The first training runs I ever did were bare-wristed.
I was in sixth grade, at my middle school’s cross-country practice. Our coach told us to run a lap around the school, maybe three-quarters of a mile. I sauntered around with my friends, unencumbered by any pressure to perform, as our coach smoked a cigarette in the parking lot. Eventually, we tacked on laps, running two, three, four times around the school grounds. I began to feel the drive to improve: I wanted to run more, to run faster, to keep up with the older kids.
My high school coach was the first to introduce the concept of timing our runs. He told us to go to Target and buy a simple stopwatch—no bells and whistles, no GPS, no heart-rate variability tracker—just time. We used the Timex watches to track our training as we ran fartleks and interval workouts on local gravel trails. I was hooked by the improvement I saw in my race results, so I dedicated myself to running, tracking my progress, and aiming for a continuous upward trajectory.
A Runner’s Life, By the Watch
As I grew up, tracking progress became a more and more integral part of running culture. Watches became more advanced, and apps like Strava made data social. But still, the advice of my high school coach stuck with me: Don’t overcomplicate it. I continued to log my training in notebooks, writing out the routes, paces, and mileages manually. And despite having bought a Coros smartwatch in 2021, I often still ran with my blue “dumb” Timex stopwatch.
My Timex battery finally died late last year. I had just set a big PR with a 2:26:42 marathon in Indianapolis, and I wasn’t too pressed about continuing an intense training block through the bitter cold of winter. So, when I got home after spending the holidays with my family, I decided to forgo the watch—any watch—entirely. It was time to get back to my roots.
Running Without a Watch
The first watchless run was an adjustment. Stepping out my door, I instinctively reached for my wrist, only to realize there was no button to push. So, I walked down the front steps, turned to my route, and got going. At stoplights, I looked down for a nonexistent activity to pause. Without it, I just kind of… stood there.
As the days went by, I began to realize what a simple, even childlike, activity running is. Take away the ritualistic data collecting, the expensive gear, the constant tracking, and all you’re doing is moving your body through the world. It became a freeing feeling to walk outside and just go, no need to wait for the beep of satellite acquisition to tell me when to start. I could go as fast or as slow as I wanted, simply listening to my body to determine my pace on any given run. When I was done, the only things I had to show for it were some sweaty clothes and the rush of endorphins.
On my local bike path, running hard on a familiar stretch of road became a chance to release emotions I’d been holding. I channeled my frustration, my stress, and my pain into speed, pushing my body and savoring the challenge. I have no idea how fast I went, but I know I felt powerful.
Falling in Love With Running Again
Running is full of extrapolated life lessons: Consistency is key; everything in balance and moderation; pain is a part of growth. At the end of the month, I found all of these lessons reinforced, but a new one shone through: Trust your intuition.
The delicate balance between listening to and ignoring your body is a skill honed over years of running, but intuition goes beyond that. Intuition tells us why and how we run. It tells us to speed up when the world is overwhelming and infuriating and to slow down when the sunset turns the sky into a vibrant pastel painting. It reminds us that running is a natural part of who we are that connects us to ourselves and something greater.
Ditching the data and simplifying my runs for a month allowed me to tap back into the reasons I love running in the first place: The feelings of strength, of gratitude, of awe, the connection with my body and the world around me, the ability to challenge myself and push my limits.
As the seasons change and I begin training in earnest for races, I’ll once again rely on a watch to inform my work. I’ll keep track of my pace on my long runs, I’ll time out my intervals, I’ll aim to hit my splits. But regardless of the stats, I know my intuition will always be there to guide me.
RELATED: One Runner Followed His Watch’s AI Training Plan for a Month. Here’s What Happened.
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