Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I.
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.
Running, with the wind against my face, in my hair, on all of me. I wonder, if that’s what horses feel when they gallop. Or, what birds feel when they soar.
Running, is a strangely reflective time for me. Beyond the stomach-clenching and gasping-for-breath, I like to see the trees and flowers and people I pass. The feeling of being part of nature is reassuring.
Running, is my private communion time with God. Almost as if we can communicate telepathically.
Running, to be free