Memories are funny things.
I have a sister that is 13 months younger than me. She recounted a story of a January when she and I were 18 and 19. She had just left the house and slipped and fell on ice on the sidewalk and broke her ankle. She crawled back up onto the porch and knocked on the door. I let her in and apparently questioned her on how she knew her ankle was broken. I called our Mom at work to come home to take her to the hospital. My sister remembers the whole ordeal in vivid detail, of course. She went back to college with her foot in a cast and on crutches. I have absolutely no memory of her with a broken ankle.
We both remember a story when she was 8 and had fallen off a bike riding down a hill and I ran back to the car and took care of her knee with a bandanna and left over water from my lunch box thermos. Wonder why I remember that incident and not the other?
For my last day in Ohio I headed back over to the Wellington Reservation and ran every inch of the trails there to get in my 4 mile run. It seems to be a pretty popular little destination. There were quite a few other folks out there walking the loops.
Tomorrow its back to work and back to my old faithful routes.