Over Afternoon Tea

Tea is not only a drink but a ritual over which people have been relaxing, talking, and catching up on each other's lives for centuries. This blog is intended to serve as a virtual cup of tea, helping me keep in touch with friends and family in my physical absence.

My Sister Rocks

We stood by the side of the road, the sun beating down on our heads and the asphalt. Before us a silent sea of humanity surged forward in wave after wave of runners. I was surprised at how little noise they made--only the sounds of their feet beating the pavement, the rough panting of their breath, and the tinkling and squashing of plastic cups from the water-station being kicked aside or stepped on. The scene was far from silent, but the noise was coming from the sides of the road, where people were lined up along all 26 miles, 385 yards to cheer the runners on in sporadic whoops, yells and applause.

We had been standing there about half an hour, scanning the crowd anxiously for a bright blue shirt and lime green biking shorts. The pat-pat-pat of feet came on and on, and the plastic cups rolled off the road while the people behind us randomly hollered or broke into a short chant of "Oh, Canada!" whenever an appropriately attired runner came by.

"There she is! Tiffany! Whoohoo! Go Tiffany!"

I spotted her on the far side of the road, almost abreast with us already. Her face was tired, warmed into a gentle smile by our cheers. She managed a wave to let us know she appreciated the encouragement. And I nearly started crying. My baby sister, with the stubborn streak that made her sit down on a soccer-ball to keep the other team from getting it away in her elementary years, was running a marathon.

Monday was just the tip of the iceberg for Tiffany. Over the last 5 months she's run the marathon twenty times over in her daily training runs. Even in the winter cold, she was out there every day. The day of the race, the weather jumped to 85--about twenty degrees hotter, she said, than anything she'd trained in. Runners were dropping out left and right from the heat. Tiffany told us later that she was constantly on the verge of heat stroke for about 20 miles of the race. She was deeply disappointed at having to walk part of the way to keep from overheating and blacking out. She made it in roughly 5 1/2 hours. 26 miles in the heat and sun. I felt a bit faint after just standing in the sun for an hour and a half waiting to see her come through. When I saw her, she was tired, but the look on her face told me what I'd known since she said she was going to run the race--she was going to finish.


Yet suddeenly the stubborn streak of my kid sister has been transformed by a wisdom and strength and humility that seem to have popped up overnight in her--sometime when I wasn't looking. She has a quiet strength. She was hot and tired and discouraged, but she was running, and smiling gently. I've never been the athletic type, and I don't really envy her ability to run. But her strength and gentleness inspire me. She won her race on Monday. And I couldn't be prouder.