Damn You, Forerunner!

First, I must say, one of the best presents I’ve ever gotten was the Forerunner 201. It’s helped track hiking and running, kept time with me at the half marathon in San Francisco, and has been a really good running pal for this solitary runner. If you have a runner in your life and they still don’t have the Forerunner, get them one. The new ones look especially kick ass, with their streamlined face and expanded features.

However, it pissed me off today. Oh, did it piss me off.

When I hit mile four of what turned out to be my 6.35-mile run, I was floating along, more or less. Running in the D.C. area is totally different from running in Michigan–there are way more hills around here, and for that reason alone will my legs look twice as fabulous this summer. Anyway, while I wasn’t exactly floating, I was making excellent time–nine minute miles, to be precise. When the Forerunner turned over to four miles, it read 00:36:00 exactly. I kept my pace, not tired enough to slow down, but knowing that when I hit mile five, I would have to stop and walk. I knew that if I kept my pace, I would hit mile five at 00:45:00 or less, and let me tell you, it has been a while since that has happened. After running on the same old dirt road for years, my running’s been injected with some life thanks to new scenery, and it really helps me pick up the pace regardless of the hills. I was on a runner’s high, and that’s remarkable given my a) sporadic running and b) recent illness.

Then the damn Forerunner decided to be an asshole.

At 4.39 miles, the Forerunner stayed . . . and stayed . . . and stayed at that quantity for 30 seconds. It does not take me half a minute to run .01 miles, I’m sorry. And then when it finally rolled over 4.40, it stalled again for another 30 seconds. What the hell? I tried running a bit faster, but the damage was done–the GPS within the Forerunner was no help, as it didn’t detect anything amiss and make up the distance I had actually covered (it does do that at times). I hit five miles at 00:45:42, and I was pissed. I lost nearly a minute to the Forerunner’s stalling. It was the first time I wanted to take the damn thing off, kick it across the park, and then proceed to stomp on it like a child a couple of times. Of course, that wouldn’t have helped matters, given that I need it to (nominally) keep time and distance for me during my next run. I just blew off my steam by running another .20 miles.

I then walked for a bit, then ran another 1.15 miles. This time, the Forerunner didn’t act up, but the damage was done. The love, it’s a little frosty right now, and I’m glaring at the Forerunner periodically, then turning my head quickly when it turns to ask me what’s wrong.

And I’d just charged you, you sumbitch!