I am running 4 miles today.
We went right from winter to summer as we had snow last week, and today will be almost 90 degrees.
My concern about today's run isn't the 90 degrees.
It isn't the piercing sun.
It's the wind.
Where the water allows me an escape from the elements, wind is not my friend.
I love running in rain, fog, snow. I've run in hail and thunderstorms. Most of the time, these runs weren't intentional, but I didn't mind it so much when the storm came in.
The wind is altogether different.
When the wind kicks up, I lean into the wind, arming myself as if I were going into battle. I always imagine myself as a jouster, leaning forward, screaming out, attacking the wind....somehow alsways missing my target as the wind spins and jockies to new directions.
As I watch the news, the meterologists talks about record highs and 50mph winds.
I sip my coffee and look out the window.
I stare at the maple tree. I look at the oak tree.
It's so beautiful how the trees can take a stand against the wind. Their branches hardly move against the solid base. The leaves blow, but the tree remains standing against the wind. Strong yet flexible.
But the tree isn't fighting the wind, like I do. The tree isn't leaning into an attack position. The tree is just standing its ground.
I want to be like the tree, strong base with my hair blowing like leaves on a tree.
I can make my peace with the wind.
I am strong. I am flexible.
I am the oak.
At that moment, a trash can flies through the air, right in front of my window.
I sip my coffee and watch the can crash into the side of the garage.
Maybe I can be the oak tomorrow.
