Oh Garmin 305,
How I both love and loathe you.
You make my runs so complete.
With all your endless data, workouts, and loud beeps.
Giving me mini-crises throughout my run,
When I look down and see Mile Pace: 10:01.
My asthmatic breathing seems to argue against,
your so-called Satellite precision mess.
But for once, dear lord, could you cut me some slack
When I turn you on, you don’t do jack.
For what seems like hours.
Especially if it’s overcast or showers.
So I stand around, pacing up and down my sidewalk.
Looking like a complete idiot for all to gawk.
And then like *MAGIC* **poof!** you decide to work.
But for a good 10 minutes, you really made me feel like a jerk.
So until my stupid feet can learn to keep a pace by chance,
I will be stuck doing the Garmin Dance.
And in other news, I can’t shake this stupid cold thing, I am going to be the most pissed Eli in the entire world. To train for something so hard and then have a taper run of 2 miles make you feel like you are dying of acute onset asthma with coinciding bronchitis can’t bode well for the confidence-o-meter. Glass City, well played. But I still will have my date with you. And we will do the Paso Doble like Donald Driver dance battling the devil. Ho.