Waiting.  Waiting for the Garmin.

Thinking it is God’s gift to Runners.

I get it after a week.

I sit there, with the box. 

I open other mail.

I get some cookies.

I look at the box.

I name it Crash Davis.

Something that is old, but cool.  Like me.

I feel it in the box, wanting to come out.

I take it out.

I try it on my arm.  The coolness on my wrist.

Taking pictures.

I put it back in the box.

I am so excited.

Like having a baby.

Anticipation.

What will it look like?

Will I be a better runner with it?

And, like all the advice you get before you have a baby,

It’s not the same as when YOU get the baby.

I TAKE IT OUT AND PLUG IT IN

It beeps.

I get more advice.

People call in,

and I remember when I tried to nurse my son.

Friends over at midnight showing me what to do.

I set the workout

I take it out for a spin

I can’t even read the damn thing.

I hear the beeps.

I’m running to Crash, not the other way around.

Like a baby.

Making demands on me that I do not understand.

And tonight I’m wondering.

If there is a place to send babies back.

Because this Garmin business.

It may not be for me.  Yet.

Larry: Who’s this? Who are you?
Crash Davis: I’m the player to be named later.