“My Smartwatch Thinks I’m in Trouble —
Even When I’m Just Napping”

Back in the day, if you were breathing, standing upright, and didn’t spill your coffee, that was enough proof you were alive. These days, my smartwatch needs confirmation every ten minutes — and apparently, I’m failing the test.

Let me back up.

I recently got one of those newfangled watches — you know, the ones that monitor your steps, heart rate, sleep quality, stress levels, hydration, and, I believe, your proximity to a panic attack. The incentive was an admonition from my primary care doctor who said that my oxygen level fluctuated too much and my blood pressure dropped every once in a while. So, the watch was supposed to help me watch those things. It tracked my steps along the way as well. So, it’s now strapped to my wrist like a tiny probation officer when it supposed to be more of a nurse practitioner.

And it’s judging me.

The first week, I was enthusiastic. I figured it would be like the watches we had growing up — tells the time, looks cool, maybe impresses someone at breakfast at the golf club. Instead, I’ve acquired a digital stoolpigeon.

At 10:42 a.m. last Tuesday, I was reading my Kindle (I’m still a geek at heart) when my wrist buzzed angrily:
“You’ve been inactive for too long. Time to move!”
Move where? I was halfway through a chapter and puzzling who done it. Did not see any reason to get back on the treadmill.

Step Count Shenanigans

Now, I’m pretty active and go to the gym at least three days a week. But I set a goal on the watch of 10,000 steps per day which I mostly do not achieve. But this watch is relentless.

Yesterday, it proudly congratulated me:
“You’ve taken 4,782 steps today!”
I was thrilled — until I realized 4,000 of them were me pacing between my planters and the hose bib for water while trying to get my planted seeds to germinate.

Today, it reported only 223 steps. I’m not sure how that’s possible — I vacuumed the living room, took out the trash, and chased a pigeon off the patio.
Maybe pigeon chasing cardio doesn’t count since I have to do this almost every day?

Heart Rate Hokum

Then there’s the heart monitor.
Sometimes, while I’m napping, it reports that my heart rate has plummeted to below the “resting” levels. And while my resting heart rate has been at the lower end most of my life, going below that is a bit unusual and probably not occurring regardless of what the watch says.
Other times, I’m just watching a Giants game and it spikes into the danger zone.
“Alert: Elevated heart rate.”
No kidding — it’s the 9th inning and they just walked in the tying run which seems to happen with too much regularity!

Now, let’s talk about sleep tracking — my personal favorite.

Every morning, it gives me a report card:

“Last night: 4h 50m sleep, 3h 55 m deep sleep, 0m REM, 0h 55m light sleep. It missed the five times I got up.”

All very interesting, except:

• I went to bed at 11 and got up at 7:30 which is nine and a half hours not counting the four or five times I got up to pee.
• I don’t recall tossing or turning.  I usually get into one position and pretty much stay there
• REM is a state that I seldom reach and when I do I should dream I was 25 again. Never happens!

One morning it said I had a Sleep Score of 58 — as if I failed a pop quiz. I got 58 once on a high school history test, and that teacher didn’t buzz me at 6 a.m. demanding more “deep sleep.”

Water Guilt and Stress Alerts

My smartwatch also wants me to drink more water. Every few hours:
“Hydration Reminder: Drink more water!”
I’m old enough to remember when people drank water because they were thirsty, not because their wrist ordered it.

And stress alerts?
The other day it told me I was “showing signs of elevated tension.”
I was on line to a help desk that was probably housed in Bangladesh.
Frankly, the fact that I didn’t throw my phone out the window should have earned me a bonus wellness badge.

Sharing the Pain

I brought this all up at coffee with a few friends.
Turns out, Bob’s smartwatch keeps telling him he’s not sleeping enough, even though his wife says he snores like a cement mixer.
Jan’s says she’s walking 6,000 steps a day, but she hasn’t left the couch since April.
We’re thinking of forming a support group — “Seniors Misunderstood by Their Devices.”

We’ll hold meetings at the park. You get a sticker if your watch logs it as “intentional movement.”

So, Am I Keeping It?

Sure.

Despite the nagging, the buzzes, the hydration guilt trips, and the occasional premature obituary from my heart monitor, I am still wearing it.

Because let’s face it:

• It tells time pretty well.
• It sort of watches my heart rate — though I still don’t know how to get a consistent blood pressure reading that doesn’t say 118/84 no matter what.
• And it lets me pretend I’m tech-savvy, which around here gives me thermostat privileges (most of the time) as well as computer trouble requests from my wife.

Final Thought

The smartwatch may not fully understand me yet.

But then again, I haven’t fully figured out how to use it either.

So we’re even.

At least until next week — when I stretch out for a well-earned nap, and the watch freaks out. A “Low Movement Alert” pops up, followed by a red pulse symbol that practically screams, “This man is in distress!”

The irony? I was feeling great — just cooling down after a fierce bout with the garden hose. But sure, let’s flag that as a critical event.

Maybe next time I’ll wear it on my ankle. That way, at least it might not know I’m asleep.