My knees feel as if they are about to buckle every time my feet pound on the hard cement road. My body is glazed in a light coat of sweat that is gently tapped by the cool wind every now and again, giving me a sweet and sudden chill. The air is thin, but shrill making it uncomfortable if I were to stand still, but in jog it complements the heat of my body nicely.

I am alone on this road, yet I have the company of many of mother earths living organisms, surrounded by an ocean of lush green grass that wave as the wind tumbles over the hills. Within them, lie thousands of creatures so small that I could hold a hundred in my hand with room to spare, however they are not among the best if you are wishing to converse intelligently, but that is fine with me.

Solitude is the preferred method in this travel. Why? Because this road I must travel alone. For this road is long, narrow, and the one I chose for myself. I do not wish anyone to have to travel such a long distance out of there way with me. It would be a waste for them to do so and nothing but crutch to a non – injured leg.

Though my body is becoming weak I press on. As I do, clouds begin to drift into formation. They are fast and they are dark. They, no doubt, will bring a large storm to this very region. I only hesitate for a moment before I continue, for I cannot hope to outrun these clouds that are looming, nor will standing still prevent my fait of getting caught in the rains and winds of the world. So what more is there to do? There is but one option. But it is a mistake to say that I am going to simply jag to the storm. No, my legs quicken and my pace begins to quicken. My lungs begin to protest and my muscles begin to burn, but my mind ignores their request to quit. The physical being can only account for a short future, where as the mind has the power to see far into time and space.

My eyes begin to make out the rains sweeping toward me, and my ears quickly pick up the tone of thousands of droplets slamming harshly against the earth. I detect that they are most likely cold, icy and unforgiving. The wind has begun to pick up; it has now became an annoyance rather than a gentle fan.

I near the region of rain, and brace. I stride into another world. The droplets instantly cling to my body. I am covered before I can even feel the first icy chill from the freezing water. My spin squirms and my body tenses from the cold rain, yet the water does not extinguish the flames in my muscles, still I press on.

The wind throws more spikes at my face stinging my cheeks brow, and my neck. The water begins to find its way into all the opening in my body. My mouth, my ears and my eyes. So I accelerate.

My legs utterly reject the notion but with much persuasion I am able to keep them going. It is then when one of feet finds its way down into a hole, yet the rest of me continues going, causing me to loose balance. My other leg can not adjust and I begin to tumble over. I throw out my hands in a desperate attempt to save myself from the appending doom but they only do part of the job in bailing out my mistake. I slide across the road scraping my palms, knees and elbows.

I find myself laid out and facing the desolate road, my body marked by its roughness and unsympathic nature. It is here that any human would consider defeat, and to weigh the option of laying there until the night falls and someone else comes to cart them off in wheel chair. To simply accept the fact that they are not good enough for the task they have been handed.

It is here where inner strength is found, it is here I choose to push myself off of the ground. To put my feet back under me, it is here I decide I will keep going, and so I do. My limbs begin to pump and my body starts to move. Now even the winds and rain seem to be protesting my journey for they have seemed to intensify themselves. No matter, I keep going, and soon I see where it all ends, the clouds, the rains and winds. I see the sun, and its entire amazing blaze. I rejoice and it is not long before I am out of the storm. Now nearing the end of the road I slow to jog once again and carry on through the normality of life, having now come out stronger and of a higher character than before the storm hit. All this, because I know that the best way out of the storm, is through it.