Why I No Longer Run with Music

The world around me appears quiet and still, as Lane 8’s “Brightest Lights” pours through my headphones and into my ears. My muscles ache and plead for me to stop, but I push through the discomfort, focusing rather on keeping my pace that I have set for myself. One foot after the other; the tempo of the song guides me in my own rhythm as I run down a street in Encinitas. The sun grows closer to the horizon, reflecting off of the clouds in hues of peaches and nectarines. I brush my hand near the edge of my eye, guiding the cold sweat off of my face and onto the ground. Although my lungs and legs scream for more oxygen, I continue on, keeping my future goals in mind. This is the fastest I have felt in awhile, proud of the pace I am holding and motivated to move my legs even more quickly. The music envelopes my breath, a melodic duet, until the performance is suddenly interrupted.

A sharp pain in my upper right abdomen begins to pulsate, and I wince at the discomfort. An all-too- familiar “side ache” disrupts my rhythm, and as hard as I try to continue accelerate forward, I am left with no choice but to walk. I pause my watch in frustration, as my pace jumps up to 10:00 minutes. Stretching my arms over my head and deeply inhaling, I replenish my lungs and the rest of my body. This situation is nothing new to me, and I feel confused once again as to why, when everything seemed to be going so well in my mind, my body decided otherwise. After a few minutes of walking, I begin to jog again and am met with the same feeling once again. Taking a hint, I walk the rest of the stretch of road along the beach until I reach home, unfortunately ending my tempo run early.

Confused and disheartened by my “side aches,” I began experimenting in an attempt to avoid a similar situation like so in the future. From refraining from eating closely to training to ensuring a proper warm-up, I still could not avert the pain that would arise almost every time I ran over five miles, until one day, when my headphones died.

I could not imagine running without music. My favorite songs had always aided me in pushing through difficult runs and feeling excited to accomplish new goals. At times, they even helped me to forget about the pain coursing throughout my muscles as I would focus on the lyrics and the beats of the music. With minimal daylight left though, I set out on my long run of the week, no phone nor music to accompany me. To my surprise, not only did I run at a significantly faster pace than I usually held for my steady-paced runs, but I also finished my session cramp-free. Interested and content with the outcome of that evening, I began leaving my headphones at home more and more often. Over time, I learned a few things from doing so. And to preface the following, these are all personal observances I have discovered over months that may not apply to others.

1. I reduced my almost daily side-aches by about ninety percent. After eliminating outside tempos and sounds, I was able to listen to my own breath. I began breathing in a steadier rhythm that I truely believe helped me to avoid abdominal cramping. As each song changed, I was subconsciously switching my own breath to match the new rhythm, and changing paces, whether through breath or movement, had most likely been leading to my past diaphragm spasms. By individualizing the tempo of my breath, my breathing grew deepler and more efficient as well, leaving my history of shallow breathing behind.
2. I grew more in touch with my environmental surroundings. I am guilty for running with my music blasting into my eardrums, drowning out any other possible sound around me. As I slowly let go of my headphones, I began to further enjoy the numerous sounds of nature and grew more in touch with everything around me. I simultaneously increased my own safety as I could now hear approaching cars or people yelling as well. Rather than enjoying a song I already knew, I now listened to new sounds every time I ran out my door, from waves to animals to wind blowing through the trees. I fell in love with quiet mornings, the air still and silent besides the crashing of waves onto the shore and the occasional squawk from a seagull overhead. I began saying “hello” more often to fellow runners, which would almost always put a smile on my face as well as on their’s. I appreciated the sights I would run by to an even further degree, as I no longer had a phone to snap a quick picture. And as a result, because I was no longer stopping to take a picture, my pace remained steadier and faster overall.
3. I felt increasingly prepared for my future races by more closely mimicking a race environment. Many races, due to safety measures and other reasons, actually prohibit the use of headphones. Knowing that I will not be able to utilize my headphones during my race pushes me to continue to forego them during training sessions. Implementing as similar situations as possible whilst training, from snacks to gear, can only help us when race day comes! When I run without my headphones, I visualize myself at the end of a race, pushing towards the finish line. I am able to further my awareness towards the pain in my muscles, which may seem contradictory. Why would I want to be more aware of the pain I am in? Well, when race day and that inevitable fatigue arise, my favorite music to rely on for motivation will be absent. Rather, learning to overcome the unavoidable difficulties during practice only further prepares me for the real deal and increases my confidence in my performance overall. I have learned to motivate myself in my head to push through tough times, thinking of how I will need to respond to similar circumstances on race day.
4. My stress levels after running have further improved after foregoing music. Running has always been a form of stress relief for me, with and without music; however, after running without headphones, I noticed even more of a boosted mood. I tied this to the possibility that I was now able to exercise even more fully in the present moment. Rather than singing along to songs in my head, I now had more room to simply think and sit, rather run, with my own thoughts. Focusing on my breath helped me to further relax. Similar to shower thoughts, I attribute some of my best ideas to my longer runs, when I have ample time to reflect on my day and breathe. I found myself proactively thinking more rather than just listening too. Examining my thoughts for longer periods of time left me with more than just a runner’s high after my run.

Overall, I truly have enjoyed slowly moving away from the use of music while running. I do still love blasting Rufus Du Sol during an easy run, or throwing on The Rich Roll Podcast during a long run now and then for fun. Primarily though, I notice my training and runs to be most beneficial when I forego music. I encourage you to try your next run with your headphones and phone left at home.