Again with the Music

What I know about the electro-chemistry of the brain is mostly a pastiche of misinformation gathered from a few hundred hours of sci-fi, a semester of half-understood sensation and perception, and a fleeting understanding of basic biology.

One of the most interesting things to me about how we think is the way we can have multiple opinions about the same thing at the same time.

I was out running today- it was 50 and sunny and unbelievable. At 7:30 am I was toweling off from my shower, cold from the water and wondering how, how would I ever be ready again to swim in a race, how would the water ever be warm again. Silly thoughts, but...

And there I was, four and a half hours later, running in just racing kit, sweating, outside and happy about it. I was about 35 minutes into my run, the wind was blowing steady and hard into my face, and that was when Alanis Morissette came on- 'On the Tequila'.

I like Alanis Morissette. It's part soft spot and part that I can draw quite a bit out of songs like Ironic, which is, oddly enough, a great workout song. However, I have never been sold on 'On The Tequila', especially when working out. The song is a fine song, I'm sure, but it has everything that doesn't work for me in a song. It's light, it's an affirmation of life, and even at it's most perceptive it treats the subjects of that perception with kid gloves- like 'Thought You Should Know' on prozac and without the f word.

When running, this is not a song that helps me. And yet, as I reached back to shuffle on to the next song, I stopped, considered whether or not I should listen to the song again anyway, a part of me convinced I either need to keep giving the song a chance, or even that I need to let music like this into my mindset. This is definitely thinking on the blade of dichotomy.

So I left the song on, I ran fairly well, and I came away thinking the same thing about the song I had before it started. It didn't make me a more mellow, introspective person (good luck with that), but it didn't ruin my run.

Still, when the next song came on- Linkin Park's Bleed it Out- I immediately picked it up, and when I reached the four lane section of route 34 I had to time the crossing of safely against the light, I was running off the hook.

Then some Nickelback came on and everything was good....

Why Music Anyway - An East Coast Liberal Learns to Live with Nickleback

Today was a pretty decent day here in CT weather-wise if your goal was to get in a workout. It wasn't so good if you wanted a white christmas- amazing how almost all the snow was melted this morning.

We got up, opened stockings, had traditional breakfast, opened presents, took a Lathan-style walk, then took turns doing workouts and trying to enforce the nap time and zone. Pictures here

When it was my turn, I cranked up my iphone to Dark Horse. I wanted to do a sort of time-trial effort on the mountain bike on the Hammerfest bike course and then do a run that would take me on the Branford Road Race and Y Walk and Run courses.

I got off to a really good start, and had a really good workout. The two loops of the bike course were hard, the first one was faster than the second, and what seemed like a mild breeze at my back seemed like a strong headwind in my face- no doubt being on a 20 pound bike had something to do with that...

I got off the bike and started running, and I was running really well, and I was definitely into the music.

But I have to admit that enjoying Nickelback's music is a little embarrassing sometimes. I've always been pretty attuned to the lyrics in the music I listen to. While I can't listen to music that sound horrible just because the lyrics are awesome, I can get turned off to music with lyrics that really bother me. Yeah, Sweet Home Alabama is a great song, but the words, well, I just can't stand the lyrics.

The funny thing about Nickelback is that I love working out to the music. And the worst part of it is, that when they are at their drunkest, most debaucherous, and most mysonginistic is when the music is at its best. The lyrics are often sophomoric and seem to appeal to the 17 year old boy the band has got to be assuming is in all of us. Yet the song Burn it to the Ground is at its best at the point where the lyrics go 'No class, no taste, no shirt and shit-faced.' While Dark Horse is not entirely given over to this, the songs that have a higher value- Never Gonna Be Alone, especially- don't always carrying the same impact, and leave you having a sort of weird, metallic, scratchy-voiced Air Supply flashback.

There's nothing boastful about finding enjoyment in a song like Something in Your Mouth. And I couldn't help but think about how many people view music as uplifting, spiritual, something to help a person find contentment, even completeness. I get this- I can feel a little bit of that when I listen to Gregorian Chant, Ravi Shankar, even (forgive me) Alanis Morissette.

But something Yo Yo Ma was saying on public radio last night connected the dots for me as I was running. He was talking about how he dislikes CDs because they are a possession. They do not allow for a dialogue, but rather enforce a monologue. He's running a contest allowing you to participate in his music: by collaborative sampling of Dona Nobis Pacem.

And that's the thing. When I listen to Nickelback, or Nine Inch Nails (whose lyrics are far more complex) and other bands making those kinds of music, I am establishing a two way dialogue. This is loud, in your face music. these people are shouting at me, and I'm shouting right back, not with my mouth (unless you hear me singing along), but with my legs and arms. What draws me to Nickelback isn't the women-as-sex-objects or let's drink ourselves stupid lyrics, it's the balls to the wall energy and emotion.

I'm not a highly talented athlete. I work hard, I try to race hard. And this music, well, it puts me in that emotional/physical space I need to be in. It's a tool.

Yes, I enjoy the music. Even if the lyrics rub me the wrong way, I do enjoy the music.

And there's nothing wrong with that. For all the right reasons...

Cow Chip 6K Cross Country Race

I left late for the race, which is often a good think for me when I'm driving. I jacked up the Nickelback and drove from my house to Trumbull in 25 minutes. A good exhilarating drive gets me going in the morning, and this was a nice, safe, but fast ride.

I warmed up with Charlie Hornak, stripped down to my EH gear, and did my strides between the starting line and the goal post- which we are required to pass under. The middle of the football field was pretty muddy, and the mud was about half-frozen. That is a recipe for slipping, so I did quite a few passes at race speed to get my line. I like using picking a line as a warm-up. It keeps me from getting nervous, allows me to do my warm-up, and hopefully gets me off to a good start.

The race started out and it was a typical scrum, some kids that had no business firing out of the blocks at the front, the high school kids that are legitimate working together, and a few older guys like me trying to hang in with the main pack. I was right on the shoulder of the kid I thought looked like the biggest threat. I got the the exact line I wanted- I had to turn my upper body to get my right shoulder clear of the goalpost- basically using it to scrape off anyone that might be trying to take a more inside line to the flags.

It didn't matter. As I turned back, I saw about half a dozen people who had decided that through the goalposts didn't apply to them and had taken a direct line to the first flag, which to me is kind of, well, cheating.

It didn't matter. There was a group of about six of us in the front, and I was the caboose. But the pace felt pretty moderate. Then again, it often does. I can't tell you how many times at half a mile I've been in an A or B group (usually B) and found myself thinking about how pleasant the pace was, only to be dying at a mile and kicking myself. But no, this was hard, but doable. Nobody was pulling away, although the kid I'd marked out of the gate was asserting himself. He had a chance to catch himself some pavement, but I stayed on the grass because it was shorter and the grass was half-frozen. I was able to make it a two man race and we pulled away from the other guys.

I was trying to decide a strategy- I wasn't expecting to be in a two-man race half a mile into the race but I know how rare these chances are for a guy like me and you have to immediately change your mindset and start thinking about winning the race. I wanted to press him, but in a short race, well, if it's a ten-miler, I think you can dog your opponent until they crack. Anything under 5 miles, I don't have the raw mental fortitude to play possum. It's a smarter strategy, but I'd rather be in front and trying to run away than off the shoulder and trying to hold on. I hate that. No matter how well I'm running I feel like I'm barely hanging on.

We traded the lead a few times in the woods, but I never felt like any of the times the kid I was jockeying with was making that terminal pass. I know that feeling- getting passed and knowing it's over, 'it's been nice, but...'

I came out of the woods and decided I wanted to be in first. It's a weakness. It's not just that I want to run my race. I'm not a speed guy. I'm either running from the front or going off the back. And I'd rather be the guy doing the hard work. So I followed Marty on his bike and hauled my ass over the grass. I had a song from Nickelback in my head and I just ran.

Being in the lead is really, really rare for me. It's not easy. One one hand, the foremost thing you have to do is just keep running like nothing's different. You either run your race or you don't. Whether you are first, fifth, or fiftieth, you have to try and maintain a sane pace. That's not to say that maybe you don't go a little harder. But not much.

But it's tough. If you are leading a one-loop road race you follow the pace car and head for the finish line. But this was a first-year cross country course on a course that winds back on itself (plenty of double-headed arrows). Well-marked or not, pace bike in parts and volunteers in others or not, if you make a mistake, so does everyone else. I would HATE to screw up one of Marty's races with some kind of half-brained wrong turn.

The sun was out, there was no one in front of me, and I was trying to run my widest stride. I was running well, I was running cross-country.

I would have loved to have been able to just relax. Nickelback's If Today Was Your Last Day was in my head. I couldn't relax. I just kept plowing along, never looking back. Through the woods, around the fence, and back towards the barn.

Marty says 'Jump the stream.'

I go in full-bore. Jump-schmump. I made a mistake jumping a stream running a race in Stillwater one dark October day when I was 16 years old- and yes, I remember crazy-shit like that- and ever since I go down in, and come back out. Only my foot caught on a root. I took a full header into the ditch.

First rule- your feet never stop moving. Second rule, those things on the end of your wrist- second pair of feet. I grabbed the long grass, hauled myself back to my feet, threw the grass aside, and started running again, glad just not to have been overtaken.

I followed Marty until I realised he was going to ride on top of the hill, but I was headed down.

My feet got really wet as I ran along the stream, but I didn't care. I had to find that last gear and keep moving. Before I knew it I was back in the woods, hauling real ass now, running well.

The rest of the race after the fall was uneventful. I saw I had a chance to break 22, so I worked to the line, and that was it.

Race over. I'd finished before everyone else.

Sweet !

Thanks Marty. And thanks to Mark from Trailheads for the sweet head gear he provided the race winners. I was actually wearing a Trailheads hat during the race, and I got another awesome one today. He's got a lot of great gear, and this is the time of year you need to keep your head warm. He's got a great hat that lets the sweat out and the heat in.

The Nickelback Workout- Dark Horse Spin

Nickelback may be formulaic, the lyrics may sometimes veer into the sophomoric, but the music itself is great for working out. High-tempo, high-energy, perfect for spinning.

I bought the new album, Dark Horse, on iTunes. I have an Apple TV in my basement, but you can do this with an iPod (change the sleep time for the display). You need to be able to see the song time.

There are ten songs on the album. Set iTunes to random so this workout will be a little different each time you do it.

Song One- warm-up, small ring 15
Song Two- big ring 15, one leg drill, change leg every 20 seconds, 5 seconds between legs, 3 times then spin small ring 15
Song Three- big ring 15, stand two minutes to two minutes, thirty seconds tempo pace, then small ring 15
Songs Four through Nine- start with big ring 23, build into time trial pace by end of thirty seconds, shift down one gear every thirty seconds, maintain time trial pace, but in the last full thirty seconds, plus whatever time is left over it, shift to big ring 12 (or 11 if you have it) and stand
Song Ten- Small ring 15, cool down

The idea is to use the first thirty seconds of each song during the time-trial efforts to recover and build. You could also do the same workout as a recovery spin by aiming for a slightly below-tempo pace during the build instead of time-trialing, since you are in relatively easy gears most of the time.In that case, stand in big ring 15 instead of big ring 12.

Running New Haven- Undressed

It's funny how some race courses retain their basic charms and feel year round, while others- don't.

I was looking to do a longer run today and the way my schedule and day care worked out, the only option to do that was to do it at the end of my work day at work. That means running in West Haven and New Haven. A run up to an hour I can do in the area of Yale Bowl, but I was hoping for 75 minutes, so I decided to try something different.

I headed up 139 to 34 and hung a right, ran down to 10 and once on Route 10 I was on the race course. Of course, on race day, the road is closed, there are cheering people spread out all over the course and there are water stations. At 4:15 on a weekday, there's mostly just a lot of traffic, punctuated by the fairly regular interruption of sirens from police, fire, and ambulance (I saw at least one of each during my run).

New Haven is one of those races that just wears you down. Technically, it's a relatively flat, unquestionably fast course. In the real world, the course eats we amateurs up. It's almost always hot (like it was today, although today was worse), humid (again like today), and the course sends you on a series of upgrades and uphills.

Running from work starts with a decent climb, a tough downhill, and then a decent flat stretch before turning downhill on 34. That part of the run was easy, but once I turned onto 10 I pretty much felt the course. I was in the grass on the opposite side of the road, there was a lot of traffic, but the tunes were good, the knee was manageable and I was looking forward to getting on the bridge and climbing.

I got over the bridge, around the underpass below 95 and started working my way towards Long Wharf. I usually feel like I'm struggling in that stretch. If I started out too fast, that's where I fade. I turned onto the that street IKEA is on and by some ironic twist, I hit the exact place where the 10K mat is at 37:10 or so. Right on schedule, except I hadn't run 10K to get there. I went under another underpass and I was on Long Wharf.

Long Wharf, at least today, looked to be subtly uphill. But that wasn't what I really noticed. Let's just say that Long Wharf on race day is a sanitized placed. Hopefully whatever happens on Long Wharf stays on Long Wharf, or at least in the cars on Long Wharf it happens in. At the end of Long Wharf I wrapped back onto Water Street, headed for Route 1.

Route 1, Downtown New Haven.

Tough road.

Tough neighbourhood.

Even the churches have bars on the windows. No one should have to live in a place where the churches have bars on the windows. No one.

Of course, it's all too easy for me to breeze into a rough neighbourhood during a hard run, feel bad about it, and then get on with my own upper-middle class life and go back to my nice suburban house, two-car, two-garage, one child in great day care. There's something pointedly wrong about that.

Towards the end of this section of the run, the song Nightswimming came on my iPod. I've been given a little ribbing about having this song on my iPod and there's no question it's a downer. I have a little bit of history with the song- songs about swimming in general- but this is one that I associate with Lake Placid. I'm running along and there are literally shards of glass underfoot with each and every step. There were places where the sidewalk simply ended, just a dirt path. Abandoned buildings and businesses and lots that grow over and aren't grabbed up by greedy developers to be re-developed and re-sold. Bars on doors.

Depressing. No question. I realise I'm getting an emotional undercurrent seeing these things which is basically the same one I get when I hear the song and think about Lake Placid the years I'm not doing that race (like this one). Some places have a pull on you, but let's face it, there's a big difference between doing a race and well, having to live and work somewhere that's, well, just unpleasant, some place where there are bars on even the screen doors.

And then it happens. you break through to the route 10 crossing, the song changes from Nightswimming to Nickleback's Figured You Out, you pick up the pace and leave it behind you. And as you head for the final, long hill, you get U2's Beautiful Day (talk about a song that evokes Lake Placid) and the sun very coincidentally comes back out, and it really is a beautiful day. And you wipe the sweat off, you jump in the car and head off to day care, the workout good, the workout over.

But there's this nagging feeling you're still missing something...