According to my collected Garmin data, I've taken this watch on over 1,000 runs, and we've clocked a total of 5,308 miles together over 1119 hours. I've climbed 392,474 feet (~56,000 feet per year) and my average speed is 5.2 mph (not too shabby!).
But seven years and thousands of miles can be tough on a watch.
At this point, the silicone-ish watchband has disintegrated. Since taking the above photo where I used black tape to repair the band at the side, the band has broken completely in half and I'm using white gaffer tape to hold it together. The other side of the band is rigged up with a combination of string, thread, and a hair elastic. Unfortunately, the band turns out to be irreplaceable, since Garmin no longer makes this watch.
But you know what? I'm fine with my beat-up watch. I'm reluctant to replace it just because the band needs help. The watch itself is still tickin' and seems totally fine. There's nothing wrong with how it works, it's just a little less aesthetically pleasing than it used to be. It's worn in.
And it's like my transition in running in general. (Being worn in but still working is ME in general.) I rig up my running plans from workout to workout, with no long-term goal. I just have a yen to keep moving in nature. I'm reluctant to mess with the core of my practice--which is essentially to go out and find running adventures and enjoy the outdoors on legs that still work just fine. I love running up local mountains, and this year I ran my two favorite peaks a total of 18 times. I made that my priority. I focus on weekend adventures on trails and do hardly any pre-dawn workouts that are just for mileage.
As I get older and more seasoned, my philosophy is that if the run isn't a pleasure in some way, why on earth would I force myself? Life is too short for forcing things that I don't even have to do. I sleep in whenever I can. I eat the cake. I run when I want to. Those things feel good, and that is a blessing.