…It’s me you see with the funk in my walk.

Kelly and I ran the Northeast YMCA Thanksgiving Day Fun Run on Thursday. It’s a 10K (6.2 miles), but they have you guess at the distance at the end, so it’s never exactly 6.2 miles. It was the longest I’ve ever run in my entire life, and I was not being chased by a bear.

You gotta keep movin’ and you can’t say nothing

I’m a keep bouncin’ and bumpin’ and stuffin’

So, what then is the reason for the lyrics to the Beastie Boys’ The Maestro sprinkled about here? That was the song that came over the iPod strapped to my arm exactly halfway through the race. Never let the power of music to compel be a mystery to you. I’ve got this thing, you see, wherein I defeat myself the first half of the run, wondering just what the hell I am doing out there in the cold, nose all running and snotty. I beat myself down and consider stopping many times.

But then the yelling starts. In my brain. I am yelling at myself that I am weak and it is evident I will never finish. I think this is some sort of reverse-psychology play being acted out (or perhaps just directed or produced) by my hypothalamus as a survival instinct. In any case, this rarely works to much satisfaction. So then the only thing can save me is a good song with a beat to which I can pound pavement. Enter The Maestro.

Yeeeeaaaaaaaah you mother fuckers I am all that.

I see you looking at me saying “How can he be so skinny but live so phat?”

You know why?

…cause I’m The Maestro.

For those of you who know the song, that first line in all it’s filthy glory is the call-out in an album filled with awesome call-outs. It’s a rallying cry heard the world round. The Beastie Boys are back and are not to be meddled with. In short: damn. I then proceed to sprint (or at least what constitutes a sprint) the next mile or so, buoyed with that sort of hell yeah spirit so embodied in the song.

The problem, however, is that The Maestro is only three minute long. At this point in the race, I’m at something like 28 minutes in, with another 28 to go. Luckily, the iPod knows this all too well and kicks in another excellent brainpan-shattering song, the all-to-undervalued and under-played Black Sabbath tune Supernaut. All alone on the course, between the masses that seem to form during a race, it’s all too fitting:

Got no religion, dont need no friends

Got all I want and I dont need to pretend

Dont try to reach me, cause I’d tear up your mind

I’ve seen the future and Ive left it behind

Couple that with a certifiably fierce hook and the acoustic bad-assery that occurs near the end of the song and you’ve got metal brilliance. When my ashes are fired into space, this song will be played. (Followed shortly by The Wizard).

In the end, I managed to keep my time under an hour (56 minutes and change) and I felt good. Kelly was proud of me, and I was proud of me as well. All thanks to The Maestro.