Reliving the Playlist

It was 2 AM, 6,000 words, 2 glasses of Avignonesi's Vino Nobile di Montepulciano (2006 - drink now - luscious), and a jam fest to a selection of country music (I knoooww) I found hiding in my iTunes.  I was seeing cross-eyed somewhere around John Denver and poured myself into bed, letting the rest of the playlist run.  Sleep may have won me somewhere around Tim Ryan or Vince Gill.

This morning I was awake a little too early, but solar-powered people need to be in the sun and can't stay in bed when it's practically screaming, "Yo, Val - you know you want it - haul it out here and get it.  Nice kitty cat jammies, by the way."   As we've seen recently, the sun is also a smart-ass.

I made sure that long-lost list of twang was loaded onto the iPod and bopped out to one of my favorite trails across the Arno.  Some of the tunes I hadn't heard in years.

At the top of Piazzale Michelangelo, I looked out over this beautiful city, wondering how many times I will do this before I return to Colorado for the summer.  I had one leg on the wall stretching before my run, humming along to Carrie Underwood, "I guess it's gonna have to hurt, I guess I'm gonna have to cry, and let go of some things I love to get to the other side.  I guess it's gonna break me down..."  Sappy country music undertones aside, I like the way this song implies strength - if you want to be happy, sometimes letting go of things, people, is not easy.  It sucks in fact, especially if you are a "let's just rip the band-aid off and get this over with" kind of person.  "Just do it." (Nike)  But wow - the sun was on my shoulders as I tied my jacket around my waist reminding me that it was so worth it - all of it - to be here, right now.  "Here" being the "no place else you'd rather be" moment.

Off I went down Viale Michelangelo.  It was strange running to music other than my normal selection of rock, but I found some Faith Hill, Paulette Carlson, Forester Sisters (from way back), Suzy Bogguss, and Pam Tillis.  I skipped through some songs while trying to simultaneously not trip over the uneven pavers.

NOTE:  While touted as "one of the most beautiful jogging trails in the world" this one runs along Viale Michelangelo, Viale Galileo - there are some nice offshoots and wooded trails along Via del Monte alle Croci - and Viale Niccolo Macchiavelli dumping you into Porta Romana.  Beauty aside,  it's still a blown ankle waiting to happen if you don't watch where you're going.

Jo Dee Messina brought me down the hill into a park where I stretched, and kept looking around. Huh.  No one here but a woman and her Golden Retriever playing.

Funny, I wasn't really tired; I was high, in fact.  Despite the energy influx I found it hard to move on from this spot.  I couldn't help but pull up a piece of stone bench, stretch out my legs in front of me so they could get a little sun.  Beautiful - just the trees, fountain, the dog, the dog's woman, and one each crazy, sweaty, smiling chick singing along with Jo Dee to this:

"... These are the days you will remember for the rest of your life.  These are the memories you'll pack in a box and you'll pull out sometimes.  So pick your flowers, count the seconds, roll the dice, but baby don't waaaiiit, until it's too late.  Put a smile on your face.  These are the daaaaaaaays."  

These moments that overwhelm me - I'm fortunate to have many of them.  I know my running days are numbered.  I know walking will someday be difficult.  Dammit, I'm not wasting these days.  They are fleeting and I will live them when the present themselves, while I can be out there enjoying them - physically, mentally, and yes, emotionally.


I sat in that park today fully in the present, fully aware that I would never replay that blissful moment;  but ... I could replay these words on the iPod - as many times as I please...

"...so pick your flowers, count the seconds, roll the dice, but baby don't waaaiiit, until it's too late.  Put a smile on your face.  Theeeese are the daaaaaaaays."