Today I went on an outdoor distance run– my first in a while– and I actually ran one of my worst times, yet I found the run to be glorious.
I set out on the street in fewer layers than I should’ve and the cold never stopped reminding me. The wind whirled around my body; my bare ankles froze; my fingers turned white–as they usually do– and to top things off my knee pain re-commenced causing apprehension with my every stride as I wondered if I should stop and turn back. My cold body and injured knee said yes, but my mind said no. I’m the first person to argue and say that running is 90% mental 10% physical. So unless I’m in dire pain I usually won’t stop my run. And given the good shape I’m in, I rarely feel a need to. Today was the exception. I will admit, at first I was bothered by the hard time I was having on my run, but as I persisted, I developed an appreciation for struggle. The struggles give us a bottom point to rise from and a chance to learn what can come from hard work and perseverance. After all, can we truly know triumph without trial?