The clock is ticking. I think.

Dee so very generously gave me this outstanding Garmin multi-sport training watch for Christmas. I’m pretty sure it features bells and whistles that haven’t even been invented yet but, miraculously, they are here on this crazy watch.

This morning I am trying to become familiar with the instrument, so that when my strained hamstring allows, I will be able to put it to comprehensive use as a timer, fitness tracker, sleep monitor, psychological motivational tool and, I believe it says on page 32 of the manual, a fondue maker. 

However, it appears to me my tech-deficit has come home to roost, because my first thought upon scratching the surface of the buttons, vibrations and connections is that this watch could hack into the Kremlin with only a little bit of tweaking. That is to say, I am struggling to uncover how I will set the timer for a simple three-mile run – for when I’m able to run three miles again, of course – let alone a 2,000-yard swim. You can swim with the watch, did I mention?

But I am going to give myself a break, in the name of mindfulness and the spirit of forgiveness, because the quantitative capabilities of this watch swamp the Apollo space program by untold multiples. I am positive nobody I know, including my two 20-somethings – one of whom is here on a lovely visit – could decipher, let alone organize, set up and explain, even half of the techno-wonders of this techno-wonder.

Overwhelmed? Just a little. But not defeated. Well, deflated only a little. I vow to rally – as soon as I find the “rally” button on this damn thing, I mean.