I have been realizing that the older I get, the more my sisters mean to me.
If you have been following this blog for even a little bit, you know that I have set a goal to eventually run a full marathon. I haven't put a date on that goal (I should probably do that...I'm thinking June of next year) but I have begun to work towards it by running half marathons. I have run two in the last three months and each of them were quite challenging in their own ways. Salt Lake was hot. Anchorage was hilly.
I was really nervous about the Salt Lake Half. It was my first solo run and I wasn't sure I was going to be able to do it as well as I wanted to. I had been training, but I wasn't really following a training program and was up and down in my distances. When I got to the starting line I felt a little overwhelmed. I didn't even KNOW anyone that was running it that I could start out with. I searched the crowd for a familiar face and found no one. I haven't felt that alone in a while. I started out the race well, I actually did the first three miles in about 27 minutes which is the FASTEST 5k I have ever run. I was actually doing well till about mile 10 and that is where I just decided that I didn't want to be running anymore. The best way I can describe it is a desperation to stop moving. I started whimpering to myself. Not straight up crying, but just... a really strong desire to give up. About this time, I see off in front of me what appears to be my little sister Joree and her husband Kody. They hadn't told me they were coming. In fact I don't even think I asked them to come, but regardless, they were there, right where I needed them. I got so excited that I ran to the side of the group and called out her name in an almost desperate cry. She instantly started cheering me on and it gave me the push I needed to finish hard. As I ran past her I started crying. I was so grateful for her at that moment.
Fast forward to last weekend. If I thought my training for the SL Half was spotty, I would say my training for the Mayor's Half was non-existant. With work and trying to be an active YSA during the summer months made for a very little amount of time to train. But foolishly I still signed up for the race. I guess I just didn't want to chicken out even though realistically it wasn't the smartest thing to do. The night before my older sister Jamie decided to come be my cheerleader and bike the race along with me. I think by cheerleader, she meant all out running/inspiration coach. She was with me every step of the way telling me to push and then talked me through the tough parts. I am pretty positive not many people around me appreciated her constant talk, but I was so thankful she was with me.
So I am glad that I am sealed to my sisters. They support me in my goals (no matter how stupid) and they push me when I need it (which is quite often) . If I ever make it onto an EFY CD, it will be because these two helped me make it possible.
This was the most recent picture of all of us girls together...it was taken over a year ago. Sad.
We used to have a pillow at our house. I don't know where it came from, and I don't know who gave it to us, but it said, 'Chance made us sisters, hearts made us friends.' I'm glad that my heart is bound to theirs forever, because, though we may fight and argue and bicker amongst ourselves (I mean, come on, we are girls!), they are the only ones I want to be with in the eternities.