In the dried out bed of Minnehaha Creek, not far from Lake Harriet, I came across an unusual sight during a midday run Thursday: a large, fluffy gray and white cat sprawled out in the dirt.
A man with a dog was stopped on the trail looking at the cat, and I blurted out to him "what is that cat doing there?" (As though he was an expert on cat behavior). While he attempted to get his dog under control, he replied earnestly: "It looks like it's just hanging out and enjoying life – at least until the rain comes."
It was, at that moment, unseasonably warm for a mid-November day. But my weather app suggested that was all going to change in about an hour. I kept running, reaching the lake with the intent of completing a lap even as the wind picked up immediately.
Even before I started running, I had been ruminating on the Vikings and Timberwolves, my mind picking up little threads along the way.
Somehow this cat had tied everything together.
It was a reminder of the joy of the moment and the perilous nature of a plan, a contrast we see with two teams headed in completely opposite directions – at least for now.
Barely a month ago the Vikings were the Wolves and the Wolves were the Vikings.
It might be hard to remember now, as the Vikings sit at 7-1 heading into Sunday's showdown at Buffalo, but this was a season of mild expectations — something Ben Goessling and I talked about on Friday's Daily Delivery podcast.
Maybe new coach Kevin O'Connell could coax a winning record and low playoff seed out of his team in the watered down NFC, but surely that was the ceiling while running it back with largely the same roster and staring at Green Bay (three straight 13-win seasons, two-time defending MVP Aaron Rodgers back) in the division.
The giddiness of thumping the Packers in the opener had given way to an equal and opposite result against Philadelphia, and in Week 3 the Vikings trailed 24-14 at home to the Lions in the fourth quarter. ESPN's probability metric gave Minnesota an 11% chance of winning the game after a Vikings punt.
But they rallied, with the help of Lions Things ™ and the sort of late-game execution that is now very familiar. They still just have that one loss to Philly, and coupled with Green Bay's stunning five-game losing streak the Vikings have become one of the NFL's most intriguing stories and regained their place of dominance in this market.
It's hard to remember that this wasn't the story all along.
Around the same time the Vikings were gaining steam, the Timberwolves were preparing for what many thought would be a wildly successful season – the beginning of an arc that could, in fans' most optimistic dreams, culminate someday with a championship.
They had added defensive stalwart Rudy Gobert to a team that jumped from 23 wins to 46 wins last season. They were surrounding him with a star scorer in his prime (Karl-Anthony Towns), a motivated point guard in a contract season (D'Angelo Russell) and two ascending players whose ceilings seemed without limit (Anthony Edwards and Jaden McDaniels). The bench was remade.
The consensus was that things might look a bit disjointed as all these talented players learned to mesh, but that their individual talent would carry them to a flurry of wins early on as the connective tissue formed.
And now? The Wolves are 5-7, having lost five of their last six games, many times in ugly fashion. The hallmark of games at Target Center has become loud boos from annoyed fans, and the most pessimistic among us are wondering if this is the beginning of an arc that could set the franchise back for years.
I thought about all these things as I continued my run, which was notable for two reasons: A route that used to be very familiar years ago when I lived near Lake Harriet now constituted a deliberately unfamiliar path. And I had left my phone in my car on purpose, eschewing the temptation to listen to a podcast or check messages along the way.
Sometimes you need a change of scenery, to engage your senses in a different way.
Halfway around the lake, the rain arrived early. At first, I cursed the slight misfire of the forecast and chided myself for not starting the run earlier. But then I just let myself feel what was happening. The rain steadily got harder, but sometimes there was a reprieve. The wind whipped in the open parts of the lake, but it was tamed as the path moved toward trees.
My thoughts and concerns weren't going to change anything about my environment. There was nothing I could do about that moment in time except to experience it, to understand any unpleasantness was temporary and to appreciate it for what it was.
My plan had been to run during the best part of the day, but instead I had run during part of the best and part of the worst.
Even as we search for control, everything is subject to change. In another six weeks, we might be talking about the red-hot Timberwolves and the slumping Vikings.
The only thing we know for sure is that we don't know for sure.
I was soaking wet and cold by the time I made it back to my car. A minute later, I also realized I was starving. I rummaged through the car and found two packaged organic protein bars long forgotten. The "best by" date on them said July 8, 2022.
I probably should have eaten them before the Gobert trade, but I was hungry. I gobbled them down and I'm still here today.
I started the car and drove back near the path where I had been running previously. I didn't see the fluffy gray and white cat in the creek bed, and I can only imagine that it had moved out of the rain a lot faster than I had.
Wet but drying, cold but getting warmer, still thinking about the Vikings and Timberwolves, I made my way home with thoughts crystallizing into one conclusion.
Leave yourself open to what's happening instead of what you think is going to happen, and enjoy what's good while it lasts.