I’m tagging along to the Best Buy with Mo. It’s early and I’m still half asleep after The Great Survivor Pizza Debacle. I’m not excited to be here.

Until I see them.

Best Buy, apparently discovering there is much money to be made off of runners, has an entire row of watches, heart rate monitors and Garmins. I suspect this is much what it will be like at the Pearly Gates. Just pick your watch on the way in to Heaven. Mo, having wandered off to find what we had actually come here for, is puzzled at what has caused my trancelike state of bliss till she comes around the corner. And likely fears we will soon be spending way too much money.

It’s a great display because you can click on the watches. Nothing makes me happier than clicking on watches, which probably tells you all you need to know about me. Earlier in the year, in an attempt to get back to my roots, I was determined to find a Timex that clicks when you hit the split button. They stopped making them click years ago, and nothing makes me madder than not being able to feel that reassuring click when you’re recording a split. I had driven Carlo and Gossie crazy, pushing their Timexes endlessly in the never-ending hope that maybe this time they would click. They never did.

Today, they’re all clicking. Timex must have figured it out and changed the new generation. And I have been strangely drawn to the Best Buy to discover them. It’s a Sign From God!

Problem is I have my trusty Garmin. There’s really no justification for getting a Timex in addition to my faithful 305. I run through the various arguments and none of them work. I am thwarted. We leave the store empty-handed.

I come home, suit up and drive to the Y to make up my ill-fated marathon pace run from yesterday. The Garmin, whose battery was out yesterday, is fully charged. As I walk into the Y i hit the button and the screen is completely blank.

Thinking I just had a bad hookup and it hadn’t really charged, I go home and hook it up. Dead. Muerto. Nada. I scrub the little connectors with a pencil, bang it on the table a couple times, all the usual quick fixes. Nothing.

The Garmin has chosen today to die. It’s a Sign From God. Time to make the switch to a Timex!

In one last gesture of gratitude for the good times I’ve had with the Garmin, I google “my stinkin’ Garmin has gone blank what the heck do I do?” The first thing that pops up is someone saying just hold down two buttons for a couple of seconds. Sure enough, poof! The Garmin awakens from its slumber, looking like BK when I poke her while she’s sunning in the afternoon.

It’s a Sign From God! I abandon the Y and run on the road, free again to run anywhere I please while the Garmin faithfully records my mileage. What was I thinking? And the buttons on it click. It’s a great run, with the temperature finally warm enough (85) that I can run without a jacket and wool hat. The suffering from HM pace is small, the joy of running in the sun and breeze is immense, the Terrorist Squirrel is missing. It’s a happy outing.

Driving home, the sun lights up the golden arches of the McDonald’s. They’re selling $1 ice cream. It’s a Sign from God …