In For the Long Hall

Tomorrow marks forty-five years I've been running long distance. I ran when the medical field tried to stop me... they told me what was going to fail.. how I would die... how I would be undesirable to a man... how my knees would fail me by age thirty... my heart would fail me by age twenty-three... how I'd suffer great medical issues... My relatives, with the exception of my Mother told me running long distance would ruin my life... NO, it ruined their opinion... They lost. The medical field misdiagnosed me over thirty times... I had people criticize me even to this day for my running at odd hours, so I could work full time, yet be there for my husband and our daughters, still cook meals, work and clean our home, and care for our children. I gave up the frills of sleeping in, gladly. I gave up coffee clutches, gossip, hair appointments, fancy clothing, etc... In the end I saved us money... four years ago my husband remarked, "I'm so glad you invested in fitness and not make up, hair and nail appointments, You are my 'ivory girl'. If you can remember the old commercial... that is what he meant. I made certain as he was aging, he didn't think I noticed it. I had him race a fifty miler in celebration of his 50th birthday. It was great! Our daughters ages two and four, me with the double baby jogger and station wagon into tow, crewed him to the finish line. Being a long distance runner to me is about hope... inspiring others... gaining ground in gender equality... I have beaten men and women beating all outright in three races. Set a North American Record in my forties Yes, I'm entitled to stake my claim. 170,000 miles and counting ...through abduction/crime, fractures in legs, ribs, spine, arms, face...I've ran... Unrelenting 45 below and 130 degrees Fahrenheit... I didn't die even with birth defects. Yes, I have those. So tomorrow when my Maker grants me His good grace to arise, I'll set out to do so... because I think I can...and because I just never know the beauty I might encounter.---Jody-Lynn Reicher

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2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm. In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October. Our daughters are doing well, Thank God. Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment. Funny enough when

Birth is a Lottery

Yes, this is about Taylor Swift and Love. I’ve had this discussion in depth nearly twenty years ago with a client. We were discussing being grateful for landing where we had in the years we were born. As to now, after that conversation, my attitude still holds. You gotta kind of be happy for other people in some way, no matter where you came from. It’s like good sportsman-like conduct. You lose, you shake hands, hug, whatever. That is how I’ve handled it 99% of the time, win or lose. I remember one time, one moment in my life I didn’t do that. And I still stand by my not doing so that evening after a competition. Otherwise, every other competitor deserved my congrats. My fight coach said that I was unusual (2013) because after losing a fight, I act as though I’ve won. To me, it was that I was just so happy to be able to compete. I’ve lost more than I’ve won. I’ll say that again. I’ve lost more than I’ve won. In softball, when I was aged nine (1971), we lost all our games as the &qu

She's Not Exactly Betty White

She? Yes, she is not exactly Betty White. Nibbles is cute and funny, though. She's one of our two bunnies now nearing 100 years old. She at times appears to need a wheeled walker absolutely, with tennis balls. But instead, I've now spotted her, little rugs covering our living room to dining room floors. Not too many of them, for she would think she was close to a litter box and then there'd be a big mess. Right now, I'm working mostly remotely. This allows for me to check on her four times a day. Too, I've made my office temporarily in our dining room. And thank God for all that. Because I have to make certain her right leg that can no longer function as part of her hopping mechanics to get around, does not get hung up on the side of the litter box. I have to clean her hay excursions, she cannot always control her hay poops, never mind her bladder. That's where my excessive laundry loads have headed. No big deal. I barely use the dryer. I have a drying rack a

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