Ever since I could remember I've disliked the wind blowing on me, and that dislike escalates to near rage while I'm running. In fact the wind is basically the only excuse I use to head inside, opting to use a treadmill; even then the strong fans in the gym can irk me and I switch them off. 💨👎🐇
Fully aware of how ridiculous this aversion is, I went down the cautionary rabbit hole underneath 'The Why.' I found that the constant sensation of fighting to move forward, being held back and pushed around, while my hair flies about my face and into my mouth does my f*^$ing head in. On certain days when it feels like it slows my already tortoise-like pace to a mere crawl, it's enough to inspire a full-on pity party and the only propellants that power me through are blind rage and pure stubbornness. It's bad enough that I actually fear sounds of wind on mornings when I do my long marathon training runs, a knot tightens in my stomach; dread. I head out anyway of course, but I typically need to mentally prepare myself for 'the blow.' (Pun!) 😅
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| Despite hating the wind I've lived in the notoriously windy state of Kansas, New Zealand's gusty Palmerston North, and endured the hurricane-force gales of South Taranaki where the term 'breezy' basically means 'will turn an umbrella inside out, but won't strip someone of their clothing.' Makes me wonder if I haven't fatefully chosen windy environments to challenge myself... Yeah, that sounds like a bit of me... 😂😇🐇 |
Anyway, in one instance an easy 8km recovery run resulted in a self-discovery epiphany I could have never anticipated. When I left the gym the wind was eerily calm. Knowing that Hawera can get windy astonishingly fast, and with my planned route in mind, I wanted to ensure that the two longer legs would be with and not against the wind should it kick up. I did the 'intelligent' thing and looked up the direction of the wind on my phone, 6 kmph NNE, barely a whisper. After a quick assessment in my head I decided which way to start my loop and set out.
Guess what? My intelligent assessment turned out to be completely f*&$ing backwards; NNE doesn't mean it's blowing TO the north, it means it's blowing FROM the north. Ironically, I would've realised this if I had bothered to step outside and actually feel which way the wind was heading instead of making my super smart decision whilst sitting in my car. When I turned to head north along my longest stretch, there it was... feeling more like a roar than a whisper; my foretold aggravation gaining momentum. This time I paused my reaction however and thought, 'Well, I'm not going to stop so I might as ruminate on the bright side of the situation.' Ever the optimist that I am... 🌞🙄
Here's the synopsis:
- My 'duh!' moment made me laugh; I frequently over-analyse situations only to find I've landed on the wrong conclusion. For a smart person, I often do phenomenally stupid shit.
- The direction I took may have put me face-first into the wind, but it also kept the sun out of my eyes so I could see the path in front of me without burning my retinas.
- The face-on wind helped keep me cool on a very warm day.
- I envisioned the wind and I clashing together and combining to form a tornado as we moved in opposite directions. Creating something powerful with the energy I put into moving forward raised my spirits. 💪
- Though it felt strong, the wind was hardly blowing at all. This lead to a humbling esoteric acknowledgement that I tend to 'blow' things out of proportion (Boom! I'm on a roll!). I hate being hindered in my efforts in general, though slowing down typically prevents me from making a fool of myself in the 'long run' (Oh the puns just keep a-coming).
- Despite the weather conditions, length of the run, or how skeptical I feel about my body's ability to finish, I remember that so long as I take one step at a time I'll reach my goal. I'm grateful that I have the inner determination and drive to keep going. Sometimes it comes from self-empowerment and other times rage directed at an invisible nemesis I can't control, either way I keep moving forward, inspiring pride and reaffirming motivation.
- I spent so much time in my head creating this inane essay that before I knew it I had run the length of the road, turning in a different direction and out of the wind. I even missed it a bit... 👋
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| Oh, I do love puns! |
But wait, thanks to marathon training, there's more! As I faced a fairly gnarly headwind during a 32km run on a different morning, a couple more points came to me:
All that just to come to this point: By traversing the rabbit hole I found that the wind was a physical manifestation of my own emotional issues. My reaction to the wind largely depends on my inner emotional state; some days I resign myself to it and submit, other days I fight it. I fight like hell to control the uncontrollable. I may run with it in beautiful harmony one day, but it'll break me the next. Though this is a true account of what I experienced running against the wind, upon reflection I see how the wind also functions as a significant metaphor in an emotional sense. As humans we often feel like we're pushing shit uphill, running against the wind; the struggle is real. We all have triggers that push our buttons, and we may or may not understand 'The Whys.' A simple situation, a whisper of wind in the form of an utterance, can cause a torrent of emotions to erupt.
- I heard the wind as soon as I awoke and the idea of attempting my longest training run, EVER, did not excite me in the least. I began to worry about my ability to complete the run, but I was determined to set a new personal record and knew I had to give it a go anyway wind or no wind. This served to reinforce my sense of resilience and helped me to realise that fear necessitates bravery, and in a similar way, mistakes necessitate adventure. What would be the fun in an easy life without challenges? 🌊💩😅
- The wind reminds me to slow down and keep a sustainable pace. Instead of seeing it as impeding me, I shift my perspective and see how its serving me in its own annoying way.
- Take each gust as it comes; staying pissed at a gust that held me back or worrying about future gusts that may never come is pointless, I can't control it and does no good to fight it (though this is MUCH easier said than done!).
- Despite the wind, despite ANY obstacle, thanks to goal-setting, effective planning, and brute-force resolution, I smashed it and achieved my personal best for distance (until I later completed the marathon). 😎🏆🏃
It seems so silly that I would be so easily enraged by an act of nature that I can't control, but that's also precisely why it bugs the hell out of me. The wind pushes me around and slows me down, it controls me. Historically I've fought against being controlled with every fibre of my being, opting to vehemently fight for control instead of surrendering and reserving my energy for a worthier ambition. It took me years of self-development work to discover that my obsession with control was a coping mechanism for feeling insecure. Deep shit, wounds from previous forms that hadn't fully healed. So some days my emotions are stable, the wounds have scabbed over and are partially concealed... I can cope. Other days those scabs have been ripped off for any number of reasons, they're raw, exposed and delicate; turning a wisp into a gale that knocks me for a six, turning me into a Grade-A Asshole.
These observations and reflections allow me to prove to myself that I can CHANGE my old habit of resisting control and fighting the wind. However foreign it may feel, I can consciously choose to challenge myself, to find gratitude in a situation where I would typically feel angry or victimised by a lack of control. Life is full of such opportunities. It takes courage, but we can all run into the wind.
Original Publication Date 13 January 2021, 30 October 2023