He stepped out onto the porch and glanced up at the stars. In the distance he could see the flashing lights of an airplane. To the west a few clouds were hurrying across the cold morning sky. He glanced at his watch and the wind whipped around the corner to meet him.

“What are you doing up so early?” asked the wind.

“I’m going for a run,” he replied as he pushed the button on his watch and set off at a trot.

“Oh no you’re not,” boasted the wind as she gusted harshly in his face, “I’ll send you back to bed before you know it.”

He turned the corner out of his neighborhood and ran into the darkness of the countryside. The stars above became clearer, their light sharper and more distinct. A rusty pick-up truck captured him in his high beams and veered across the yellow centerline to give him part of the road. He waved in gratitude. The wind attacked at an angle.

“You’re not going to make it with me after you,” she whistled in his ears.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he muttered and turned north to put the whistling wind at his back. He felt her push him, her hands squarely on his back.

“That won’t work for long,” she moaned, “I’ll have you at the next turn.”

The next turn came quickly and the wind renewed her assault. She buffeted him with blasts of icy breezes. She pushed and shoved against his relentless advance. She moaned and howled and groaned as he refused to stop. He ran directly into the face of her fury. He ran on glancing at his watch and tugging at the flaps of his hat securely covering, and warming, his ears.

A few yards from his driveway the wind discharged her final fury on him, to no avail. He slowed to a walk as he approached his front porch. “What are you? Some kind of a super hero,” asked the wind”

“No, I’m just a runner,” he replied.

“Ah, a runner,” whispered the wind as she gusted into the gloom of the January dawn, “I’ll see you again.”

“Yes you will,” he replied as he slipped into the darkened house to begin the rest of his day.