Sunday, February 6, 2011

I'm ALIVE...and crazy

Last month my sister, Nelyn, signed both of us up for the Redondo Beach Superbowl 10k Run. When she told me she was registering us, I carefully removed any traces of shock from my face. Number one, my sister HATES running and number two, she...well...HATES running. I've secretly longed to run a race with her but knew any attempts at convincing her would be futile. Instead of dramatizing this new venture of hers I opted for stoicism. 

One of my 2011 behavioral changes was to stop obsessing over training for or running any races. Last year, I severely injured my back and missed out on 2 half-marathons which led me to believe that supernatural forces were on a covert mission to stop me from running. So this year I decided I was going to focus on healing my body until my sister registered us for the 10k run. I had 3 weeks to buck up and shut up. I wasn't going to talk about it, I was going to just do it. 

Things were going well and I almost forgot about the supernatural forces on their covert mission to abort Nannette's running plans until I went down with the flu five days ago! My sister and I were both sick. I fought it, succumbed to it, then wasted my entire Saturday in bed. I drank Nyquil like it was wine, took Robitussin during the day to get through work, was told by my co-workers that I resembled death, and thought I was never going to leave my bed yesterday. Ray very cautiously chose his words of concern and asked if I was going to be able to run on Sunday. I told him I was (in between my hacking coughs.) 

Call me stubborn, call me crazy, heck, call me stupid, or call me all of the above but I defied my body's sickness very early this morning. I promised Ray I wouldn't overdo it. I assured him I would only walk the entire 6.2 miles and tried to silence the little voice I heard that said I was not going to listen to my convictions. 

It was overcast and chilly this morning and my sister and I swigged Robitussin with a healthy dose of prayer. We told each other we'd walk...ONLY walk...but we both gave the other that knowing look only sisters can decipher. I warned her that she was going to become addicted  after this and she quickly shot me down. Undeterred by her vehement denial, I insisted that once she felt empowered by the high of running she was going to be hooked, obsessed, and addicted. "There is no drug or alcohol that compares to the high you're going to get when you cross that finish line. You will feel empowered and no one, not even a guy, will take that from you." I was right, of course. I AM the older sister. 

We were enveloped by the incessant hum of unrestrained energy that reminds me of the ascending buzz I get after imbibing half a glass of wine. It was affecting my sister and I knew we were going to be addicts together. True to nature, we didn't walk the entire 10k but ended up running the last few miles, crossing the finish line with hands clasped and held high in victory. We did it! But I still have to buck up and shut up because I know if I complain about jacked knees, a sore back, or worse, a flu relapse, I won't get any sympathy from Ray. 

Future members of running addicts anonymous: 
Daly, Me and Nelyn at the start line

Pachapor, Daly, and my sister: my new running fiends, I mean friends.

 You think I'M crazy? These are some of the people in their costumes! I didn't stop to take a picture of the bride-to-be and her bachelorette party, the Elvis impersonator, a group of Golden Girl wannabes in skimpy mardi gras attire, or the group running as a Chinese dragon. 

I tried to beat this man, I really did! Instead, I choked on his dust. 

 To fuel the energy we expended we treated ourselves to Moscato, Cabernet Sauvignon, Mediterranean food and...

...homemade Tiramisu (my favorite) and lemon bread pudding dessert!