Last year my sister convinced me to train for my first triathlon. This was the Galveston 70.3. We were running already, I had a bike, and I had a background in swimming growing up. More importantly, I needed a time to escape from the stresses of this world, and being able to leave my cell phone and work behind for a few hours a day was the biggest relief of them all. I thought one and done – check that off my bucket list. But that first race proved to me one thing – that no matter how painful the event was, if it meant that much to Angie, then it was worth another shot.

My little sister has been an amazing friend the past few years. I am so thankful for her love, her smile, her humor, her strong spirit and her patience. She would bike excruciantingly slow to “keep” up with me and not complain one bit b/c she knew I needed to get on that bike. She would slow down a run even if she felt good and say something like, “I’m glad we slowed down, my legs hurt” even if that wasn’t the case. She would push me up a hill on her bike when I was doubting my abilities. She would drive me 24 hours to paradise that is Southern Utah all the while with me pouting about not getting to go to South Africa or my silly life. She would surprise me with hand-cut, freshly foraged sunflowers to cheer me up. She is my rock. I love her to death.

This year I couldn’t finish the race because my left knee is not in runable condition. As I got off my bike and watched my sister finish, I was the first person she gave a hug to. And even though what I made her for dinner didn’t sit well in her stomach, she had this amazing glow to her that let me know that we had done this journey together. I am the proudest sister in the world. I wouldn’t trade my experience in triathlons for anything else. It gives me the excuse to hang out with my best friend.

So I guess that means I’ll be racing next year. 🙂

And while we are here, read this and use #50womentokona