I realized I had left something out of my post about Friday’s run. I thought about that some more on Sunday’s run, so I thought, hey, that’s worth another post.
While running Friday I heard the ice cream truck. It’s a good thing I don’t carry cash when I run, or I’m sure I would convince myself that I could run just as well or better while eating ice cream. After all, the sugar would give me an energy boost, wouldn’t it? And when my hands got all sticky, I would be encouraged to run faster so as to get in the shower sooner. Well, we’ll never know about these things.
I had been noticing the ice cream truck lately and my first thought was that it was too early for such a thing. Then I thought, I eat ice cream all year round. And ice cream truck drivers have to make a living, too. I must confess, I’m not a fan of the sound of the ice cream truck. I don’t like the electronic music this one plays, and it plays the same song over and over. Sometimes you hear a different song, but then you hear that song over and over. Well I’m sure some people listen to it and all they hear is ice cream.
So there I was running and listening to the ice cream truck playing the same song I’ve heard for two or three days now. It was really OK, though, because it encouraged me to keep running and get out of earshot. We must take advantage of whatever motivation presents itself. I was happy when I no longer heard the electronic song (it’s quite out of my head today, though, so I couldn’t tell you which song it was). The funny thing was, a while later in the run, when I had been up and down the hill and had only to run on fairly level ground to home, I realized: my head was playing that tune and I was running in time to the music. I had to laugh at myself. I must admit it was a good pace to run at.
This morning when I was running, I did not hear the ice cream truck, but started thinking about playing the same tune over and over. I remember a period of time when I was getting a ride to work with a friend, and she kept the same cassette in her player (it was the ’90s). Every morning it seemed to be on the same song. I didn’t like the song, and it did not grow on me. Oh well, we learn to deal with these little inconveniences.
Then I started thinking about DJs who seem to like certain songs. In the North Country in the late ’80s, early ’90s, I listened to the radio quite a bit. One DJ played “Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down” every damn Monday. OK, we get it! You don’t like Monday! A DJ on another station played a Doors song every Friday, “Hello, I Love You, Won’t You Tell Me Your Name” (I realize I’m writing the lyrics instead of the actual titles of these songs, but I thought it would be helpful for people unfamiliar with the songs). I figured that’s what the DJ would say to some woman in a bar later that night. Do you suppose it was an effective pick up line? I should have called the station and asked him.
So I was thinking about all this as I was running. It was colder than I was dressed for, so I needed the distraction. Imagine my chagrin when I realized that for the latter part of my run I was running to the tune of “Hello, I Love You Won’t You Tell Me Your Name?” Where’s that ice cream truck when you need it?
Mohawk Valley Girl 