How to run a half-marathon without noticing you're running a half-marathon

The two things you need to run long distances without really noticing are:

1. Music
2. A smidge of ADD

I am serious. Probably most things in the world could be accomplished with those two things. Or at least started with great enthusiasm and then abandoned halfway through.

Is there anyone who is not inspired by music? I dare anyone to don headphones, turn up the volume, and not move.

As far as being ADD, in normal life, I am not. But when I garden or run I am most definitely ADD. I cannot weed one full bed in the garden without abandoning it at some point because I saw a flower that needed replanting in another. It's the same way with running-- I'll be figuring out, say, what our down payment should be, then wonder what our grocery costs are for the month, then think about that documentary on the deception of the label "cage free", then wonder if my grandma liked the cows she owned, then "Hey look, a bird!".

I let my mind wander everywhere. I mull over relationships, fester about someone's Facebook post, think of things I want to discuss with Sky, talk to the horses as I pass their stalls, dream up endeavors like this 40th year challenge, solve the problem of world hunger.

Okay, not the latter one but I'm certain I'm close.  

Note to self: Pick up those knees!

When I'm not preoccupied with all those thoughts, I lose-- and I do mean lose-- myself in my music. I feel it in my very bones. I let it transport me anywhere it wants to take me. Depending on what tunes bust into the shuffle, it may go a little like this:

This Outfield song comes on and I imagine myself-- no, feel myself--playing the drum sections: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEXpwveBeC8

Johnny D. comes on and I am instantly seven years old, camping in the Sierra Nevada with my family, my forearms covered with pine needle dust that is so fine, it darkens even my pores. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=maqNGA6axc8

When the Beasties come on I feel as if I have rockets attached to my feet, and I can't help but do my best karate chop during the Miss Piggy part (as evidenced in the photos, I don't really give a shit what I look like when I run). http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9rnGp6_jHI

Then I get lost in the deep passion of the vocals and cello from Ms. Brandi Carlile: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3QLLhEwjHQ

Often I'll hear a song that reminds me of a friend I have lost, which will remind me of another lost friend, and for a few minutes it will feel as if they are right there, running beside me. And for those minutes, it will feel like everything will always be alright.

I like to call this one "Brrrrrrr".

At some point in every run, there will be at least one song that scoops me up above the trees, transforming me into a weightless kite attached to a divine string. My body tilts forward, and my heart leans into the world, which has become a fluffy orb of deep "Yes!". I am flying, and nothing, especially not shitty self-talk of the imported variety, can bring me down.

When I get to my turnaround point, I turn off my music. I notice how quiet it is, how the sunlight skips off the frozen twigs. I stretch my arms open wide and send out a silent thanks for being such a lucky little schmuck; lucky to have the time to run (dear God, two hours without anyone asking me for a glass of milk!), lucky to have a partner who cheers me on, lucky to have the privilege of feeling my muscles and joints work.

So my advice is this: saturate your iPod with music that wiggles a key into your heart and lets your best self out for a romp, let your mind join in, and put one foot in front of the other.