Day 8 - Listening to Janet Jackson May Be Hazardous to Your Ego

Soooooooooo.... I made it to the gym about 5:30 this morning.  I was feeling pretty darn spiffy.  I decided it was Janet Jackson Day.  I had this vibe thing going on. In my head I was grooving.  I was a man with a plan.  After some initial, "Good mornings," it was off to work.  A couple of routines including the Roman chair for sit ups and some free weights and then time for the back machine where you reach up and pull the weights down.  I had Janet's album "Design of the Decade 1986-1996" playing through my headphones.

It was all of her greatest hits. The bass on all the tunes was perfect.  The overall beat was great. I was feeling it.  As I went to pull down the 45th rep of the back machine, "Nasty Boys" was playing.  I was into my, "It's great to be me mode." I almost, and I will repeat, almost, started singing out loud.  Now picture if you will five guys in the immediate or nearby area with forearms and biceps about the size of my body and I am about to start singing the following.  "Nasty, nasty boys, don't mean a thing.  Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh you nasty boys."

Fortunately this little voice went off in my head as my mouth was beginning to pronounce the first, "Nasty," telling me not to do it. I caught it just in time.  Embarrassment avoided.  Ego intact.  I finished up my other exercises and told Julie, a.k.a. Gym Boss, about my almost mishap and she laughed.  I proceeded out the door for my three mile run.  I ran across the parking lot to the Freedom Trail. The song "Control" was playing.  Man oh man that was me.  I was in control.  Mishap avoided.  Legs feeling good.  Temperature was perfect for a run.  Stride was good,  This boy has got it going on.  As I hit the 1.5 mile turnaround point to head back to the gym, the trail was empty.  It was just me. This was "MY DOMAIN."  George Constanza I was not! Not me Jerry!  I'm the master of my domain.

With about a mile left to go, "Rhythm Nation" came on my IPod and I was singing.  What the heck.  I'm on a tree lined trail, by myself.  Sun is rising. It's summer.  "Maestro, one more time," I thought, singing out loud. "People of the World. We all live in a Rhythm Nation." Don't I sound good this morning? It's all about ME!  And in that moment the voice in my head did not sound like the one that prevented me from embarrassing myself in the gym. No, the new voice was that of a runner who somehow appeared beside me and simply asks. "Janet Jackson?" I reply with a simple sheepish, "Ya."  As he begins to pick up his pace and starts to pull away, he mocks me with singing, "We all live in a rhythm nation."  In that moment, I was THE George Constanza. Embarrassment avoided? Nope. Ego intact.? Nope. I was Costanza. I was Elaine and Jerry at their worst. Heck, I was Kramer. How would I get my dignity back?

I still had a mile to go.  Just then the next song came on, "That's the Way Love Goes." Whoa! Stop the presses.  The music in my head was smooth and silky.  My favorite Janet song. The vibe was back. The groove was back. My plan was working. It's good to be me.

I was once again alone on the trail. Just then the voice in my head simply asked and then stated, "Proud of yourself big boy? You really are a running George Constanza today. Those things you're feeling, they're not real.  But hey Steve, like George says, it's not a lie if you believe it." Here's another thought that just came to mind. Be humble. Listen but don't sing to Janet Jackson songs or it may be hazardous to my ego. I have a six miler in the morning. No singing allowed. Just my thoughts and good vibrations.