Unida and the Running Man

3 years ago it was like I heard the starting gun. MOBB got an iPod. It was so great that I never gave it back.

But the message was clear: You have portable music now. It's time to work out.

I barely gave it any conscious thought. I strapped it on and took off.

Krav Maga soon followed.

And I was good until this last school year. I worked out pretty well until last September.

***

Toland sent me the Small Stone box set (which, off the top of my head, I seem to recall as being titled ...and back to earth again, though I could be wrong, and I don't feel like getting up to check). It's just loaded with the stuff that initially got me off my duff to exercise: Unida, Lowrider, Solace, Atomic Bitchwax, Dozer, The Hidden Hand... greatness. 45 songs of stoner rock glory.

And I'm off and running again, just like that.

***

Just two-mile runs at this point, back at the LD Bell track. It's dark, though on the latter half of the track you're running towards the Grubbs Nissan dealership, and the lights are sort of eerily blinding.

***

Just a lap at a time, sweating, getting into a rhythm, listening to myself, feeling my lungs, trying to see what I've got in me.

And there is nothing, NOTHING like "Wet Pussycat" by Unida to help a guy through his last couple laps.

I will get it back.

Camcorder footage, unfortunately:

Still, it captures one really great song.

If John Garcia does so much as sneeze within 300 miles of here, I want to be there to hear it.

I was inspired tonight. Focused. I didn't kill myself, but that former drive of mine is back. Tunnel vision. Getting better, mile after mile. I will improve. I will make something of myself. I will be worth something. I will.

Good night.

Really.