Thursday, June 2, 2011

Running and Crying

There is usually an intersection during a work out that is filled with worry and fear; it's a place that hurts, physically, that is. Can I continue? And sometimes this manifests emotionally.

Some pretty serious changes going on in my life (not anything to do with my marriage) but let's just say there's some stuff happening that I can't write about. So. Running helps. And listening to amazing music while running helps. Here's what's been getting me through.

1. Eminem. "I'm Not Afraid." His powerful voice, the rap, drives me up the hill in tears.

"It was my decision to get clean, I did it for me. Admittedly, I probably did it subliminally for you, so I could come back a brand new me you helped see me through. And you don't even realize what you did, believe me you."

This is a pretty amazing version with his band performing on Letterman. A tiny performance. Intimate and revealing. This is not my typical running song. It's so serious. So apologetic and unapologetic all at once. This tirade turns into a racehorse of a song and at the end, I find myself proud to be listening to it.

2. Foo Fighter's "My Hero." Please. "Truth or consequence say it aloud." Dave Grohl, I'm starting to think you're my hero. You get me up that hill every time, man.  This is not the version I run to. But it's so beautiful, I had to add it.I am going to bawl when I see them do this live.

3. Stevie Nicks "Edge of Seventeen." In my mind I'm Stevie Nicks. I'm young and wearing a loose shirt with tight black jeans. I'm playing the piano and a few girls are behind me chanting "ooh baby, ooh, say ooh..." My hot boyfriend is playing the guitar next to me. You are now getting a very close inspection of my inner rock star fantasies. My love for Stevie is nothing new. I've been pretending to be Stevie since my mother hung a Fleetwood Mac poster on the back of my door when I was about 10. I love Stevie at any age, but Jesus, you don't get any cuter than this.
"He was no more than a baby then. Well, he seemed broken hearted, something within him."
Oh those broken hearted men and boys. It took me about 17 years to stop picking up those kinds of souls.

There are some singers so profound that they just bring you to the edge, and that's where I've been finding myself on my runs. Just on the edge. Crying. Tears and sweat mixed and embedded on the freckles and wrinkles of my face. My breath so heavy and final. It's good, I know.

It's good to let it out. And when I was a child, I remember my mother singing Rosie Grier's song, "It's Alright to Cry," from my favorite childhood album, Free To Be You And Me. I sing the same song now to my kids. Because it is alright to cry. Even with the sun burning your salty tears when you're running. I'll walk in the door, still crying, as I did this morning. Elke with babysitter. Jake at school. And I collapse into my counter, my head hovered, and I let it all go.

And then I take a shower.

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