Garmin watches are ugly. Why do runners love them so much?
The clunky GPS timepiece remains the industry standard when it comes to durability, wearability and reliability
“What watch are you wearing?” So said a commercial real estate executive I met while dining at a counter restaurant in Arizona recently. His wrist was furnished with a beautiful steel Rolex; on mine, a thick black rubber GPS smartwatch called the Garmin Forerunner 55.
My dining mate said he’d noticed it because it was “nerdy” and at odds with the rest of my outfit. He had a point. I got it while training for the Chicago Marathon some years ago. Now, this clunky £115 timepiece — aesthetically the humble BlackBerry of the watch world given you can’t browse the internet on it — is my most worn accessory. Alongside my rose gold Oura ring, I never take it off.
I’m not alone. This black fitness watch is something of an unlikely status symbol. There’s a battle for bodily real estate happening and what wearable you wear to work out says something about you. Tech bros and finance types opt for minimalist Oura rings and Whoop armbands, while upstarts such as Coros have fast become popular with those training for fitness performance. (Only a watch can track and show your running pace in real time — the Apple Watch is, in running circles at least, considered a bit lame.) In a Runner’s World “best watch” report for this year, Garmin came out top.
Yet even its biggest fans acknowledge that Garmins are fairly ugly. Nicola Strange, the co-founder of Studio Beyond, an insights agency that works with brands including On, Lululemon and Nike, said her best friend calls her Garmin Fenix 6x Pro “the outfit ruiner”. Like the rest of us, she doesn’t really care.
Jessie Hyman, co-founder of the running label Pruzan, recently teamed her Garmin with a voluminous white cotton Bode dress with a delicate embroidered trim. Fashion buyer Feyisola Latunji wore her Garmin to her hen do.
“Accessories give a wink to the world about who we are. My Garmin tells people that I’m the kind of person who prioritises an athletic lifestyle,” says Strange.
Riding the global running boom, Garmin’s total sales for the fitness line soared 42 per cent to $547mn in the first quarter of 2026. Founded in Kansas in 1989 by electrical engineers Gary Burrell and Min Kao, Garmin initially focused on marine and aviation GPS. Its first running watch was released in 2003 but the company’s sales of fitness watches have been steadily increasing since the pandemic: between 2020 and 2021, revenue of the segment went from $1bn to $1.5bn. Today, models span the still popular Forerunner 55 (£119.99 on sale, released in 2021) to the highest-spec Marq Athlete (Gen 2) (£1,999 on sale, released in 2022). Versions exist for hikers and cyclists but runners wear theirs daily.
Like most wearables, a Garmin tracks steps to calorie burn and sleep. But runners benefit from the fact that the watch tracks pace and distance. You can also sync it to Strava, the fitness social app. The trajectory of marathon runners turning to fitness competitions and communities such as Hyrox means Garmins are increasingly showing up in the gym, too. Out in the wild, these types like to recognise their own.
“I met someone recently who was wearing a Garmin and I automatically thought, ‘Oh, he must be a runner,’” says James Irlam, a six-time major marathon runner and former watch collector from Cheshire. Irlam also owns an Apple Watch and a Coros but returned to the Garmin that he first bought in 2021 because he preferred its tracking and intuitive functionality. Heart rate monitors, popular with fitness bros, can feel performative (they’re generally paired with a topless torso), as can expensive luxury watches.
Now, Irlam wears his Garmin instead of his Rolex even when he’s not exercising. His idea of success has also changed since he took up running during the pandemic. “I’d be embarrassed to wear my Rolex now,” he says. “A Rolex feels flashy. Garmin shows a different sort of success that has been earned.”
Most Garmin wearers like Irlam, Strange (and me) remove it only to charge — and mine has a 14-day battery life. When I brandished my bare wrist at a wedding in May, there was a thick tan line. Matt Willocks, co-founder of Good Sport, a creative agency and print magazine based in Melbourne, Australia, suggested that to some, a Garmin tan line is “the wealthiest watch you can buy. It’s a signifier of exercising and being outside.”
More refined takes on sports watches are coming to market. Hong Kong upstart Amazfit recently tasked New York jeweller David Perry with creating a custom diamond dial for British runner Josh Kerr, who recently broke the world record for the one mile at the Diamond League in London. Codex just launched the XBand on Kickstarter — it’s a Whoop-like wearable band with a sensor, designed to sub in for the strap on your luxury watch. The idea is uninterrupted data without sacrificing parading traditional luxury bling. Brands such as Tag Heuer, via its Connected watch, offer elegant steel timepieces with sports functionality. In theory, it’s the best of both worlds and you can easily switch between rubber and steel straps, but it does cost more: the cheapest model is £1,350, and extra straps cost £180.
For me, emotional attachment to my Garmin comes from its simplicity. I haven’t upgraded to a newer, slicker style because my 2021 model does everything I need without the frills; it’s not like an iPhone, where out-of-date software stops it working. My Oura would only log my heart rate and I am not interested in text or email alerts on an Apple Watch. I appreciate the fact it isn’t another smartphone on my wrist. It feels original and analogue in this era of mass AI slickness and corporate polish. The silhouette reminds me of a ’90s Baby G watch. It’s also a great conversation starter and, as I found, an easy way to find common ground with strangers.