Quasi-runner playlist

I’m still flirting. Even though I know I should be working on moving this relationship to the next level, en route to the ultimate prize . But let’s see what the object of my affection says… see if he can accommodate me and my dreams. Yes, I’m briefly back in Paradise. Running early morning and early evening. I’ve felt lazy on a couple of days, but have managed to drag my behind out the door, egged on by the thought that I am not allowed any excuses ‘cause I’m only here for a few days.

The music on my ‘pod’s been of great assistance in this endeavor. Granted it’s very unsociable of me to run with a ‘pod in the first place. When I asked the talent to get it for me from places where it’s cheaper than in SA, I was asked why I wanted a ‘pod in the first place, why not just socialize and be approachable at the gym? I like my toys, my gear. You should see my swimming kit. You’d be excused for thinking I belong to some elite swim squad (as I labor to do a mere 50 meters non-stop). What’s cardio without the toys? I ask.  Of course it’ll be a while before the effects become visible… but what did I expect, taking so long to work up a rhythm and requisite dedication?

So yes, I should be running to the sights and sounds of Maputo, but it’s so much nicer to run to:

• Viva la vida – Cold Play
• Stronger – Kanye
• We made it – Busta Rhymes with Linkin Park
• Let’s groove – EW&F
• Bamboleo – Gypsy Kings (that guitar!)
• Rockstar – Nickelback (that guitar!)
• Gotta be somebody – Nickelback (that guitar!)
• Luv – Janet Jackson
• Nobody do it better – Keith Murray
• Circus – Britney
• You can do it – Ice Cube
• 1980 – Estelle
• Potion – Luda (naturally)
• Love’s Holiday – Norman Brown (that guitar!) (naturally, ‘cause it’s my theme song for paradise)
• Got to be real – Cheryl Lynn
• Comfortable – Lil’Wayne ft. Babyface (my current favorite)

A tad eclectic, I know, but it makes for great moments. I love that as I sprint full throttle (for all of one minute) down some streets, or even when I stumble by wheezing for air, the guys who are sweeping the tiny yellow petals and leaves off their section of the sidewalk stop to let me pass. The lack of attitude staggers me. In other places, they’d see you as interrupting their work, so it would serve you right to get dirt and dust pushed in your direction.

On the bus here, a guy deliberately stepped aside to let me on before him. Such gentilesse causes me to sigh deeply. As I sat there, way in the back, typing away on the laptop (unapproachable once again, no doubt), I paused to reflect on how gentle people had been with one another as we got on. None of the pushing and shoving, carrying a thao overloaded bags on board, and dehumanizing experiences (from fellow passengers or bus staff) that would be attendant on some buses at home. And no, I’m not being unduly harsh, I’ve been on enough buses to know that pushing and shoving is so normal, one notices (with anxiety) its absence.

For the skeptics, I’ll just mention that though I see it as paradise, it’s still inhabited by humans. So of course there’s folk who endeavor to leave a bad taste in the mouth. Fortunately, gentilesse will always triumph in the memory, and as long as you put on your African cap and understand what the person you’re interacting with needs – usually humility and affirmation from you – you’re sorted.

My periodic contact with it (Paraiso) is, I hope, tweaking my Kenyan rough and toughness into something gentler, something more approachable, something more generous. Hey, hope springs eternal in this human breast.