A runner’s stream of consciousness
I decided to run today as opposed to going to karate. Fridays are slated for “review day” in which you basically work on your own, trying in vain to remember various forms and routines. Maybe I have learning deficits, or old age has siphoned off my memory, but I find this type of independent learning extremely frustrating. In fact, a few weeks ago, I actually walked out of class, (guess I blew my mild-mannered Clark Kent cover) mumbling some obscure epithet. Yes, I came back after expelling my negative energy and practiced rolls and falls for the remainder of class. Interestingly enough, I started something. It seemed as if no one else had been exposed to rolling and falling, and the following week was dedicated solely to these endeavors. Fancy that.
So, getting back to the activity of the day - running. I find that when I run, a myriad of thoughts and impressions drift through my mind, not unlike free-association or stream of consciousness writing. I find it rather interesting and thought that you might too. Maybe this happens to everyone engaged in a repetitive, somewhat hypnotic activity. You’ll have to let me know. Warning: the following account is full of incomplete sentences, musical references and other grammatical nightmares. Read on if you do not shy away from such things.
“Some Beach.” That’s what was playing on my mp3:
Driving down the interstate
Running thirty minutes late
Singin’ Margaritaville and minding my own
Some foreign car drivin’ dude with the road rage attitude
Pulled up beside me talkin’ on his cell phone
He started yelling at me like I did something wrong
He flipped me the bird an’ then he was gone
Some beach, somewhere
There’s a big umbrella casting shade over an empty chair
Palm trees are growin’ and a warm breezes a blowing
I picture myself right there
On Some beach, somewhere
I like how he says “Some beach” with that country twang. Say it out loud. Sounds like it could be mistaken as another phrase, yes? Now that’s down-home humor!
The road was a Paul Klee masterpiece: thick black lines of tar. Looking down at yellow leaves on textured asphalt. Pretty darned hot out here. Just keep going. Further on to my right a Constable landscape. Serpentine running, aiming for an extra inch of shade. Hoping for a slow song to walk to. Good, another country tune, stop running. Oh no, the tempo is increasing. Feet get a mind of their own and take off. Water fountain up the hill. Decision time: Do I want water enough to trudge all the way up that hill, or will it only make me thirstier. Go for it. Surprise! A breeze on the way up. Had I passed this by I would have missed that. Deep. What! The water fountain is not working, oh there it goes. Down the hill to the halfway point.
The sign says STOP. So I do. Oh. Turn around and head back. “Looking For You” comes on. Seriously funky, stop running, time to strut. Hope no one sees me. To a chipmunk I recite Kirk Franklin, “You there, in the back now, lets go now. LADIES!” Chipmunk runs for cover. I laugh. Thinking about blogging my run. And how thoughts made manifest by any means are susceptible to editing. The directors cut remains in the mind.
“Days Go By” plays:
I’m changing lanes and talkin’ on the phone
Drivin’ way too fast.
And the interstate’s jammed with gunners like me
Afraid of comin’ in last.
But somewhere in the race we run,
We’re coming undone…CHORUS:
And days go by…
I can feel ‘em flyin’
Like a hand out the window in the wind.
The cars go by…
Yeah it’s all we’ve been given,
So you better start livin’ right now
‘Cause days go by…
Oh and a woo-hoo…Out on the roof just the other night
I watched the world flash by,
Headlights, taillights,
Running through a river of neon signs.
Mmm-hmmm…
But somewhere in the rush I felt,
We’re losing ourselves…
I pick up my pace and enjoy the fact that I can move. Are these heat induced hallucinations or normal (good, concise word) reflections designed to occupy my idle mind?Primitive thoughts insert themselves as I near the end of my run. Big glass of water. Hot. Big glass of water. Walk. Hey, I can see my house from here. Some Beach begins to play. The cycle is complete. I wonder - if I listen to this same playlist next time, will I think the same things?Thanks for “listening”
Sue
P.S. After posting this I considered removing it, wondering if it was “inappropriate” in some way. I think it is my response to the question of “pulling punches, mincing words, etc.” posted in regards to the Truth piece. If we constantly dilute and refine what we think to the point of universal safety, do we become banal, generic followers who shy away from all forms of risk taking? Without your opinions, I remain clueless.
on August 11th, 2007 at 11:47 am
Music plays an important role in most people’s lives. It’s a wonderful form of expression – whether its happiness, sadness, tranquility, motivation or getting you all riled up. I believe that our physical, mental, emotional and spiritual selves require music. If you think about it, we go through life in musical accompaniment; when we’re newborns we get rocked to sleep by that particular lullaby, as a toddler you play/sing “patty cake, patty cake, bakers man…”, adolescents will be a rebel through that wonderful stage in life with their own musical tastes, romantic ballads will bring two lovers together, etc…Whatever you choose to do, whether it’s doing work around the house, working out, at work, driving in the car or simply a family gathering - music can and will enrich that experience. There is music everywhere, in all walks of life – the sound of the water rolling against the rocks in a river, the birds singing, crickets chirping, the rain, the ocean tiding on shore.
I really enjoyed this blog, like the others, it’s been very thought provoking subject and am glad you posted it!
So in conclusion, you may not think of the same things on your next run if that same play list goes through your ears and enters your mind however some memories will be associated with it – for example, when you run past that area where the chipmunk “ran for cover” you’’ probably laugh to yourself. After reading that I couldn’t help but laugh because I could totally see you doing that – and so what if someone saw you – if anything you’d inspire them - you’re too cute!!
“Music is the mediator between
the spiritual and the sensual life.”
— Ludwig van Beethoven
on August 12th, 2007 at 5:11 pm
Carrie, thanks for the insight. I never considered the fact that we are ushered into the world with music. Even the sounds heard in utero could be considered music. And as we exit the world, music is used to create a mood and assist with the process. Thanks for the fresh approach and the ability to see things from a different angle.
Sue