “stop”, and then everything went quiet … until 7:00 in the morning, when the watch came alive again. This disruption prompted an effort by a bleary-eyed help desk to deprogram all I had achieved. My water-resistant watch was complex indeed. Even the help desk could not manage to turn off the alarm forever. However, he was able to reset it to what he considered a benign time: Tuesdays at 2:00PM.

If I ever want peace again on Tuesdays at 2:00PM, I’ll have to bury my watch in the garden. Barring that, from now on I plan to stick to the time and date with the occasional visit to “indiglo” if I want to know the time (and date) at night while my arm is submerged in up to 100 meters of lake water. I have documented some technological successes on The Luddite Chronicles, but this is not one of them. Unless someday I reconsider running a marathon (or even a block), I will leave the timers, alarms, and other features on my Ironman Triathalon watch alone.

Lesson learned: It’s okay to use your watch for its original purpose, to tell the time, just as it is okay not to participate in an ironman triathalon.