I love music. I really do. A good song that speaks to my soul is something I really about. I even listen to music when there isn't any playing, there's a constant soundtrack within my mind that seldom stops playing.
But I don't listen to music while I'm running.
You won't find me with headphones on while I'm out on the run. I just don't do it. I have music in my head while I'm running. Hell, sometimes I'm even singing out loud. But I don't listen to music.
I feel like you miss out on too much of the world around you when you intentionally tune it all out. You miss out on the best music of all, the song of Mother Nature.
You can't hear the birds chirping, or the frogs croaking, or even the angry little Yorkshire Terrier drag the little metal chair that he's chained up to across the wooden slats that make up the back porch of his owners lovely home that's just off the Tee Box on hole 7 on the local golf course. You can't hear the Wood Pecker going to town on an old Pine Tree in search of his first meal of the day, or the soft crunch of a small herd of deer just inside the tree line, afraid of being spotted in the days first rays of sunlight.
You also can't hear other runners approaching. So when I pass you and smile and wave and you come across as a total ass hole, don't worry about it, I'm sure the latest Nickelback album totally rocks.... Douchebag...
And then don't look at me like I'm the dick on the road because I scared you when you finally realized that you weren't, in fact, the only person in the neighborhood that goes running early in the morning.
You also can't hear the soothing sounds of the water lapping against the shore as you run out to farthest extent that you body can take you without going for a swim. That's when you look up and realize that you in a beautiful place that you wouldn't have seen any other way... other than maybe a golf cart, but then you wouldn't have as much appreciation for it, would you?