Tale of a Run

Most people who know me know that I hate to run. Even when I was in elementary school and in fabulous shape, I still couldn't run! I hear what a run does for my runner friends, and I'm a little jealous.

Yesterday, right after the rainstorm, I went for a WALK. I figured I might even jog a block or two. I took off on a road that is slightly uphill. I hadn't gone too far before the wind started blowing quite fiercely. Straight on, right into my chest.

And I've never felt more like running.

Of course, I've never been chased by a bad guy, and I'm not saying it would trump that. But I wanted to run. Like the wind was some kind of invisible foe that I just had to beat. The harder it blew, the harder I ran, determined to get the best of it; to not let it win.

It did NOT win!

Then I turned right and went up a few blocks, and then turned right again. This time the wind was blowing me on my back. Compelling me to run. Pushing me, helping me, making me feel like I could fly. So I ran and I ran and I ran some more. Probably more than I have ever run before in a day. And, I started to understand just a tiny bit what all of you who are my runner friends are talking about. (And no, I'm not going to say how much I ran, because all of you who run would just roll your eyes. Trust me. Like I said, I suck at running.)

But, it got me thinking. Isn't that just how opposition is? It's there to help you. To push you. And when it feels like it is holding you back, it's really just trying to give you a chance at getting stronger in the process.