Saturday, October 5, 2013

Running, medals, and Julie

     When I was thirty years old a group of my neighborhood friends, and I, decided we should get in shape for the upcoming deer hunt.  The first night  we started out and ran to the first telephone pole and then walked to the next one until we had completed a mile.  The process went on for a few weeks and gradually we were running an entire block before having to walk.  By the time deer season arrived some of us could run the entire mile.  The running did help us hike better, but it didn't help our aim at all.
     After deer season I kept up my running, and one day decided to add more distance.  I took off on a course I had driven that was 3 miles.  I got home, barely, feeling like I had run a marathon. I was exhausted, but happy, and committed myself to more running.  I ran regularly, and my knees began to hurt. I spent some money to get  better shoes and that solved my knee problem to this day.        
      After we moved to North Ogden I lengthened my course to 4 miles and eventually 5 and that became my standard for many years.  I ran in all seasons, in all weather. I started entering races and found out that I was one of the middle of the pack runners.  Nevertheless I kept it up. I ran alone.  It was my quiet time.  I collected shirts and certificates of completion, never placing high enough to medal.  I knew I never would and it didn't really matter.  My times got better from year to year. That mattered.  Decades went by and  I kept running. There were times when I was less committed than others but whenever I wanted to get in better shape I picked up my running.
     At some point in time Amy started doing some running and Julie started running cross country. I traveled to Colorado so see her run, and ran with Amy a time or two. They were both faster than me since I was more than thirty years older than both of them.  Amy and Julie ended up living near one another and were able to run together on a regular basis. Over time they convinced Keicha to start running. She did and they planned a race to run together.  They ran it, and had a wonderful time being three running sisters. I was proud to be the father of three running daughters. 
     I was told  sometime that one of the reasons Julie took up running was to connect more with me.  That connection changed with Julie's suicide.  I didn't run for awhile after that. I don't think Amy did either. But then one of Julies friends decided that they should run a race to honor Julie.  In August of 2010, friends and family gathered in Colorado Springs to participate in a Suicide prevention run/walk. We were team 808 for Jules. Our team was the top fundraiser for the event.  After the event, and awards ceremony, where Sheridan was awarded a second place medal in her age group, we started to all go our separate ways.  Some one called to me to go to the awards table. I went and was given the second place medal for my age group.  My first medal at a race,  one run in memory of my daughter.   I had cried and looked heaven ward as I crossed the finish line knowing Julie was there with us that day, keeping our running connection intact.  She had been with Jon and Sam in Bangladesh as they ran a course they had mapped out in their apartment. Something like 287 laps to make 3 miles.
    As time has passed my two running daughters have less enthusiasm for it now. Jon and Sam  have continued their exercise habit. Julies friends have run each year. This year I decided to go to Colorado to be with those who ran and walked in the Suicide Prevention event.   I had stayed in Ogden and Salt Lake City the past two years doing the walk with Keicha and others.
     The race started and I shuffled my way along the course. I thought about why we were all there that day and wished  Julie was not just there in spirit.  As I ran I became aware I was probably the oldest runner on the course and I considered what that could mean about a medal. We all stood around as the medals were awarded and I kept thinking.  Eventually they read off the last category, 65 and over, and announced my name.   I wasn't surprised.  I gathered my medal, this time 1st place. There were no other placers, and I don't think there was a 3rd place finisher the year I was second.
     Those two medals hang on the frame of a collage of Julie. I look at them, and her, everyday.  They are inconsequential but they  remind me of Julie's consequential act, and that I would give the medals and so much more, for a nice run along a quiet trail with her.



1 comment:

  1. I think every person who's life she touched would give anything in the world for one more run with her.

    ReplyDelete