If you ever want to experience the wrath of passionate tech-column readers, write a review of wearables and don't mention Garmin.

My inbox was full of fans wondering where their favorite wrist-computer was in my testing. As it turns out, Garmin users are an enthusiastic, and occasionally menacing, bunch. Message received.

But I have a good excuse for not including Garmin the first time around: Their take on a screenless device wasn't available yet. After my initial piece was published, the company unveiled the $200 Cirqa, a no-display health band. There's no subscription needed to view metrics, which made it an immediate threat to the membership-mandatory Oura ring and Whoop band.

I ran, swam, biked, worked, showered and slept with the Cirqa over the past few weeks, and was impressed by its value. It was not, however, subtle.

The good

Heart-rate accuracy: Several studies show wearables excel at capturing resting heart rate during sleep, a finding that matched my own clinical sleep-lab tests. Reliable data becomes trickier, however, once you start moving.

I compared Cirqa's workout logs with recordings from a chest strap, the gold standard for heart rate accuracy. On a run, the band took 30 seconds to catch the right pulse, but matched the chest strap closely over the next half-hour.

Wrist-based tracking during cycling and Pilates lagged behind the Whoop and Apple Watch. But moving the Cirqa to my biceps improved readings significantly. While that data was more reliable, the $60 upcharge for the upper arm band is a bummer.

No subscription: I tested the Cirqa without Garmin's optional $7-a-month Connect+ membership for coaching and other features -- and didn't miss them. Unlike Oura ($6 a month) and Whoop ($199 a year and up), you can access every metric without a recurring fee.

The data feels like yours. Both Garmin and Google's Fitbit Air let you export raw files of activities to other platforms, whereas other wearables require clunky workarounds.

Long battery life: With an Apple Watch that needs daily charges, perhaps my bar is a bit...low. But I was genuinely impressed when the Cirqa ran for 11 days on a single charge. That tops Oura and Fitbit Air's weeklong battery life -- but falls short of Whoop's two-week rating.

Smartwatch swapping: Existing Garmin owners may get the most upside. I regularly wore a Garmin Venu 4 smartwatch during the day and swapped to the distraction-free Cirqa at night without losing a beat of data.

The not-so-good

Chunky pod: Let's be honest, the device is substantial. It's roughly the same size as my 2011-era car key fob and it sticks out, especially on small wrists.

Whoop is relatively beefy too, but you can hide its sensors in compatible clothing. (Seriously, I have one embedded in a bra right now.)

Auto-tracking: Screenless trackers log workouts automatically using movement and pulse readings. Oura leads the pack here, picking up everything from housework to brief stroller jaunts. For Cirqa, Garmin set a much higher threshold.

While half-hour runs and swims registered fine, it consistently failed to recognize short but vigorous 20-minute walks and my 40-minute, hilly bike commute to work. After I gave Garmin's team permission to dig into my account, a company spokeswoman said that on one ride, the device picked up an elevated heart rate for just 10 minutes -- not enough to register as an activity.

I simply didn't bike hard enough to "earn" the activity, and perhaps that's a motivational tool for Garmin's fitness-focused audience.

Garmin built in a single side button to trigger manual tracking -- but if the band misses a session, you can't log it retroactively as you can on rival devices. The main benefit of these no-display wearables is that you don't have to think about them. And with the Cirqa, I was constantly wondering whether my workout was worthy of being tracked.

Software labyrinth: Garmin's app is a bit like a puzzle. I spent 10 hair-pulling minutes just figuring out how to change the Cirqa's wearing location from "wrist" to "arm." Meanwhile, Garmin-specific stats such as "Body Battery" and "Intensity Minutes" come with minimal explanation. (The first is like your car's gas gauge, representing how much energy you have left in the tank. The second signifies how much time you've spent in moderate activity -- vigorous movement earns double.)

It's the kind of tech that offers deep customization and a lot of features -- but you need to read the manual.

What's the point?

Another frequently-asked question: Why wear one of these devices at all? After many months of intensive testing, I better understand their benefits and limits.

Will a tracker turn you into a workout-loving, vegetable-craving health fanatic overnight? Unlikely.

What they do offer is a window into subtle shifts you can't necessarily feel. Elevated resting heart rate, for example, can indicate something's off, such as overtraining, illness onset or too much wine last night. Trackers can also spot broader trends, such as sleep debt or accumulated stress that can affect long-term health.

Do I sometimes feel like the numbers are overkill -- and a little judgmental? Yes. But there are also vital uses. My smart ring captures nightly skin-temperature data for Natural Cycles, an FDA-cleared digital contraceptive. Millions of women use the app with health trackers to prevent or plan for a pregnancy. Compatible devices include the Oura, Apple Watch, Cirqa and other Garmin models and, most recently, Whoop.

Both functions require you to wear the device pretty much 24/7, and at the very least overnight. That explains the rise of screenless options like Cirqa, which gather data without glowing on your wrist.