I laced my worn, scuffed shoes, yawned and shuffled into the fluorescently lit kitchen . As my eyes grew accustom to the brightness, my younger sister’s beaming face slowly came into focus. I blinked again. Before I could even mumble a hello, she started off on a long chain of comments. My eleven year old sister rambled on in the way only a pre-teen can about her strategy for the upcoming race, how much she like her new sneakers, and if it was OK to eat grapes before running. Today was the much anticipated road race and Jordan, my sister, was running in it. Having been weary about it at first, she finally conceded when I promised to run it with her; this is what let to her frenzied excitement, and our matching pink T-shirts.
As we arrived at the race, my sister enthusiasm was calmed by her awe of the hugeness of it all. Thousands of people surrounded us; the blaring speaker blew out music; balloons and streamers made a collage of decorations on the side of the street. I led my big-eyed sister into the midst of the crowd and towards the start line, amused by her amazement.
This race was notorious for its torturous hills, and we soon were able to vouch for this. We ran up, up, up and recovered on the way down. We endured the treacherous hills and distance for the first four miles, pushing each other literally and with words. At the next mile we arrived at a monster hill. I heard a low grown of disgust and exhaustion from the little person at my side. Dreading the long incline myself, I had a hard time mustering up the piece of encouragement she needed. Hearing her slow shuffling feet, I held out my hand for a high five and declared, “Let’s do it. Let’s get to the top.” To my surprise she slapped my outstretched hand and responded with a hint of determination and resolution, “Let’s do it!” With that, we together surged the hill, conquering our exhaustion.
When we finished the race, I flooded her with congratulations. She smiled proudly and boasted, “That’s the furthest I’ve ever run.” As she strutted towards my mother, leaving me behind, I was hit by a wave of pride, thankfulness, and love. My goofy, peppy sister and I had run the race together; we had showered each other with encouragement sporadically throughout, pushing each other on. Although we will both grow older and live away from each other, I was hit with the revelation of something great. I now understood that my sister and I will encourage each other when we are weary, we will push each other up the hills we find ourselves in life, and we will celebrate and be together in the times of elation. It is now, that I understand and believe in the utmost importance of sisterhood.
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