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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Completion of Humanness

Completion of Humanness As we arrive to the completion of the first year without Norman, I had decided long before he'd passed that I would continue to do things certain things he liked yet could no longer do. I decided I would not take a day off of fitness. I would run at least for 500 days in a row. I began that in early 2020. I'd not be concerned with the distance I'd run. It was the very thing I convinced Norman and the thing that mattered to him, from the very first discussion we had August 11th, 1981, was fitness. I loved that he was a College Boy. He loved that I was a Marine. We tickled each other's soul with such admirations. Later fitness continued as an old discussion from 1994 ...getting outside and to run no matter what. I would say to him, "Run 200 meters, then 400 meters. If it doesn't feel good, stop. Turn around and walk back home and know you did your best. That is all you can ask of yourself." I said this, knowing he would get dow

Reicher's 2021 Holiday Letter

11/23/2021... The Reicher Holiday Letter... Yes, finally I'm on time...LOL. As the late November wind whips and the delayed leaves fall to the ground in our neighborhood, I await the first sign of snow. I stand outside, begin a run, do outside chores, bring in the mail and sniff the air for the smell of snow. Yes, humans can smell snow. Just like a spring rain approaching. It is awaiting to provide a cleansing of the dreams that need to be refreshed or re-routed. It’s all how you look at it. Really. Oh, the word ‘really’. Per a few grammar writing geeks. A good writer is not supposed to use the word, ‘really’. I’ll say it again. Really? There is another word I discovered this year, not supposed to be used in writing by writers. I cannot at this moment remember what word that may be. But I’m sure, it’ll arrive in my mind as I write this Holiday letter to you all. A reading audience. Where to begin this 2021 Reicher Holiday Letter? I’ll start with our smallest resident. T

In My World

As I finish putting away the week's groceries, I contemplate other's lives. Aside from my two daughters, I consider what may be other's lives. How they have conducted their lives over the past two years. This is a thought not unusual for me to have. Yet, it occurs more often than not. Especially now, as the population is probably feeling ever more irked. Regarding perhaps. their illusion of any lack of their freedom. But isn't that what life is about? The illusion of who we are. What we are about. Where we stand on the planet. Who we love. And who loves us. Our significance. Couldn't we imagine if this were all just an illusion? Sounds like a "Twighlight Zone" episode, perhaps. My aim here, are the thoughts of reckoning. I'll explain why I'm claiming such a thing. For about twenty-eight years of a career in dealing with injured athletes, pain patients, chronically ill and the terminally ill. I found that there were many people who lied to

Writing Reality

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