My younger brother Will had a hard lot growing up: He had to grow up in the shadow of his intelligent, witty, good-looking, outgoing older sister (me).  Over the years he had but one thing to lord over me: his athleticism.  I’ll give credit where credit is due – he was a pretty decent water polo player.  Meanwhile, team sports weren’t my thing.  Hand-Eye coordination? Not something I possess.   And Will just loved to boast of his athletic superiority.  After all, it was all he had.

But then I discovered I was a pretty decent runner.  Certainly not the fastest in the bunch, but I could go for a while.  Sure, Will could tread water for a few minutes and throw a ball into a net, but could he run 8-10 miles on a daily basis?  Not so much.  No longer could he boast of athletic superiority.

This threatened him, and recently he decided he finally needed to prove his running dominance.  Oh silly Will.  Running is for Diana!

Last year Will announced he was going to run the Marine Corps Marathon in October 2010.  I had to admire his ambition, if not his hubris.  You see, his reason for registering for the race was to run a marathon before I did.  Well, we (my dad and I) decided to make it a family event, so my dad, mom, husband and I all decided to register.  Again, Will was not pleased.

“You can’t run the marathon!” he protested.  “It’s my marathon!”

Well clearly that just wasn’t true.  I relished the opportunity to compete against my brother, especially because I was confident I could beat him.  Interestingly, shortly after I registered Will backed out of the race, claiming it would interfere with his water polo training.  Sure, sure.  Whatever you say, Will.

Out of my family, my husband and I were the only ones that actually ran the marathon, as my parents suffered injuries and illness.  In the end, I ran a 4:00:58 time.  Like I said before, I’m not a speed demon, but I was very satisfied with what I considered a respectable first marathon time.  Much better than I had anticipated, actually!

I strained my hammie and aggravated a pre-existing knee injury during the marathon, and temporarily hung up my running shoes.  After I had built up my base again, I got pregnant and once again scaled back the running.  Will saw this as his chance to try to best me.  He competed in his first half marathon, and should be pleased with how he performed.  Sure, he was quite slower than my half-marathon time (I won’t say by how much – I don’t want to embarrass him) but completing a half-marathon is an accomplishment regardless of time.

Then, taking it a step further, he registered for the Las Vegas marathon to be run in December of 2011.  That’s when this happened:

His marathon dreams? Dashed!  I actually genuinely sympathize.  I too have had race ambitions shattered due to injury.  In fact, I’ve even sported The Boot.  But this is a great example of what happens when one pointlessly tries to compete with a sibling.  Will’s sole motivation for running this marathon was to beat my time.  NOT a good reason to run 26.2 miles, and likely to lead to overtraining and in Will’s case, fractures.  Perhaps he has finally learned his lesson.  For the sake of his health, I hope so.

As his older sister, I must now offer unsolicited advice that he will likely loathe and dispute.  But I will offer it anyway, because that’s what I do:

1)    Work The Boot.  Own The Boot.  Be The Boot.  It’s all about confidence.  The Boot may seem a burdensome, unattractive accessory for the time being, but embrace it and you will find that you exude mystery and ruggedness, rather than clumsiness and stupidity.

2)    Building off #1, The Boot is a great conversation starter.  People will be eager to know how you hurt yourself.  This is a great opportunity to build yourself up to unknowing strangers, particularly girls.  They will be oozing sympathy.  Just don’t tell them you were trying to beat your older sister.

3)    Be a man and ditch the handicap pass.  You are perfectly capable of traversing parking lots in The Boot.  The handicap pass makes you look weak and lazy, negating any coolness or sympathy you may gain from #1 and #2.  Three times a week in college, I walked a mile to the swimming pool, swam, and then walked a mile back to my sorority house all in The Boot.  If I can do that, you can surely survive sans handicap pass.

Oh Brother Will, I really, really do feel your pain.  I love you, and I would never wish physical pain upon you.  Only shame and humiliation.  I take comfort knowing you feel the same toward me.  You have now proven that I still own the athletic title of the siblings.  OK, maybe we can be tied since you can bench press more than me and you played a club sport in college.  I will remind you I once challenged you to a plank contest, which you refused (because you know I have incredible core strength?)  I’d like to reissue the challenge as a tiebreaker.  Whoever can hold a plank the longest wins.  (Once you are healed and I am no longer pregnant, obviously).

Best of luck.