I know the cold front is coming on Sunday. The chief meteorologists (the very title of whom, admittedly, makes me swoon a little) have been predicting it for a week now. But this morning I looked at my phone (where else would one get the weather these days, anyway?!) and saw that the winds were from the south.
The south! They haven’t been from that direction in awhile. The temperature though, was 41 or thereabouts, so my attire included my favorite Brooks jacket , only one pair of gloves and the red cap my dad gave me (but without a ear band underneath, which I add for current conditions that involve northerly winds).
I also wore capris, not tights, for the first time in quite awhile — preparing, of course, for the anticipated warm and southerly wind.
By the time I reached the street and had set my trusty Forerunner 10 (which I see now comes in PURPLE!) on the mailbox to pick up the satellite signal, the wind — the SOUTHERLY wind — practically knocked me parallel to the sidewalk.
I have run in wind countless times, so knew I could handle today’s, too. Good heavens, though, these southern babies took me by surprise. I’d turn one direction thinking the wind would be at my back, only to find myself pushing against it.
But that was OK. I finished my run — even went a half-mile farther than my weekly goal — and of course wasn’t sorry in the least that I had done it.
I also realized this: We think we have control over — or at least are ready to face — certain aspects of our run or of our lives. So we prepare in the best way we know how. But then we’re jostled a bit by the unforeseen; we’re sent reeling in ways we didn’t anticipate.
When those winds whip from the other direction, what else can we do but change our course, and persevere, and take something away from the experience.
And for that, The Grateful Runner says thank you.