He’s on the course again today.  Floppy hat, little dog, and the song. Always the song.

I have no idea what it is. Seems like some sort of Buddhist chant. He sings it at the top of his lungs as he and the little chihuahua in the jaunty sweater make their rounds.  I google Buddhist Daily Chanting to get an idea of what the song prayers are like.

Arahung summa sumbuddho pakava

I am running to a playlist of songs with 182 beats per minute. I find myself here because I was trying to listen to the impeachment hearings before deciding that maybe I don’t want to kill myself today and therefore should stop. I don’t particularly like the 182 bpm songs. They are loud and bossy and not at all Buddhist. But one must never question the religion that is Jack Daniels.

I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know
I don’t wanna know

The man and his dog walk here almost every day. Their rounds must coincide with mine. He seems so relaxed, so at peace, so disconnected from the craziness.

Buddhang Pakawuntung abhivatemi
Savakkatho Pakavata tummo

A turtle eyes me on the back turn. I give him the Stink Eye. Finally someone I can beat. He yawns, dives into the water and takes off. Try running with this weight on your back, he says. I’m no hare. An old couple on three-wheel recumbents pass me. The Fast Woman sails by on her daily out-and-back. The 182 parade marches onward.

Freida, can’t you spare me a dime?
I got to give myself one more chance
To ring the band that I know I’m in

I pass the man and his dog  again. They are walking along the edge of the pond. He sings, unaware of the attention. There is peace.

Tummung na-mussami
Supatipanno pakavato savaka sung ko

I’m running too hard, but I read recently that you have a better chance to beat dementia by going super-aerobic. What better reason for intervals? So I persevere. The run is stressful. There is no peace.

I feel sorry for the earth’s population
‘Cause so few live in the U.S.A.
At least the foreigners can copy our morality
They can visit but they cannot stay

I finish off my futile Gumbo 5K. As I climb into the car, NPR is broadcasting the impeachment hearing. I can hear him in the distance, still singing.

Sunkung namami
Namo tassa bhagavto arahato samma sambhudssa

I’m doing this running thing all wrong.

Translation:
The Perfectly Self enlightened one and blessed one, who has extinguished all suffering.
I bow down before the Awakened, Blessed One
The Dhamma is well-expounded by the Blessed One
I pay homage to the Dhamma
The Sangka of disciples who have practiced well
I bow low before the Sangha
Honor to Him, the Blessed One, the Worthy One, the fully Enlightened