In keeping with my sister shout-outs, allow me to introduce you to my oldest sister, Laura aka Bub, which stems from Joge’s inability to say her name as a child, coming out as “Bubba.”  While she’s not what I picture when I think “Bubba,” clearly the name has stuck.  She’s best described as a free spirit, often fiesty, energetic, kind-hearted person who would do anything in the world for you.  Unless, of course, you make her angry or mess with one of her family members.  In which case, I’d run if I were you.

A lot of the time we spend together is exercising.  Before I crossed over into the world of running, we would spend hours walking.  I’ll never forget the time we walked seven miles for the first time.  That’s the funny thing about trails.  You feel so good when you are headed in that you can forget about the fact you have to double up and come back out.  I begged her to carry me the rest of the way, and she rudely refused. 😦  She makes up for this by always staking a protective claim over me should we ever encounter any enemies on the trail.  I was ever-so-grateful the day I was running 20 miles in preparation for the Pittsburgh marathon, and I went ahead while she rested for a few minutes.  I ended up turning back because I spotted a flock of geese up ahead, and off she went on her bike ahead to send them flying off. She’s much braver than I am, but then again, she’s never had one chase her either. Shudder.

We have gotten caught in rainstorms and ended up drenched and filthy, and we have prayed with giddiness that we would get rained on only to be disappointed.  All the while, laughing.  Laughing is a frequent event when we are together.  Whether it’s laughing at each other’s expense or someone else’s, it’s always an adventure: waving at people we don’t know, talking to cats and dogs through windows, dogs trying to have us for lunch, arguing over who the cars are beeping at (I’m telling you it’s her underwear…I mean her shorts catching the driver’s attention), me walking into tree branches because my nose was in my phone, bugs attacking or flying down my throat (I don’t find this the least bit funny), or stepping into not-so-great or questionable substances.

Now that I am a running fool, we don’t walk very much anymore, but she will occasionally run a few miles with me.  She walks by herself sometimes, and will send me the occasional picture of what I’m missing.



When we run, she calls me her drill sergeant because I won’t let her quit when she starts to complain.  Sometimes she cooperates, and sometimes she doesn’t.  She has gotten quite creative with her excuses to quit early or not start at all, but she forgets who she is talking to.  Ahem…the person who invented excuses at a young age.  There’s more on that in “From the Beginning.”

She often tries to use her physical strength against me, as she is ridiculously strong for her size.

I'm a beast!

She’s a beast in disguise!

One of my favorite moments is the battle of the marshmallows.

I'ma get you!

Let’s talk this over…

Evidence of who is in charge

Okay, you asked for it.  Hope you’re hungry!

We can play nice too

We can play nice, too.

When walking or running, we will often engage in back-and-forth banter about throwing one another in the creek, or dipping one’s hair in the mud.  A fun game I play is first running my mouth, giving her an unexpected shove off the trail, and then making a run for it.  She never catches me, but eventually I have to go back to get her, where she squeezes me until it hurts.  Then later, it starts all over again. Good times. 😀

When I ran the Pittsburgh marathon, it was one of my roughest races because of the heat and humidity.  What made it easier was my sister was there to cheer me on at every corner.  Literally.  She and her fiance managed to find me at SEVEN spots along the course.  It was such a nice surprise to see a familiar face and hear the screams from a quarter mile away.  She told me later it would have been eight, but they couldn’t get through because of the road closures.  She was able to get a lot of cool pictures, including one of the worst (and funniest) pictures of myself I have ever seen.  Even better, she not only added a decorate border, but she posted it on Facebook and tagged me.  Fabulous.  IMG_1356Regardless, it meant the world to me.

We also had a blast at the Richmond marathon in 2012, where she rocked the 8K race. Git it, sister!  😀

Can't miss those shoes!

Can’t miss those shoes!


Time will tell if she crosses over into the world of running love, but I’m sure there are many more adventures to come either way.  Sending love your way, sister! 🙂

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2 Responses to Bubbles

  1. olivetorun says:

    WOW… okay story time… when I was a baby I blew spit bubbles constantly so my parents and family started calling me bubbles which turned into Bub or Bubbie.
    You’re the first person I’ve ever heard talk about nicknaming someone that/something similar. Loved reading this!


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