The wind on my face

It has gotten very warm here lately. Perfect weather for driving down the freeway with the windows down, feeling the wind blowing, feeling that freedom. I love it. It’s one of the small pleasures in life.

I think this is why I have a hard time working out at a gym, there’s no wind. Running on a treadmill is work. Running on the road is freedom. It’s smelling the lilac bushes as you run past. It’s dogs barking at you from their yards and running along the fence with you. It’s jumping over puddles. It’s waving at other runners. It’s the openness to let your mind go where it will. It’s feeling the sun on you, or the rain, or the wind. It’s letting go of everything else you had going on that day. It’s just being. Being part of something bigger than you, part of the world, part of the sky, part of the universe.

That’s what running is for me. It’s knowing I have to keep pushing myself because I’m not home yet. I don’t think I’m necessarily running away from something when I run. Instead I’m running to something. I’m running to peace. I’m running to strength, physical strength, cardio strength, and the inner strength that only comes when you are at peace with yourself and the world. I’m running to letting go. I’m running “home.”

That’s why I run, for the freedom of the wind on my face.