I’m running another half marathon in a month, for which I may be woefully under-prepared, but I’m going to do it anyway. I’m not too concerned about that though, nor am I concerned about Joe Roch, my running buddy, bailing on me. This time, my worry really has little to do with the physical demands or potential loneliness (although I haven’t ever run a race with another person before, so I don’t care too much, mostly I’m just being mean to Joe), it’s the thought of running without my beloved Ipod.
This race does not allow portable music devices because of “safety” concerns. To them I ask, “Will I be running with the traffic? Are we just doing laps around the Jai Alai field on a game day?” It’s a big race, and I’m fairly confident that the streets will be blocked off appropriately, so why torture me this way?
I know “real” runners don’t listen to music. The hardcore ones don’t need anything–sometimes not even shoes, but that is not my scene. I am a wimp, I admit it. I want my crappy Rob Thomas and Paramore jams, and I want to focus on something other than the sound of my own breathing.
I’m incredibly tempted to try to sneak something in, but I fear having it taken away or getting disqualified. For all of my snarky attitude, I still remain, shockingly obedient. I’m fairly certain though, that there will be plenty of people who didn’t see that part of the website, and who will bring Ipods just like they always would. We’ll see what I end up doing.
The last half marathon I ran was in Fargo, and I had my Ipod with me (thankfully). I kept it turned down low enough so I could still hear the spectators yelling at us, because that’s always fun, and there was one guy who I will never forget. He was standing on the sidewalk, by himself, looking like he was just out for his morning walk and happened across a marathon. He didn’t have signs or noisemakers, but he just kept clapping and yelling, “You love this! This is fun for you! You could do this all day!”
I’d like to bring that guy along if I can’t have my Ipod.