June 10th-Utah 2nd Day Stay

After the fourteen miles or so I put in between running/hiking and walking the day before, I felt tired and wondered why. I figured it was the stress about safety for our youngest flying out, with all the problems with Newark Airport recently. She’d be flying west to meet me in two days. My fatigue was perhaps from driving before taking a day to just be—could factor in as well. Last year at about this time I’d had a day of rest with Nina and her husband just prior to hitting the 700-mile mark in the trip then. This time, I’d driven 2,400 miles or so before taking a day off of driving. So, there was that. Too, the political air weighed on me, even though I knew people were basically safe for now—the anxiety still hung in the balance.

I slowly rose that morning, eventually getting out for an eight-mile run. I didn’t drag as much. Aside from praying that all personal events would go off smoothly, I’d constantly digressed into our country’s shattered schematic. This was a time, a debate my hippie husband and I would have earlier in our marriage before children. It went something like this:

“You shouldn’t allow Nazis to march in our streets.” I’d declared.

“Jody, its freedom of speech.” Norm reacted.

I’d bantered back, “Hatred. Freedom of hatred. Its one of the very things I went into the Marines to counter.”

He’d replied, “They’re expressing themselves. They’re allowed to.”

“I get it. But that’s wrong. We are allowing a rallying cry for hatred against anyone different from them. It’s going to be a problem if we don’t call it out.”

“Still, it’s their first amendment rights.”

“I know. But someday ours will be violated by them. Our lives will be at stake.”

“You’re Catholic. It’s never going to happen.”

“Yes, it will.”

“Jody, we have checks and balances in our government.”

“It’s not going to hold. David Duke, a f’ing criminal they voted for.”

“Jody, he won’t get that far. No one would vote for a guy like that for president.”

 

I’d nod to concede some kind of defeat for peace in our home. When we love someone, many times we concede defeat even when we are adamant in our righteousness. That type of concession always pained me. It was because I’d witnessed the worst in people within my own family and beyond. He hadn’t. We came from different sides of the tracks.

As my morning run ended, I sauntered back to the hotel, walking 300 meters to cool down before getting to the free breakfast area, where I’d grab a few free yogurts, free cream, a cup of coffee, and perhaps a banana if they were in stock there. Yep, those were my morning eats after my run on the drive out west to our eldest daughter’s graduation. I’d have a hot mushroom coffee drink in my hotel room after thirty ounces of water with a chlorophyll supplement before I’d go running. I’d watch the weather station, which usually had a little snippet of a story of bad weather in the past and how people did or did not survive. ‘Wicked stuff’. I’d think—standing there in my running gear, waiting for my body to reject its own hazardous waste.

Later that day, after a shower and breakfast, I put on PBS-Kids for some quiet time away from the anxieties that await me. I ended up napping at about noon for nearly three hours, then called Nina. Nina, my running friend since October 19^th, 1992, living in Michigan explained, “Jody, you’re running at altitude.” I’d replied, “Yeah. I guess. But I’d never really thought about it. Too, I’d never noticed such effects on me.”

Soon, I was outside before dinner checking the oil in my car, it seemed on target, but I’d check again in the morning after I’d gotten gas and ice. I’d be eating Mexican again this night. I was considerably impressed that this town in Utah had so many Mexican restaurants and so far, they hadn’t disappointed.---Jody-Lynn Reicher