We started out at a good pace. The night sky lit by a staggering amount of electricity that still amazes me. Overhead, the fireworks exploded, lasting much longer than I expected– at least until sunrise. The pounding of feet all around us and my sister and I, finally at the race rather than just training for it.
My only goal was just to keep us on pace. I just wanted her to finish, and feel good. That’s probably what I’ve wanted this whole time. My worst fear was not that she’d train for one race and then never run again; my worst fear was that she wouldn’t enjoy it. The purpose of training, and getting to the race, was to have fun. With all she’s had to deal with in the last year– with all we both have– I just kept hoping that the running would be the escape.
Between mile five and six, she asked me how we were doing. “Pretty good,” I said, “almost at six.” This stunned her, that the miles could go so fast with the help of distraction. I told her it would [hopefully] be this way. That this is how races were for me. Just distracting enough for the miles to pass without notice. It’s one reason I’ll pay a hundred dollars to run.
We talked a little during the last few miles. I, in my ever-emotional state, started watching the clock and thinking wow, we’re really going to do this and in a good time, too. I’d get a little choked up thinking of how proud of her I was. How far she’d come in four months, from running one mile, to running ten and a half (our last long run). I held it together pretty well, until mile 13. She saw the marker, looked over at me and asked “Are we going to make it?” She meant our time, but to me that meant so much more. I nodded and the lump in my throat grew. I’ve never felt like this in a race before. There’s never been that much pride.
“Well then,” she said, “let’s go!” And she took off for the finish. She got about ten yards ahead of me when I had to get over that lump in my throat and pick it up. I didn’t know this, but apparently it’s impossible for me to cry and run at the same time. So I just caught up to her, kept silent and rounded the corner to the finish line. We looked up at the clock, grabbed each other’s hand and crossed the mat together. I’ve had a lot of good races, but this one was all it’s own.
Nicole says:
Congrats. What a great experience.
If you decide to run in the outer banks you’ll have to let me know - maybe it’ll sway me.
December 6th, 2007 at 8:26 am
sizzle says:
i just got choked up reading that.
congrats! to you both!
December 6th, 2007 at 8:55 am
brookem says:
I teared up reading it as well. What a wonderful experience to share with your sister! You’re a wonderful mentor!
December 6th, 2007 at 9:46 am
barbara bruederlin says:
That made me all verklempft too! How lovely.
It was so much more than a race, wasn’t it?
December 6th, 2007 at 10:05 am
JACC says:
Great story. I think my small heart three sizes . . .
“My worst fear was not that she’d train for one race and then never run again”
That’s me; your worst fear. I trained for one marathon and I haven’t ran since.
December 6th, 2007 at 11:11 am
Bre says:
So so so so cute!
Even though the idea of paying to run baffles me (especially running outside, which for some reason turns me off completely), I can’t help but want to do it when I hear you (read you?) talk (write?) about it!
December 6th, 2007 at 1:12 pm
The Exception says:
This was touching. You shared such a wonderful moment - experience… that is something that each of you will probably cherish for very different reasons.
Beautifully written!
December 6th, 2007 at 1:36 pm
jacinta says:
Magic.
Well done. I finally did my first fun-run last week-end and my friend and I (also a first timer) ran the entire distance together. As we crossed the finish line, our times differed by one second.
It was a great great moment.
December 6th, 2007 at 2:37 pm
Joe says:
Great story. It reminded me of when I ran with my brother in the Vancouver Half last May.
December 6th, 2007 at 3:25 pm
backofpack says:
And that, my dear, is what it is all about, family, running, pride, accomplishment, love and bonding, all woven together.
December 6th, 2007 at 5:57 pm
Craig says:
How wonderful to share this experience with your sister. Beautifully told.
December 6th, 2007 at 7:04 pm
brandy says:
Jeez! I got a little lump in my throat reading that. Congratulations- to the both of you for finding something you love.
December 6th, 2007 at 10:18 pm
Database Diva says:
I always get choked up when reading about someone who ran with her sister. My sister was one of my best friends, and while I don’t think she would ever go for a long distance, I bet she would have loved running a 5K with me. I miss her terribly. I have another sister, but she is 20 years older than me and has health issues, so we probably won’t be running together, either. I did get to cross the finish line of the WDW marathon while holding my son’s hand, and that was pretty special, too. It’s great to be able to share the things you love with the people you love. It is also great that you were able to give her something else to think about while waiting for her husband to come home.
December 7th, 2007 at 12:20 am
girlgoyle says:
You are inspiring. Reading your blog makes me want to drop everything I’m doing and try this thing called running. : )
December 7th, 2007 at 5:35 am
Danielle says:
Oh, that’s so awesome. I so wish I had that option with someone. I can’t get any of my friends or family to start running, even offering to run with them. You are so lucky!
December 7th, 2007 at 7:28 am
nicole says:
so sweet … and great that you made your time!
December 7th, 2007 at 1:45 pm
runliarun says:
Oh, you are so rich. I don’t even know what you are talking about.
December 7th, 2007 at 2:59 pm
angie says:
That is sooo awesome. Great report! What a wonderful experience for u both!
December 8th, 2007 at 6:20 am