
These changes in terrain mirror life. You have some ups, some downs. Hills can be very steep and take a lot of work to labor up. When you get to the top, you breathe more deeply and look forward to an easier lope down the hill. Accomplish a difficult task and you feel rewarded.
Several of these thoughts occurred to me during my run. I had climbed that first tough stretch, headed back down it, then up another quarter mile and was getting into a rhythm. My breathing was steady, my meditative state strong.
During that moment, my mind circled around the thought of how seldom we have those singular moments that stay. They pass quickly or sometimes you get to savor them for longer periods of time. Either way, your current state-of-mind changes like the terrain when you jog.
Your breathing intensifies or lessens. Your legs and feet scream for help or relax as you reach an easier stretch of path. Wind seldom stays constant. It’s either in your face, at your back, or blowing you sideways. You must adjust, as you do to circumstances in life.
Our dad is going through some tough physical and mental issues at age 88. My jog that day put me in a philosophical mood about all the challenges each of us face in our lives. None of us get off easily. We all bear personal crosses. Sometimes the wind is at our back, sometimes it blows in our face at 30 miles per hour and we curse our bad luck. Our dad battles extra wind and hills now and that is part of his journey.
It’s not luck we face when events get tougher; instead, each event is part of a constantly undulating road. It changes constantly for each of us. I think a large part of our human journey is to embrace the bumps, accept the wind pushing us backwards, learn how to deal with it and adapt, then move on. Savor those moments where the wind blasts you from behind AND you are running down hill, because those moments don’t come often. If you’re heading uphill AND into the wind, remember the double negatives won’t last forever.
Hills, rhythm, pace, wind, temperature, they all come into play in how you feel when you run. You understand and appreciate the blessings when things are good and look for guidance and support when the terrain gets rougher.
I remember when I bicycled across North America over 30 years ago and I was heading from Kankakee to Champaign, IL, close to a 90 mile trip. My first 10 days after leaving Milwaukee and heading south, the wind tortured me in my face, forcing a restricted pace and expending my energy. I cursed and learned.
Then, the day I left Kankakee, a crisp northerly supported me. I pedaled like it was nothing, effortless, reaching Champaign in just over four hours, going 22-25 MPH. My normal speed was about 12.5 MPH. I didn’t figure out why I got there so quickly until arriving and walking around, and felt the north wind on my face. “Ah, God was smiling on me today.”
Really, God smiles on us all the time. We just forget that roads will snake up and down, turn into the wind, push us to limits, then back off and give us a breather and time to appreciate what we have. Then it’s back in the saddle.