I am a huge fan of music when it comes to my work, my coach doesn’t care for it, but its use is always strategic by me. I won’t use it when a session calls for mega concentration and I am trying to master something. I won’t use it if the track is crowded, hectic, and especially not when the throwers are around.
But in a gym, alone at the track and definitely in anticipation of a “NSW” (No shame workout), out comes the Nano and ear buds.
It is essential at big meets in the hours before I leave for competition, and picks me up if I am having a hard time getting started before practice. All I have to do is crank on “Bootylicious” by Beyonce and I’m lethal…well somewhat.
Play Lists
I have play lists dedicated to everything:
“Rio 007” was created for the Pan Am Games in 2007 where I won my 2nd silver medal. It included a compilation of popular hits of the summer of 007.
“Hot Traxx” is a: ‘Perdita get you head in the game and stop wasting peoples time’ sorta play list for when I feel ‘myeh’ at the start of the work day. It's loaded with radio hits and songs that make me want to dance...in between warm up drills.
“Twelve:46” is a list of songs that are crazy, loud, racy.
12.46 is my Canadian record time, and it will get played to remind me what I need to do, the power song on that list is “Conceited” by Remy ma.
“Smashing Ducks” is another, it gets played on occasion but usually only at big meets. It's a classic, never gets old and one of my favs. ;)
The New Breed of Play List
Then there is the crop of songs that have got me through the last seven months, a new breed of play lists was created. Duck Smashing need not apply, as I was not able to hunt this summer. Rio 007 was so yesterday, and so was Twelve:46.
To keep me inspired I called upon a play list that could get me through the tedium, pain, and isolation of what I was doing.
Shorts with Cheek Padding
The "Lance Armstrong" was born, and no I didn’t have any testes removed. But I needed the inspiration for the endless days of living on a stationary bike, the burning, yet still shrinking quads. The butt cheeks that hurt non-stop, I almost broke down and bought those cycling shorts with the padding.
Eek!
No Where Fast
11 miles on a bike hurts, especially for a hurdler who sprints for less than 13 seconds. Sitting in a gym on a bike, unlike Governor Palin, unable to say “Thanks but no thanks to the bridge to no where”.
“The Lance” with its crunk, upbeat melodies allowed me to focus on the snare, rather than my own burning chest. To second RiRi as she begs the DJ to “Please don’t stop the Music”.
Yes DJ let's not. Lest I Perdita, Hurdler interrupted,(formally) fall off this stationary bike.
So I pedalled like crazy, going nowhere; pretty fast, thinking of the King of cycling. Sweating, singing, cycling, hoping to channel some of what he has, and perhaps win 7 days in a row the Tour de
...Yes, I simply stumbled upon it today, glad "The Armstrong" in the last few weeks has become forgotten.
I quickly scrolled my Ipod to the play lists made for running, settling on a medley of all the greats.
I hunted some ducks back in Rio, while running twelve:46...for old times sake.
Till you read again,
Perdita
