Several years ago (okay, it was 2006. Who’s story is this?) I settled on the couch in the living room and turned on the TV. We’d upgraded our cable that summer. So rather than 7 channels (2 local, 2 Spanish, 2 religious…you do the math) we suddenly had a 100. Yeehah! Channel surfing, here I come.
As I flipped through the channels, a field of golden sunflowers flashed on the screen. And then this undulating rainbow of spandex clad guys rode by on a pack of bicycles. It was the Tour de France. And I was hooked.
I originally watched for the scenery. But by the end of July I was hooked on the sport. That’s another post entirely. This one is supposed to be about music!
Flash forward a few years. Another year. Another Tour de France…but it wasn’t. This year the producers had procured the rights to use a certain song as their theme song, so to speak. They played at the end of each broadcast.
Now you’ve heard that scent and memory are closely tied. I think that songs, emotions and memories are tightly woven as well. Case in point. This particular song.
Whenever I hear it I’m taken back to those 23 days where ordinary men became extraordinary. Where things you didn’t think were possible (like riding a bike up an Alp – a dozen times!) is suddenly possible and incredible to watch. Days where you watch a field of a 200 of the world’s most elite athletes dwindle down to 150 broken, tired bodies.
There are the underdogs. The superstars. The sprint finishes that literally have you clinging to the edge of your seat lest you fall into the floor. And in the end, after thousands of kilometers (hey, pro cycling is metric, people), endless crashes and enormous heartache, one man is declared the winner.
And they play that song.
Now, whenever I hear King and Queens by 30 Seconds to Mars, my mood lifts and I feel like anything is possible.
Even climbing an Alp…or say, finishing this book.