During summer, there’s nothing I enjoy doing more than hopping on my bike and riding around my subdivision, the local park, and everywhere in between. I can feel the fresh air flowing around me, a sometimes-heating, sometimes-cooling force that can be both invigorating and dispiriting. I can hear everything from the birds, cars, and people, to the insects, trees, and silence. I see the radiant sun illuminating everything around me, enhancing the very essence of nature to its highest degree, creating a vivid realm composed of any and every color imaginable. Every ride is new, every ride is unique. The joy of exploration and the beauty of nature never fail to entrap me in a sense of curiosity and awe. Last summer was no different. There is a network of trails in the back of the park that caught my interest, so I invited a friend to walk the trails with me and my brother. The friend suggested that we should jog the trails. However, I have never been one for running and was hesitant to give it a try. I agreed nonetheless, excited for a new challenge.
My excitement faded away as soon as I started jogging. The hot weather made my body beg me to stop moving, and the steep inclines and declines on the trail convinced me that I wouldn’t be able to keep going. I quickly realized that I wouldn’t be able to jog the whole way, not even close. The majority of the trek consisted of jogging for a few minutes, then walking, then jogging again. The trail taunted me with its difficulty, mocked me for my lack of ability, and belittled my efforts. The last mile of the trail was paved, so I decided to challenge myself. I had not run a mile since I was required to in the 5th grade. I decided to try jogging the last mile, even when most of my energy was spent. Ultimately, I came up short, but my friend was able to do it.
A few months later, my dad wanted to see the trails, so one afternoon, we decided to walk the trails together. The weather was great, overcast instead of sunny. There was a slight breeze, too, that could be heard through the rustling of trees. That sound, however, began to dampen as it was overlaid with another sound: rain droplets pattering on the leaves. I could not feel this rain yet, because of the array of branches above me, but feared what would happen if the rain persisted. We were already about halfway through the trail, so turning back would do no good. As these thoughts were racing through my head, the sound of the rain intensified, and I soon felt drops of water on my head. My good mood started to deteriorate, and I was afraid this walk would not be the good experience it was planned to be. The intensity of the rain seemed to grow exponentially, getting worse with each passing minute. Soon, my clothes were soaked, my shoes heavy with water, and I was a shivering mess. The path now had to be traversed more carefully, as most of it was now filled with a constant depth of water. I jokingly told my brother that today would be the day I would jog the last mile. Shortly after I said this, however, I began to rethink my statement. I was here, on the trail, about to approach the last mile. Disregarding the condition of the trail and how cold I felt, I still could attempt the task. It wouldn’t hurt me not to try. That afternoon, I was able to successfully jog the last mile.
Sure, we could talk about the conditions that possibly made the jog easier this time around, such as the colder weather and less exhaustion beforehand, but in the end, none of that mattered to me. This experience showed me the rewards that could be gained from knowing and seizing opportunities that come my way, even if they may not be obvious at first. By having the knowledge that opportunities exist, I can enact positive change both in my life and in the lives of others.