Sunday, November 10, 2019

Music

I was hit. I rolled onto the ground, screaming in agony while the attacker raced past me in the hallway. I heard shouting across the room, and quickly regained my senses. I picked up my gun and peered around the corner. Instantly a bullet wizzed past my head, and I tucked back into my quarters. Knowing my options were limited, I stepped up on my bed and looked out over the top of the wall. I could see people running down the halls towards the other side of the building, and so I picked up my gun and aimed. As the people entered into the open area, I followed their lead and made a clean shot. I quickly ducked beneath the wall, right as a bullet flew past overhead. As the battle continued raging, I decided to step out of my defensive position and run through the halls. Nowhere was safe.

When we were done, we packed up our nerf guns into a large trash bag. One of the other kids, knowing we would have an open night at camp, had brought an entire bag of nerf guns so we could have a war with both sides of the dorm. I don't remember how many of us stayed the weekend, but it was an amazing experience. We were at the International Music Camp, a childhood love of mine, nestled deep within the Turtle Mountains, in a no-man's land between Canada and North Dakota called the "International Peace Gardens".

Throughout the summer, many different one-week camps are offered to high school students, and this particular year I chose to do two in a row. For me, this meant spending the one off-day in between weeks at the camp, with many of the international students there for multiple weeks. We played, we ate, and we got our sleep.  I have wonderful memories of practicing and performing music, dorm life, meeting new people, taking part in the 'World's Greatest Drummer' competition, and playing absurd amounts of 4-square. I actually looked to work there after high school, but upon learning that you had to be 21 to be a counselor, I instead worked at Camp of the Cross, where I fell in love with North Dakota, running, the countryside, met my wife, got engaged, and got married.

Music has always been a big part of my life.

It started in middle school, when my band teacher Mrs. Morrison encouraged me to try out for all-state band in 7th grade. I made it, and every year after that until I graduated high school. The music I had the privilege to perform and the musicians I was fortunate to meet changed me into a new person over time. International Music Camp (IMC) opened my eyes to another world of music I didn't know existed. I even auditioned for a music scholarship at UND because I was interested in majoring in music in college.

Over the years, music and running have started to intertwine more and more. I don't necessarily remember when this happened, but at some point I started to occasionally listen to my iPod while running. To this day, I still do way more runs without music than ones where I do, but it has still taken some crappy days and made them a bit better. I discovered mixes, or long periods of music without ads or switching. First, it was hour-long mashup mixes from the White Panda, such as Pandamonium and Bearly Legal. Then, it was hour-long Panda Waves mixes from the same group. After that came 'Nice Hair with the Chainsmokers', featuring the Chainsmokers, a relatively new group that was making noise in the world of EDM. Mixes gave me big chunks of music to listen to while running, making the 50, 60, 70, 80, and even 90 mile weeks seem a little shorter.

As I've mentioned on here before, runners are increasingly turning to music as a means of helping to defeat the pain of running. You look at any local race, from 5k to marathon, and you will find many runners with arm sleeves holding their phone or music device. Airpods are becoming normal. Even in ultramarathoning and trail races, often held in beautiful and scenic locations, racers will often have music to assist. While I refuse to listen to music during workouts or long runs, easy can breeze by when you have music that gets you fired up.

Music is truly a universal language. I have recently joined a community orchestra in an attempt to rekindle the fire I had in high school, and the first night I attended we jumped right into music. Even though I was in Virginia (instead of North Dakota) and with a bunch of adults (instead of youth), so many things were the same. Forte means loud, piano means soft, rests are easier to count out loud or with fingers, and solos are scary. Across the world, every culture has some form of music; in fact, music is one of the few things that every group of people on Earth shares and has shared in common. Chinese music has a distinct sound, middle Eastern music has a distinct sound, and Native American music in the US has a distinct sound.

Music connects us. Music brings families together, drives people to tears, and encourages celebration. Music can be used to mourn the dead and praise the living. Music helps us to defeat silence when it encircles us. Music inspires. Many times I've let music lift me up and prepare me for big races.

 It's been awhile since I've listened to music while running. Maybe it's time to dig out the old iPod and give it a whirl.

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