LOGAN — A diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease transformed Kim Lundgreen’s life in unexpected ways.
When Lundgreen received the news from his doctor in 2017, he was devastated. He’d enjoyed an active lifestyle—hiking, running the St. George Marathon for 25 consecutive years, and exploring the world with his wife, Mindy. He thought a diagnosis of Parkinson’s meant he could never do these things again.
As time passed, Lundgreen, now 67, experienced noticeable deterioration. Those tremors and muscle rigidity turned him from an ultramarathoner into someone who found it hard to walk across his living room without support. The loss of his wife to ovarian cancer in 2024 left him questioning how he would move forward.
But then something clicked: he decided to rediscover movement the way he used to during adventures with Mindy. He also wanted to inspire others to embrace movement, too.
“When I first heard the diagnosis, I thought, oh, that Parkinson’s,” he reflected. “But just the act of moving has lifted me up. Encouraging others to get moving has turned this diagnosis into something of a gift for me. I want to live until I’m 90! Moving is my key.”
Lundgreen realized that wanting to move and actually doing it were two different things. A recent visit to the Grand Tetons was an eye-opener for him.
“When I saw him, I was shocked. He struggled to walk across a room,” shared David Toone, Lundgreen’s friend, and “soul brother,” who is also 68. “I asked him if he wanted to climb Middle Teton, and he said yes. That really struck me. Sure, he was still fragile, but he was willing to give it a shot.”
He had to come to terms with the fact that walking even short distances would be more challenging than he anticipated. And he faced the reality that his speed was gone; Parkinson’s was still part of his life, and moving came with pain.
The climb was tough for all involved, but Toone and others supported Lundgreen, helping him navigate the rugged paths. This support made the hike longer and more difficult, but Toone felt it was worth every minute spent getting his friend moving again.
As Lundgreen climbed, memories of his early days of marathon running and hiking flooded back—once he started moving, he felt great and began to chat about the importance of being active.
“I feel better now than when I was diagnosed,” he declared.
Lundgreen joined a boxing class in Logan and began encouraging others to take the stairs instead of the elevator. He signed up for a 5K and later a trail marathon, wanting to illustrate the significance of movement to others.
Although he doesn’t like to preach on social media, he prefers sharing his message through conversations, allowing people to engage with questions and new ideas.
His philosophy is straightforward: Running marathons isn’t necessary, but movement is essential. Once you start doing something, it opens the door to dreaming about a fulfilling future with Parkinson’s.
Lundgreen’s journey has garnered international attention, including inquiries from a Parkinson’s patient in Australia seeking advice on returning to running.
The most surprising outreach came from Dean Karnazes, a renowned ultramarathon runner, who offered his support and proposed a run together the next time he’s in Utah.
Despite the attention, Lundgreen remains focused on his goals. His top bucket list item is to climb Mount Kilimanjaro and revisit Salzburg, Austria, where he and Mindy enjoyed a “Sound of Music” tour.
Above all, Lundgreen looks forward to living long enough to witness advancements in Parkinson’s research.
“I want to be here when they find a cure for Parkinson’s,” he said. “I genuinely feel better now than when I was first diagnosed. The 5K race felt like breaking through a wall. As long as I’m moving, I feel fantastic.”
