Baby, You’re Makin’ It

Well, I walked/jogged 6 miles yesterday. I didn’t really intend to, but Caelyn fell asleep about two minutes before I got back to our apartment, so I kept going.

This gave me plenty chance to try out different types of workout music. I started with a mix of bright, poppy tracks from artists like Belle & Sebastian, Stereolab, Olivia Tremor Control, Beulah, Animal Collective, Apples in Stereo, Caribou, Of Montreal, Vampire Weekend, etc. (Okay, I cheated once and listened to the Beastie Boys. Tell me you like the Beasties, Allie.)

Then I gave a few minutes to, wait for it, Christian hip-hop. I figured this was a decent way to test the effectiveness of hip-hop’s beat and answer some complaints about hip-hop’s “negative” content. After all, “Words come easy but don’t mean much, when the words they’re sayin’ we can’t put trust in.”

Finally, I decided to give Tom Cruise’s wife some credit and put “Stronger” on repeat.

Say what you will about Dawson’s Creek and her crazy husband. The facts remain: Katie’s in my age bracket with a kid close to the age of mine and she’s not lookin’ too shabby.

Now, this test isn’t exactly fair, because I didn’t give equal time to each kind of music. I was only walking at an “exercise” pace for about an hour, fifteen. (I strolled around for a while after the 6 mile mark because Caelyn wasn’t awake yet.) I should also mention that the wind was pretty serious yesterday and I had to stop a few times for C.

But, outside factors aside, here’s what I gathered:

A. Mix 1 was enjoyable. I know those artists well enough to have fun with the songs and to let ‘em play in the background while my mind wanders. The beats are catchy enough that my body syncs up with them naturally. Plus, there’s something about Animal Collective that takes you over even when you’re sitting still.

But.

I got to the end of it and hadn’t walked as far as I normally do when there’s a decent chunk of hip-hop mixed in. It wasn’t a huge discrepancy, maybe half a mile or so, but that had me walking a little over 13 minutes a mile, which isn’t “bad,” but you get best results, I think, from a 10 to 12 minute mile. (Pace is important in walking because it takes more effort to get your heart-rate up.) Walking at 10 is pretty fast. Maybe you could go faster than 10, but I’d have to run.

B. The switch to Christian hip-hop gave me an increase in speed. But the only Christian rap I have that I can stand (Sorry, John Reu, that ain’t you) is almost too nostalgic. Well, “Nostalgic” isn’t quite the right word, but whatever, it’s a little distracting.

C. For those last three miles to “Stronger,” I had to have been doing close to 10 minutes a mile. (The maintenance guy even told me he was tired just from watching me “run.”) The beat encourages hip shaking. And I wasn’t angry or more exhausted.

Today, I only did 3 miles. I decided to do just few songs on repeat. I started with “Ping Pong” by Stereolab because Lex got it stuck in my head. (”In the Meantime” has been too since Mixtape Number Four dropped. I almost made a 95-ish mix, but decided to save that for later.) Then I let Animal Collective do their thing with “Fireworks,” and wrapped it up with “Stronger” again.

The result: 10 minute miles, no bad feelings.

So there’s no denying hip-hop’s effectiveness. But the real question is, did all that Kanye dirty up my thoughts or feelings?

I don’t think so.

I guess I can’t comment on the long-term effects, but I can say that I didn’t think anything out of the ordinary yesterday or this morning.

What DID I think about?

A. How much my sister loves to powerwalk. Then I jumped back to sometime before college when she, who exercised, informed me, who didn’t exercise, “Yeah, well, you might always be skinnier than me, but I’ll live longer than you, even though I’m older, because your arteries will kill you.”

I’m sure my response was something like, “Maybe, but you’ll never be able to say that you ate a whole pizza.”

Before JSmo jumps on it, let me assure you that was only one time and it was for a contest. I’m not denying doing some serious eating in my super-skinny years, but I’ve only ever consumed an entire pizza once.

Also, my sister’s smokin’.

B. That remark made me think about how I dated this guy in college who told me I could count on getting cellulite eventually. All women do. The guy I dated after him, on the other hand, told me that he liked the fact that I had a flat stomach and he could count on me never gaining 30 pounds in one summer. It’s a good thing we didn’t get married and have children.

For lots of reasons.

C. Pizza made me think about how often I hear wives say things like, “I let him get pizza because it’s his birthday” or “I let him get wings for the Superbowl” or “I let him grill steaks because he got a promotion.”

I’m not naming any names, but I know individuals who’ve been known to down entire boxes of Ding-Dongs for fear that their wives would discover they’d purchased said delicacy. I also know certain individuals who somehow managed to be at a Point Team with me and no one else and ate at least 6 Snickerdoodles a piece and then filled their pockets, knowing that their wives wouldn’t let them have cookies again for a long time.

This is a foreign concept to me. For one thing, like I let Chris eat anything. For another, I don’t need a special occasion to think pizza, wings, and steaks are BRILLIANT ideas.

Chris has said that he’d be fat if we weren’t married because he’d only eat fast food, cookies, and Pizza Rolls. I have no trouble believing this, and I do make sure our family eats healthy meals, but Chris also knows that all he’d have to do is say, “Man, I wish you’d buy Pizza Rolls,” and he’d have ‘em.

Pizza Rolls. That’s another one. Wives are notoriously grossed out by Pizza Rolls. It’s bite-sized pizza! How could this be wrong?

D. A few pondering minutes went to, “What kind of wind could knock down a brick wall and rip a steeple off a church?!” (I witnessed the ruins of such wind) and, “I still have so many different types of mixes to try!” (I’m planning on trying each of your suggestions. Don’t worry. We have plenty of time.)

But I thought the most about why hip-hop doesn’t mess with my head the way it does with some others.

Don’t get too excited. I haven’t figured anything out yet, except that people are just different, and I’m cool with that. But I did have a few thoughts shuffle through my mind.

This baby’s gettin’ long, though, so I’ll cut you some slack and stick ‘em in the next post.