This week I awoke to incredible feelings of fatigue on Wednesday and Thursday mornings. Actually, I can’t honestly use the term “awoke.” I hit the alarm’s snooze button and slept in until the last possible moment before needing to drag out of bed and get ready for work. I chalk it up to continued tiredness following last Saturday’s half marathon, new allergy meds, and ahem, perhaps the beginning stages of menopause.
On Thursday, as I slowly trudged through my “getting ready” routine I had an epiphany. “Workouts don’t have to occur at the beginning of the day. They can take place any time.” Duh. So I packed a bag of workout clothes and planned to run three miles after leaving the office.
I like to train in the mornings because to me it symbolizes putting my health ahead of everything else that’s on my plate. So keep in mind I NEVER work out at the end of the day. On Thursday evening…the second…I mean the very second I stepped on the greenway to begin my run, I saw a friend of mine finishing hers. She bent over and grabbed her knees. She’s a very fast runner so I assumed she had really kicked things in gear on her final mile.
She was having an asthma attack. She needed help getting her emergency inhaler out of the trunk of her car. I stayed with her for about 10 or 15 minutes until she felt comfortable driving home. Before leaving, she told me she was so glad we ran into each other because she wasn’t sure how she was going to reach the car trunk on her own.
As I drove to the greenway Thursday afternoon, I was dreading the run. I was still feeling sluggish and wishing more than anything I had my workout behind me. But I believe there are no coincidences in God’s world. I firmly believe I was put in the right place at the right time so that I could be of service.