Quote of the Day: “Let joy be unconfined.” Lord Byron
I started running again this week. I wasn’t planning to start until January 30th but then I arrived late to the St. George 5K run last Saturday. I hurriedly got to the start line making sure to go over the timing carpet and could see the last of the runners in front of me. I thought that I would just run to catch up to them and then saw Joe coming towards me with my gloves and I suggested he do the course with me, although he hadn’t signed up. I was feeling good so we kept running. Pretty soon, it wasn’t just about catching up to the last runners, but I wanted to finish higher up in the pack. We took some walking breaks on this cold and rainy morning but ran most of it. In the chute coming up to the finish line, a young girl passed me and that got my competitive juices going and so I sprinted just wanting to at least finish before her. It didn’t happen but it felt like I was a runner, again.
Now with the running bug in place, I ran/walked both Tuesday and Wednesday. Sue O. picked me up on Tuesday morning, the streets were covered in snow as we slid down East Oaks Dr. By the time we got to Wasatch Blvd. the roads had been plowed and were clear. We met Cokie and ran north along 20th East. I felt great and only needed sporadic walking breaks. Oh, how I love the early mornings. It’s dark and you run not really paying much attention to incline or decline. There is busy talking among us and an hour passes quickly. This morning Sue O. and I ran and our feet were in sync. You could hear our shoes landing on the pavement in a rhythmic beat, our down strides matching each other perfectly. Sue had talked in my ward on Sunday and told how she and I had logged thousands of miles together but then she mentioned the miles logged while I was receiving chemo. Sue was the impetus behind my 5.1 daily walks while I was undergoing treatment. She had calculated that by the end of my 16 weeks, I would have done, I think, 16 marathon distances. She said that those “chemo” miles were the most meaningful miles of all and I was so touched by that. According to writings from a relative, My great grandfather Charles Robert Reynolds use to say that a great way to learn the character of a person was to spend time with them in the out of doors. There is this bond when you are with someone, outside under moon and stars, air in your face, no make-up, just your authentic self, struggling with exercise that bonds like no other. How I love my running friends and their influence in my life. How I love how running makes me feel.
When I turned on my e-mail this morning, there was a link to my Uncle Newell’s webpage. He is an amazing historian and archivist and has spent thousands of hours painstakingly searching through writings and photos to archive family history. I am so incredibly lucky that he has done this work for me and my family. He just finished compiling a history of my Mother’s Father, Owen Ford Reynolds, and his family. There were so many pictures that I have never seen before. Pictures of the adobe brick house Charles Reynolds built for Louise Park Brockbank as a wedding gift. Her father would not allow the marriage until he knew that his daughter would be well cared for. Anyway, the stories and pictures pierce me deeply. I feel a deep tie to these relatives. I am drawn to the house “on the hill” on Murray Holladay Road where my Grandfather was born, but no longer stands. They took pictures at family outings, their cars lined up to travel to East Canyon for a family reunion, their happy faces dealing with life in an era that I can only imagine. I had a hard time looking at the pictures without crying. I’m not sure why. Even when I was a small child, every time I would watch our family home movies, I would end up crying. What is it about those scenes that brings me to tears? I really don’t know. I just know I feel a strong connection to these ancestors, their trials and their happinesses.
St. George 5K Race, January 21, 2012
Reynolds Adobe Home on 4800 S. 1080 E., circa 1912, Owen Reynolds (my maternal Grandfather, 3rd from left)
Congratulations on your race. It’s hard to believe that it was just a year ago that you were diagnosed. Keep up the good work. –L