Outlaw Cowboy

One thing that I am adamantly against and cannot understand why people do it, is to run with an iPod or some other listening device. One, it is unsafe and second, why do we need to pipe in noise/music/sound to every dying second of the day? One of the great joys of running is to hear the crunch of frozen leaves underfoot, bullfrogs croaking in the early evening, the cry of a hawk in flight, or to the tune that randomly plays in your head. You don't need a synthetic beat to fall into a rhythm while running. What do you think your beating heart is? What do you think that tune in your head is? Or the conversation with your training partner? I just don't get it! There is so much music and beats going on around you and in your head. Which leads to today's topic.

So while I was out on my eight mile run, I found myself singing Waylon Jennings tunes, which lead to Merle Haggard tunes, which lead to Hank Jr, which lead right back to Hos and Bocephus having a "Conversation." It all started with "Momma Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys" into "Working Man Blues" to so on and so on and so on. Let me be clear, when I say I was singing, I did not literally sing out loud, it was in my head. Though, I must admit, I did sing a little bit of the chorus to "Working Man Blues" while running on the canal. As I was trying to figure out why in the world I was in an outlaw cowboy music mood, when it dawned on me, I fancy myself, as a runner, a cowboy outlaw.

Outlaw Coyboys and runners share some common traits that separate us from the rest of society. First, we make our own rules. It is not that we don't believe in truth, justice and the American way, on the contrary, it is because we believe in these ideas and the pursuit of happiness that we seek to etch out our own path to glory. Just because the mediocre majority longs for McHappiness, the runner and the outlaw cowboy would rather be out on a trail, forging his own bliss. Second, we don't care what the masses think of us. The beauty of the outlaw cowboys was that they didn't give a rip what the establishment thought of them. Likewise, I don't care what people think about my running. If I want to run in the rain, I am going to run in the rain. If I want to run at midnight and howl at the full moon, well, damn it, I don't care, I'm going to run and howl! Last but not least, we are an exclusive club. It is not that most people cannot be a part of our circle, it is just most choose not to. It requires a certain lifestyle that at times is very depressing, melancholy, and flat out hard. Yet, at the same time, it is one with benefits and highs so few ever experience. Most people don't dream of running 100 miles per week. Most don't dream of pushing themselves to the brink of that feeling that your intestines are going explode out your arse. Most don't dream of being faster than anyone else they know covering 1 mile, 5K, 10K or longer by foot. But, to a runner, these are just part of the daily grind to glory and what we live for. Yup, runners and outlaw cowboys are two cousins who share a common longing, but rather on horse or tour bus, the runner chooses to use his own two feet.

So if you pass me out on the road, trail, or country lane, tip your hat as you pass and maybe I will croon you with a little cowboy tune. As always, stay healthy, keep running and enjoy a little Waylon in your head.