The Tuesday run

Tuesday was the first day that I felt good enough to run since last Wednesday when I pulled the plug in the middle of my speed workout.

 

Here’s how it went.

 

Around lunch time, this drum cadence starts throbbing in my head. 

 

DA  -  DA  -  D-DA CH-CH  DA  -  DA  -  D-DA CH-CH  DA  -  DA  -  D-DA CH-CH 

 

Again and again and again…

Then my legs start getting all tingly and I just want to rip off my shirt and run.

 

But I left my bag at home because I was feeling pretty junky in the morning again.

 

Nonetheless, I jam on my headphones and start listening to my pre-race music mix—lots of RATM, Beastie Boys, some Black Eyed Peas…  mostly stuff with driving beats that can be jammed LOUDLY.  No drum cadence, though.  And the drums are getting louder.

 

The 6:00 whistle sounds and I’m out the door like a bullet.  Flying through traffic, weaving in and out of every open space on the freeway, doing my level best to get home NOW.

 

In the door, kiss the missus, kiss the boy, into the bedroom and back out wearing my running gear like Clark Kent in a phone booth.  My feet barely touched the carpet.

 

I jam out 9:30 miles over my 3.64 mile route (a route which I have been calling my “three and a half mile route” and believing it is actually 3.5 miles even though, for some inexplicable reason, it never dawned on me that 3.64 is not, in fact, 3.5 miles and is, in fact, 3.64 miles…) and made it home good and tired and ready for dinner.

 

The drums had gone silent.

 

Later that night, I hear them again—WHAT IS THAT SONG?!?

 

I go on to the electronic answer box and start looking.

And looking…

And looking…

 

Find nothing until the next morning when I chance across the current Gatorade commercial.

 

Yup.  That’s right.  It’s the song from the Gatorade commercial.  It actually has an artist, and a title (Lock it Up) and you can find it on You Tube and download the mp4 file and even a ring tone.

 

So thank you crass commercialism and marketing.  One of your commercials has made its way into my pre-race mix and I’m jamming THAT along with my other sets of music.

 

Is it in you?  It sure as hell is in me…  Bring on the half marathon.  I eat 13.1 miles for breakfast.