My Gen X Playlist: Running to Stand Still – U2

I’m not a runner. Sure, when I was younger, I played a lot of basketball, but that is up and down the court and there is plenty of time to catch your breath. So when friends from work wanted to sign up for a half marathon, I thought no way. I was about 25 pounds heavier than I wanted to be and I couldn’t remember the last time I actually ran. They convinced me, selling me on the concept of a fast paced walk and still being able to finish the race. I was inspired by my middle aged co-workers signing up who were out of shape just like me. We were all in the same boat. Reluctantly, I signed up.

I had a few months to train. I started running three to four times a week after work and was making headway. One night while running, I pulled a muscle and limped my way back home. That’s enough running for me. There were two weeks until the race and I resigned myself to keep a fast paced walk on race day. No more running for me.

I remember being in the crowd waiting for the gun to sound. I looked around and saw a lot of normal people like me, not in the greatest shape. These were my peeps and surely a lot of them would walk, too. When the gun sounded, all of them took off running – except me. Feeling a little self-conscious, I ran after them. I devised a game plan. I’d run a mile or two, then walk a bit. Run another mile or two, then walk a bit. Fortunately, this was a rock and roll half marathon and bands were playing every few miles. That helped. I kept thinking, I just need to get to the next band. Also, when running in a pack, it was easy to forget the pain as I fell in line to keep pace. Towards the end of the race, I felt my muscle pull again and slowed down to a walk. When I started this race, my goal was not to be picked up by the truck that drove in runners who couldn’t finish on time. So I couldn’t quit or I’d be riding on the truck of shame. As I neared the end, I heard the crowd towards the finish. The adrenaline made me ignore the pain and I ran the last mile and crossed the finish line. I finished. Oh my God, I wanted to collapse. I wanted to find a way to erase the pain. I wanted to sit in a hot tub drinking cold beers for hours. But I finished. I also noticed something else that I didn’t expect – pride. I was able to complete over thirteen miles and survive. Before this, I had difficulty even running one mile. As I limped to my waiting car, I thought about how memorable this victory was for me. But with each step, my body was waking up to the realization that it wasn’t meant to run that far – ever. I stopped, sat on the ground where I was, rolled on my back and lay there for awhile. I prayed someone would take pity on me, graciously hand me an ice cold beer and carry me to my car. No one answered that prayer, but at least I still could savor that feeling of pride as I slowly made my way back to my car. As I started my car, I reflected on the biggest lesson I learned from this race. Four wheels and an ignition. That’s the only way thirteen miles should ever be traveled. I’ve never forgotten this lesson to this day.

Although there are so many songs about running, my mind kept coming back to U2’s Running to Stand Still. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve always loved this song and it always seems to touch something inside me. Yes, it’s about someone addicted to heroin – which is not me and this song has nothing to do about running a race. But the song title always made me envision running but finding yourself not going anywhere, not moving forward. That’s a theme I can relate to, often in stops and spurts throughout my life. Yes, many times I’ve been able to overcome obstacles, other times not. The essence of finding myself stuck, running in place stays with me.

I saw U2 in concert at Dodger stadium. We had really good seats on the field and were on our feet the entire time. During the concert I remember turning around to look back at the sold out stadium. All of a sudden, it felt like time slowed to a crawl, then almost to a stop. All I saw were flashing lights and it felt like silence surrounded me. Everything went still. Edge’s guitar and Bono’s voice came in loud and clear and snapped me out of my trance. It must have only been a few seconds, but I’ll never forget it. Bright lights. Time stopping. It was an experience I’ll always remember.

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For a complete playlist, please click here.

For the Spotify playlist, please click here.

And so she woke up
Woke up from where she was lyin' still
Said I gotta do something
About where we're going
Step on a steam train
Step out of the driving rain, maybe
Run from the darkness in the night
Singing ah, ah la la la de day
Ah la la la de day
Ah la la la de day

Sweet the sin
Bitter the taste in my mouth
I see seven towers
But I only see one way out
You gotta cry without weeping, talk without speaking
Scream without raising your voice
You know I took the poison from the poison stream
Then I floated out of here, singing
Ah la la la de day
Ah la la la de day
Ah la la la de day

She runs through the streets
With her eyes painted red
Under a black belly of cloud in the rain
In through a doorway
She brings me white golden pearls
Stolen from the sea
She is ragin', she is raging
And the storm blows up in her eyes
She will suffer the needle chill
She's running to stand still