Queue the Music

We are past March 1st, did anyone start Gonna Fly Now (Rocky’s Theme) on the turntable? As I previously announced, I’m starting the hard training after a winter of maintenance miles. Who’s supposed to do the music? I can’t do everything around here. I need some musical inspiration…

…which didn’t come at my daughter’s school “music” show last night. I say “music”, in quotes, because I’m not sure what I saw up on that stage qualifies. It was the music class required, district mandated yearly elementary school music program involving half-hearted singing, ill-fitting hand-me-down clothing, poorly coiffed hair, and absolutely no rhythm whatsoever. My daughter did great. She’s a shining star. But the rest of the kids? Where’s the passion? Where’s the commitment? Where’s the pitch? (Answer: Not where you are at.)

If this school auditorium is a microcosm of what’s going on across the country, American Idol is going to suck in a few years. Or, suck more. I didn’t applaud much. I don’t encourage sloppy performance. I don’t give ribbons for “participation” either. The song choices were completely shallow and derivative. The only kid – besides my daughter – that could carry a tune was the baby three rows behind me that had a soprano E nailed! By the end of the performance, the baby wasn’t the only one that wanted to suckle a comforting breast.

I was chatting with another runner the other day about music and how we use it when training and running. We were polar opposites. He never runs with music except during a race – to enhance his concentration and block out distractions. I only listen to music when training and rarely listen during a race – because I find it distracting. I always wear my earphones but have only actually turned my music on in a handful of races. Instead, they become sweaty, nuisance ear plugs that have me cursing Why did I even wear these stupid things? every step of the race.

During training runs and, especially, while circling the Terrible Oval of 800’s, the music helps distract me from the boring miles. It keeps my rhythm going. Puts a little bounce in my step. Occasionally, if you drive past me, you may even find me playing the air drums or air guitar or air lead singer or air didgeridoo.

But, during a race, I’m only looking at the person immediately in front of me, full of venomous hate and loathing. The hate is strong…like a serial killer towards carpet fibers. I don’t want anything to distract me from that. How dare they run slight faster than me, right?

If you are reading this, (A) you are the only one and (B) you are in charge of the music. Queue up the Rocky…Ba da dum da da dum, da da dum da da dum…. And repeat.

I need something to wash away the memories of those out of sync maracas to “Apples and Bananas”. Ugh. Uninspiring.

Happy trails.