Through high school, the two of us kept in shape in dance classes and on the pom pon squad.
The kind of exercise we did was akin to a sprint--full-out performing for 3-4 minutes, but no steady long duration exercise.When we were both adults living in Baltimore, we decided to start running. We went to a track and ran one lap, walked on, ran one, walked on, etc. Each time out we'd run a little more. After about six weeks, we ran a 5K.
Who knew that when we ran that first 1/4 mile, she'd end up running more than 100 times that?!?
I knew I'd be proud of her. But when her husband posted a picture of her crossing the finish line, arms up in triumph, I didn't expect to cry. And me telling her that made her cry.
I love my sister. I have always looked up to her. To me, she is perfect--she can do no wrong. She is the most caring, unselfish, cool-headed person I know. She's an awesome mom. I treasured living in the same city as her for six years so we were able to build that really close adult relationship. It's now been almost 8 since I moved away, and I do miss her proximity, but she is never far away.
