Quiet
I talk a lot; my three-year old talks almost as much as I do (there is no question where he gets it). I like music, and we have a piano, guitar, and small drums in the living room, along with various noise-making toys, whistles, and games. We have a basketball hoop in the main living area, and the ball bounces around the room like a pinball, smashing into blinds and windows and furniture.
We love it. Well, let me rephrase that. I love it; my quieter husband prefers less noise overall, but he also has his office TV running CNBC all day long, and he streams radio stations on his laptop at other times.
I started running last year, to my utter shock. I've never liked to run, but I needed a goal and a way to get in shape that didn't require much time or money. So I signed myself up for a 5K race last March, and I enjoyed it so much that I'm running it again this year, but this time with a group of girlfriends who are making a weekend out of it.
In the process of training, I had a fantastic running playlist and the song selections included some of my favorite hair bands and current pop tunes with a running rhythm. At some point, a few headlines about runners - mothers, like me - who had been attacked on the road caught my eye. A friend of mine shared an article about personal safety and awareness (thank you, Forrest), and I took it to heart. The article made several valid points about why it's not as smart to be alone and plugged into music, and instead recommended tuning into your surroundings.
So I put away my iPod and decided to learn to run without it.
As a fan of CIA counter-terrorist fiction - mainly from authors Vince Flynn, Brad Thor, and Tom Clancy - I understood what the author was alluding to. I know to sit with my back to the wall. I know to look for exits and escape routes wherever I go. I know to watch for strange behavior at the airport. But I wasn't paying attention to audio clues when I ran.
Today, in fact, as I was nearing the end of my warmup walk on the street near my house, I heard a car slow down and stop right next to me. I stepped off of the sidewalk onto the grass behind me, the story of Jaycee Dugard's 18-year abduction fresh in my mind, even months after I read her book. You're not going to get close enough to taze me, dude, I thought. The man in the silver Mercedes coupe asked me how to get to the country club down the road, and I gave him directions, my heart slowing down as he pulled away with a wave and a thank you.
Running without noise was hard, at first, because I was used to the music being my motivation. I enjoyed the opportunity to listen to some of my favorite songs, and I believed that the lyrics and the beat were pushing me up the hills.
Instead, I learned, it was all me. Now, my shadow pushes me on and encourages me to keep going. If you get close enough, you might hear me whispering You're almost there, or a Sally moment from When Harry Met Sally as I'm cresting a hill with a Yes! Yes! Yes!
Figuring out how to motivate myself on the road - I do fairly short runs, clocking just a few miles, at most - has been a worthwhile lesson. Instead of focusing on the music, I think about my posture, my cadence, and my footfalls. I have an opportunity to think through problems and plan projects.
As much as I hate to admit it, my hearing, after years of heavy metal and hair band concerts, is not what it used to be.
When I'm outside walking or running listening only to my thoughts, I can hear much more clearly, both literally and figuratively.
I didn't think I had a theme for this year, but two words are repeating themselves in my mind and in my blog posts: awareness and mindfulness. Maybe I'm learning to incorporate the silence after all.
That's not to say I don't miss the music; I do. Running sans iPod isn't for everyone; like most things, do what works for you. When I'm indoors, on a treadmill, I can't resist the siren call of the Food Network as I run.
When I arrive back home, I take off my running shoes and sit down at my computer, and tune into the noise again. I appreciate the quiet, when I let it in.
P.S. For more running inspiration, follow my friends Leigh Ann and Missy. Both Leigh Ann and Galit Breen have recommended a book called Quiet, so I'm adding it to my reading list.
Love,
