The beating sun. Sweat dripping down my face and arms. Sand and dust kicking up my legs. This is what I went through for 26.2 miles in the middle of November in Moab, Utah. With the accompaniment of an earworm or two. 

The first seven miles

For this race, I was mindful of my surroundings … after I biffed hard and split my knee open. It was a tough race, an unexpected shift of events that I was unprepared for. I did not have a playlist, ear buds or any other stimulant. Just chocolate and Coca-Cola served at the aid stations were what kept me going. And maybe a few songs that got stuck in my head along the way.

I decided at the starting line that I would not listen to music so I could lock in on the trail ahead of me. From the first step, I was in awe, looking up at the canyon rising above me. There’s something about red rocks and sand dunes that feels unnatural to the Earthly world. I felt as though I was on the moon. Or maybe Mars. 

The first few miles were a breeze. With each step came a little more speed and a little more delirious I became. I was alone in the desert with my thoughts. And these thoughts began singing to me.

The first song that got stuck in my head was “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield. “Release your inhibitions / feel the rain on your skin” was on repeat. Like a broken record, the chorus faded in and out as I climbed over large rocks and other obstacles. It soon became my anthem for the race until the next song attached itself to me.

Don’t be afraid to butt scoot

As I approached the second aid station, we were climbing down the canyon in a system of butt scoots. This is when “Unwritten” turned to “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” by Brooks and Dunn. I can’t even make this up. The song playing in my head began singing out loud, but from the runner behind me, who was also terrified of making a wrong step and tumbling down the mountain. We bonded over this until we had made it down safely.

Being in cowboy country, it was only natural that this popular line dance tune, which is also one of my favorites, made its way into my inner thoughts. It kept me company as the elevation progressed. Though I wish I were a lonesome cowboy, not rucking in the desert, but dancing across the floor in a small-town bar.

Somehow, nearing the end of the race, “Escape (the Pina Colada Song)” by Rupert Holmes found its place in my head. Replacing my cowboy fantasies, there was no reason for this song to make its way in my head, other than marking the point of my delusions. I was eating a Pop-Tart and chugging Liquid IV. Not eating pineapples, nor was I even close to being caught in the rain. It was at this moment that I decided to befriend the runners behind me to get the songs out of my head. They were cool dudes too, one shirtless and the other carrying a large bag with his sunglasses hanging on for dear life.

We ran for two miles together, but they were slow, so I ran ahead. The songs stayed away, though, and for the remainder of the race, I was yet again alone with my thoughts.

I crossed the finish line, having completed the race in six hours. It was hard, but having no music proved to be more challenging. However, I will be doing it all over again; hopefully, without the company of earworms.