I finally went for a run in the woods near my house. It has been about 2 months since I went on a “real” run, and even longer since I went for a “proper” trail run in these woods that I consider my church. It was cold and sunny, perfect for a run. It’s the beginning of a new year, time to be motivated to get healthy, etc etc. On my run, I was struck by a faint familiarity of a “feeling” of today’s run – the warmth of the sun on my skin despite the chill in the air, the uncomfortable and somewhat bittersweet reflection on ending a year and dissatisfaction of unachieved goals and the like, mixed with the thrill of feeling the body moving, remembering the sounds of my feet hitting the trail, the smells of backyard fires nearby, and excitement to get back in my routine. 

I realized why today’s nostalgia felt a bit “off.” Lynn passed away on December 3, 2014. I had regularly run in my woods for years when she passed. After she passed, it took many weeks before I could walk more than a couple miles without having to turn around. In late January / early February of 2015, I began training for a challenging, hilly half marathon that I had done several times by that point. During many of those training runs, I would run while teary eyed. I had the sadness of not texting her during key points on the trail to let her know I was ok, that I had not run across a mountain lion or other dangerous being, and that I had made it down a tricky downhill. I was also sad realizing this was the first time I would be doing a half marathon without her presence, her encouragement, or her (physical) support. 

Today, the air and “getting back on the trail after a long time apart” subconsciously brought me back to that feeling exactly 11 years ago. It came with a mood of uncertainly of the future, but also knowing that whenever I am running on the trail, I am EXACTLY where I am supposed to be. Back then AND these days, I often have skepticism if I am “exactly where I am supposed to be.” I am having a hard time looking too far into the future with any clarity. BUT, I don’t have the anxiety or fear that I had 11 years ago. Maybe it is being 11 years older, or maybe it’s having gone thru this journey and surviving (and then thriving) something that is often said to be one of the hardest things in life, or maybe it’s having developed a stronger feeling of faith that things will be okay. 11 years ago when Lynn passed, I lost a piece of myself, I lost the Lynn-and-Grace that had existed before she passed, I had lost my future plans. When my Mom passed, I again lost a piece of myself and identity, and even what feels like my past. Reflecting on these two losses, I now realize I have to – over time and at my own pace – need to allow for an evolved life and identity of myself to live. This is a very new thought process for me! And it gives me a sense of peace in relieving myself of feeling obligated to “hold onto” items or even habits to keep their memories or legacy alive. Also – I hope I keep running regularly again!