Running with an iPod

If I had started running with an iPod sooner, I’d be in much better shape right now. 

I’ve always been an athlete and have spent a good portion of my life working out to various degrees, but shortly after the birth of our second child and my retirement from professional disc golf and competitive volleyball, working out became more of a chore than something to enjoy. (And I’ve got twenty pounds on me to prove it.)

But the chore of working out has once again become a source of enjoyment. And it’s all because of the music.

The girls and I got Mike an iPod for Father’s Day, which was about the time when he doubled the length of his daily run. First he ran with me, where we discussed and solved all the family and business problems facing us. We used this time to chat and enjoy one another’s company. But soon he needed more of that runner’s high, and as I hit the shower, he veered off for several more miles. An iPod seemed in order.

On the first day of iPod running, he had the memory filled with ten thousand Grateful Dead tunes and shaked his way all the way down the street, getting off on that special high. Six weeks later, when he couldn’t join me for our morning workout because of a project at the resort, I borrowed his iPod. A week later, he and the girls bought one for me.

And it wasn’t even Mother’s Day.

I do have a few Grateful Dead favorites on my play list, and even a few of Willow’s hip-hop and/or rap tunes; but my iPod overwhelmingly carries songs that make my daily running in this hot flippin’ desert not about the work out, but instead, about the music. To name a few artists, I’ve got Neil Young, Eric Clapton, The Band, Bonnie Raitt, Joni Mitchell, Phoebe Snow, Chris Isaak, Sting, and perhaps the most uplifting, Gloria Estefan, who covers a lot of standards on her album, “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me.” These songs make me want to throw out my arms and sing while I run. And sometimes I do. But only when I believe no one is watching.

So if you happen to see what appears to be a nutty old lady running down the road, or heaven forbid hear her singing “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me!” please don’t call for the men in the white coats. She may be a little carried away with that so-called runner’s high, but really, she’s just enjoying the music playing in her head.


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