|Avg Pace:||11:32 min/mi|
|Elevation Gain:||120 ft|
|Avg Temperature:||61.0 °F|
I had to attend a CPR training class yesterday, and missed my chance at a morning run with the kids from the Y. Today was so beautiful that I put my shorts and shoes on before breakfast. Nothing was going to keep me off the road today. I was due for a 3.5 miler, but last night's basketball game was so exciting, I decided I wanted to celebrate somehow. I briefly considered trying to run/walk 9 miles to commemorate the UK Wildcats' pursuit of their 9th national championship, but after the first cup of coffee cleared my head, that idea seemed pretty reckless to me. I settled on a 4 mile run in honor of the Final Four instead.
I've been wearing my headphones more than in the past, and I was trying a new, super mellow playlist designed to make me feel warm and fuzzy, and keep my cadence down to a manageable pace. It worked on both counts, and took me someplace I did not expect.
Our Song... How many tunes have I thought of over the years as Our Song? Sweehearts. Friends. Room mates. Cast mates. Unrequited loves. Heroes. Villians. So many times I have thought of this melody or that one as Our Song. Without explanation, and in no particular order, here are a few that wound up on my iPod during today's run...
At one time or another, each has been Our Song: the one that made me think of someone I loved. And hearing them can still send my heart and my senses to places long ago and far away.
But as I was running today, feeling waves of nostalgia and warm smiles of rememberance glowing inside, the thought occurred to me... I've never really had MY song. The one that I feel like I can own as a personal anthem.
I mean there's Born to Run, and Freebird: great rockers from my youth, songs that are still on my playlist and in my favorite workout mixes. But they feel more like the anthems of my generation than songs of my own.
There are songs that move and excite me for deeply personal reasons every time I hear them. Graceland. Walking in Memphis. Even Y.M.C.A. by the Village People.
But I'm not sure I could point to one and say, "There. That's me. Play that one at my funeral. That's how I want you to remember me. That's how I think of myself."
I'm not sure what My Song should sound like. Maybe it hasn't been written yet. Maybe I'm writing it myself, right now. Or maybe it's out there waiting for me do discover it or recognize it or finally grow into it...
Funny thing, running. I started out intending to get a little fresh air and think happy thoughts about a pretty doggone good basketball team. Four miles later, and I find myself in the warm embrace of a kind of existential mystery that can keep a man's heart beating and feet moving for a good long time. Went out the door looking for some exercise... wound up looking for myself. Not finding any answers, but quite content with the mystery for now.
Satisfied not to know. That's becoming a sort of a theme in my life, these days.
Come to think of it, maybe I do know what my song should be. For the time being, I think I'll go with this one right here.
Keep on Tryin'. That's how we do it in Pennsyltucky.