It was October 2022, a Tuesday, and I was in the middle of a twelve-mile training run through Prospect Park in Brooklyn. It was that annoying kind of cold rain—the kind that gets into your bones but isn’t quite a storm. At mile 11.2, my Garmin Fenix 6 gave a pathetic little vibrate and the screen went black. I stopped dead. I didn’t finish the run. I literally walked the last 0.8 miles to my apartment feeling like the previous hour of effort didn’t exist because there was no GPS map to prove it. I felt like a ghost. I realized then that I wasn’t running for my health anymore; I was running for a green bar on a screen. That’s when I started hating these apps.
Garmin Connect is for nerds who hate themselves
I’ve used Garmin Connect for five years. I know every corner of that app, and I still think it’s a disaster. It’s built like a hoarder’s basement. There are layers of menus that lead to sub-menus that eventually show you a graph of your respiration rate from three weeks ago, which is information nobody actually needs. I checked it this morning: my Training Status is “Unproductive.” Thanks, Garmin. I slept six hours and worked a ten-hour shift, but because my heart rate was 4 beats per minute higher than usual during a light jog, the app decided I’m failing at life. It’s brutal.
The data is precise, though. I’ll give them that. I tracked 142 runs last year and the GPS variance was less than 0.02 miles compared to the official course markings. But the UI? What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently: it feels like it was designed by an engineer who has never seen a sunset. It’s all charts and no soul. If you want to feel like a lab rat, buy a Garmin.
The problem with data is that it doesn’t care if you had a bad day at work. It just sees a slow mile.
I know people will disagree with me here, and they’ll point to the “Body Battery” feature as a lifesaver. I used to think it was genius. I was completely wrong. Now I think it’s just a digital leash that tells me I’m tired when I actually feel fine, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy of exhaustion. I’ve started ignoring it. It’s much better for my mental health.
Strava is just LinkedIn for people in spandex
Strava is the worst. I said it. I still use it, because I’m a hypocrite, but I hate it. It has turned the simple act of moving your body into a performance for people you haven’t spoken to since high school. Every time I finish a workout, I spend three minutes thinking of a clever title so that “Dave from Accounting” will give me a digital orange thumb. It’s pathetic.
The app has become so bloated with social features that it barely functions as a tracker anymore. They keep trying to sell me a $79.99 annual subscription for “Route Planning” that is objectively worse than just looking at Google Maps. And don’t get me started on the segments. I once saw a guy almost hit a pedestrian because he was trying to get a “King of the Mountain” badge on a 200-meter stretch of sidewalk. Total garbage.
Anyway, I digress. The point is that Strava has commodified sweat. It makes you feel like if you didn’t post the 5k, the calories didn’t burn. That’s a dangerous way to live. I’ve started setting my activities to “Private” by default. It feels like a small rebellion, even if nobody notices. Actually, especially because nobody notices.
The sleep tracking lie
I might be wrong about this, but I’m convinced sleep tracking is the biggest scam in the tech world right now. I’ve tested an Oura ring, a Fitbit, and my Garmin side-by-side for a month. On a Tuesday night in March, the Oura told me I had 82% “Readiness,” the Garmin said my sleep was “Poor” (score of 44), and the Fitbit was somewhere in the middle. I felt great that morning. If I had listened to the Garmin, I would have skipped my workout.
These apps are guessing. They are measuring movement and heart rate and pretending they know what’s happening in your brain. They don’t. They’re just fancy accelerometers. I actually think the anxiety of checking your “sleep score” every morning does more damage to your nervous system than actually losing thirty minutes of REM cycle. It’s a feedback loop of stress.
I refuse to recommend Fitbit to anyone anymore. Since Google took over, the UI has become this weird, sterile wasteland, and they keep hiding basic data behind a “Premium” paywall. I bought the device; let me see my own heart rate data without charging me an extra ten bucks a month. It’s greedy and short-sighted.
It’s just math, really. Companies want recurring revenue, so they turn your health into a subscription.
What do we actually need?
Last week, I went for a walk without my watch. I didn’t track the steps. I didn’t check my pace. I didn’t see how many floors I climbed. I just walked until I was tired, then I turned around and walked back. It was the best “workout” I’ve had in months.
If you absolutely need an app, just use Apple Health or something basic that stays out of your way. Most of these fitness tracker app reviews focus on the features, but they forget to mention how the features make you feel. If an app makes you feel like a failure for sitting on the couch on a Sunday, it’s not a tool. It’s a bully.
I’m still wearing the watch, though. I guess I’m still addicted to the numbers, even if I know they’re lying to me. Is it possible to find a balance? I honestly don’t know.
Stop looking at the screen. Just go outside.
