Soul Sisters: Miranda
Soul Sisters: Elaine
Soul Sisters: Introduction
The First Five

It's much better to face these things

with a sense of poise and rationality.

Panic at the Disco

*~*~*~*

The first time I met saw her, I glared. Hard.

I say saw, because we didn't actually meet until several months later. The day LeAnn (Sarka) Nord arrived on UIndy's campus for a recruiting visit, I purposefully marched right past her, to a seat in the back of the room. Where I crossed my arms, put a scowl on my face, and sent mean vibes her way. The Go home. We don't want you. Please don't choose our school. kind of vibes.

I didn't know much about her other than she was currently attending Detroit Mercy, she had great taste in clothes, and her mom was taking her shopping afterward.

Also she was fast.

Probably faster than me.

At that time I was MVP of women's distance running at the University of Indianapolis. And I had no desire to give up, or even share, my throne. Just the idea of it made my face turn red and my heart beat fast and my competitive drive kick up to irrational levels.

Running has always been one of my precious few talents. In college, I felt like it was my only shot at accomplishing something notable in life. So I let it define me. Convinced myself I owned the whole program. It was my sport. My team. The records were mine to break.

That is, until this bitch with great form and even better times showed up to shove me off the stage and steal the show.

So no. Helllll no. I was not about to give her a warm welcome. There would be no rolling out of the red carpet from me. Well, not unless I could immediately pull it out from underneath her. Break her legs or something.

To everyone else, LeAnn was a vision of hope. The extra shot of speed we needed to make it to nationals as a team. To me she was a razor sharp needle careening toward my perfect little bubble. And much to my very obvious dismay, there was nothing I could do to stop her.

So I did what any desperate, half-crazed collegiate runner would do. The summer before she joined us, I obsessed. Annihilated workouts. Analyzed easy day mile splits. Researched crazy core routines, and regimented nutrition.

Let the voice in my head incessantly chant: harder, better, faster, stronger.

Do I spend too much time on my feet, or not enough? Am I oversleeping or undersleeping? Are there a lot of hills in Ft. Wayne? I bet she's running a lot of hills. I need to go find some hills.

Harder, better, faster, stronger.

Every mile, every step, brought me closer to the inevitable Season of Epic Dueling with my nemesis. And I was damn sure going to be ready.

(Nevermind the fact that summers are for base building. Not speed. You aren't supposed to be in peak shape at the start of cross country season. If you are, you'll likely be burnt out by the time the championship races roll around. I knew that. But apparently I considered beating my teammate more important than beating the real competition.)

As the summer came to a close, my fitness was at an all-time high and my curiosity had reached a fever pitch. Have I done enough? What is she doing? How did she train? For the love of God someone please tell me how this battle is going to unfold!

When I couldn't take it any longer, I sent her a message on Facebook. Wished her a happy birthday (lie), told her we were so glad to have her (lie)(well, for me anyway), then launched into a monologue about the team and my training. That may or may not have ended with So what's your base pace? I've been running around 6:30-6:45. Which I'm pretty sure I meant to be an intimidating statement.

Oh yeah. I was that insecure. Slash weird. Slash rude. And unfortunately.....it got worse, before it got better.

Summer finally ended and we all arrived at camp. As fate would have it, LeAnn and I wound up alone on the very first run. We started with the team, but one by one they turned off for shorter routes, until it was just me and my highly-anticipated adversary.

At first we ran in silence. I lead us along the narrow trail, hooves pounding the dusty ground, lungs laboring under humid air. Listening intently to the chorus of creatures. Focusing my eyes on the shards of sunlight that pierced through the blur of trees. Anything to distract from the giant elephant keeping pace between us. But the farther we went the more demanding he became, overpowering my senses with his deafening trumpet. It was brain-rattling loud.

This is it, I thought. The time has come. The battle starts now. I'm ready. I'm prepared for this.

Right?

Why do I feel so tired?

I wasn't just tired. I was exhausted. All the hostility, all the imaginary drama I'd conjured up to fuel my summer workouts, suddenly refused to come when called. Instead the delayed fatigue of my mental and physical boot camp hit me like an anvil.

That's the (insert adjective that fits your opinion here) thing about nature. You can't hide from the truth. Out there in the woods, away from the smoke-and-mirror-filled city, I could no longer ignore the fact that LeAnn wasn't planning a personal attack. She might very well knock me off the top of the podium, but not maliciously. She was there for the same reason as the rest of us. To take our passion for running to the next level, while pursuing higher education.

Nothing more, nothing less.

As my clouded judgement cleared, I knew it was time to lay my weapons down. Call an end to my one-sided war.

Which....was much easier thought than done. Because even though logic tells us the opposite of war is peace, we've already established I rarely operate on logic. I'm more of a perpetual panic kind of gal. And panic I did.

Now what am I supposed to do? I thought. I had a vision for the season, and become besties with the enemy was not part of the picture. Yet if I'm not going to fight her....I guess that means I have to give her a chance.

I like to describe what happened next as my Reverse Frank Moment.

Reverse Frank Moment refers to a scene from the movie Old School in which Frank, the most intellectually challenged member of the group, debates with a professional. Everyone is expecting him to ramble and fail, but instead he delivers a perfect, fluent answer. After he finishes speaking, he "wakes up" and says to his teammates What happened? I blacked out.

It'll make sense in a second. First let's recap.

LeAnn and I are running. And as far as I know she's just hanging out, enjoying the scenery. Meanwhile I'm fa-reaking out about an imaginary elephant and my very real teammate and the truce to a war she didn't even know had occurred.

And it seemed to me that the only way to get the elephant to shut his trunk would be to start talking. Strike up a conversation. Get to know this girl.

Okay. I can do that. That's not hard. I'll just....

And then the run was over.

To this day, I can't explain what happened those last few miles. All I know is I told a total stranger my entire life story. Hit her with alllll my crazy in hideously embarrassing detail.

It was like I'd blacked out, like Frank, except the rush of words that barreled from my mouth were completely void of dignity. They were unfiltered and soul-baring and totally inappropriate for the circumstance.

Fortunately for me, I don't remember exactly what I said. But I cringe to think of how it all played out for LeAnn. My guess is if you asked her to summarize that bizarre scene, she'd show you this clip:

Minus the teammate cutting in to save me from myself.

When we got back to our campsite, I tried to pretend I hadn't just made a total ass of myself in front of the new girl, and given her just cause to rescind her commitment to our program.

So outwardly, I smiled and laughed with the other girls. But inwardly, I was having a straight up Frank Moment.

(Sidenote: I wish Old School was LeAnn and I's favorite movie of all time or something so I would have an excuse for all these clips. Buuuut it's not. They just seem to exemplify what I'm trying to say pretty well. Also movie clips are fun.)

The part where they're in the locker room after he misses his jump through a flaming hoop while wearing the mascot uniform, and ends up on fire.

Before the clip starts he's walking around slamming his hand on the lockers saying "DAMNIT! ..... IDIOT." Then one of the other guys starts trying to pump everyone back up and tell them the competition isn't over yet...and Frank jumps in with:

Outwardly: smiling. Inwardly: Frank.

What the hell is wrong with you? You're an IDIOT. You gotta KEEP YOUR COMPOSURE!

I was positive I had just ruined my chances of being friends with LeAnn. That I'd set myself up for one awful, awkward season of training instead.

And honestly I think if the new girl had been anyone else, I would've been right.

But Thank God, it was LeAnn. Because I swear she didn't so much as flinch at my shenanigans. She accepted me exactly as I was, and we became fast friends. Known by the team as Partners in Crime by the first meet of the season.

Initially it baffled me. I even began to wonder if I didn't send the Facebook message, and if I'd made the whole life story scenario up. But after thousands of miles and years of friendship I've come to learn that's just who she is. The total opposite of me.

Unflappable.

A boss when it comes to poise under pressure.

As in, you could spend a whole day rattling her cage with all your might, and she'd be just as chill at hour 24, as she was when you first started.

Because she's far too rational and self-assured to ever be intimidated. Be it by strength or speed or a five foot one inch crazy hot mess of teammate.

Unlike me, LeAnn does not analyze, or overthink.
She doesn't incessently worry about unknowns.

Because she knows you run your best race, when you run your race.

Not when you adopt the training style of a Kenyan, or warm-up routine of a national champion, or competitive tactics of the lead runner at a rival school.

Your race.

When you accept both your strengths and your weaknesses, then measure your life accordingly.

It's why she is, and always will be a better competitor than me.

And it's why I need her beside me on my wedding day. As my reminder to run our race, and make decisions based on what's right for us.

Because it's not about keeping up with the Nords' and their awesome adventurous lifestyle. Or the Tranchant's and their snazzy new custom home. Or the Nieten's and their perfect piece of northside suburbia.

It's about following life's path in the direction and speed that leads to our vision of success.

Love you Whorebag. THANK YOU for ignoring my negative vibes and coming to UIndy anyway. I wouldn't trade you for all the MVP awards in the world.

*~*~*~*~*

Our very first picture together. The caption on Facebook says:
Me and the transfer who's going to kick my ass. It's all good though. She's nice.


First Meet. We were partners for the Wabash Hokum Karem. That's Partners in Crime written on our arms.

On our way to a meet in Chicago.

Stopped for dinner on our way to Chicago. Nice breadstick Mir.

End of season party.

At some point, gang signs became our thing.

At nationals, being faux ghetto.
NORTH CAROLINAAAAAAA
C'mon and RAISE UP.

At nationals wearing the awesome sports bras our teammates made for us.

I choked during my races. She became an all-american steepler.

After dinner the first night @ nats.

We snuck out of the hotel and went to some bars the last night @ nats.

And had ourselves a damn good time.

Post-graduation vacation in Florida with Abby.

Guess who handles her liquor better.

Sunset last night of vacation.

Visiting her in Ft. Wayne over the summer.

We lost to Shay and Abby in pool, but we did better in the 5k that morning. Holding up how we placed.

Texas Roadhouse with Abby (and the team, during camp my second senior year)

Conference Banquet

At a meet at Butler.

LeAnn + Chris's rehearsal dinner.

XC Awards

Matt + Michelle's wedding last May.

Vintage Wine Fest last June

Lunch over the holidays.

So this picture. I posted it in an album on Facebook and wrote a caption about how it was me in the middle with a big old ghetto booty. However, Sarka swears that's her, not me. I still think she's the one with the short brown pony on the right but in any case the debate we had over it made me laugh until I cried.