When you first think about it, a song about visiting a person who is dying of tuberculosis doesn’t sound like the kind of thing that would make a good running song. “Eye of the Tiger,” that is what you think of. Or maybe something more recent like “Pump It” by the Black Eyed Peas — although that one samples heavily from Dick Dale, so you might credit him too. But “T.B. Sheets” just doesn’t seem like the right thing to get you moving down the street or trail somehow. Still it works.
Here is the thing, a great song for running has to have passion. Prince’s version of “Nothing compares 2 U” has passion. Great song to run to. Dig deep, Shorty, dig deep. Meatloaf (the singer, not the food) is not, to the best of my knowledge, knocking down 8 minute mile splits, but I defy you to let “I would do anything for love (but I won’t do that)” come on the iPod during a run on an easy day. These are songs sung with conviction, whether or not the artist truly feels it, they make you feel it. And your quads. Your quads will definitely feel it.
So “T.B. Sheets” then. It does have a strong rhythm, as strong as anything from “Elvis, Live at Madison Square Garden.” From the opening organ riff and the very first harmonica wail, you know he’s in it with everything he’s got. That’s the way a run should be too. The putrid smell of my own laziness is as sickening as the stench of a decaying man’s death bed. “I gotta go, gotta go, gotta go.” You’re goddamn right about that, Van.