My Manipulative Sister

Actually, I manipulated her, and now I have to eat it. You see, she was happily oblivious to the existence of the Winslow Half Marathon and 5k Run this September 17th, thinking instead of running this 10k race which goes back and forth three times over some bridge going from the mainland out to Galveston Island (Jen is a Houstoner and that's how Houstoners simulate hills, by running back and forth over bridges, you see.). It was me, actually, or I, who informed her of the race knowing she would not be able to resist running 13.1 miles of real-deal hills starting in the highest incorporated town in the State of Arkansas and going up from there. But for me, psychologically at least, it feels much different now that she has taken my bait than it did when I had merely cast it. The dread has become real! To understand why you need to know one more thing about my sister, to wit, she is tighter than bark on a tree. I'm loose with money and can piss away $40 at the drop of a hat on something I don't even want and will throw away in a week. I could pay a $40 entry for some half marathon, not show up for it, and not miss a beat. My sister, on the other hand, wouldn't pay $40 on her own wedding! I was shocked when she and her husband spent more than $40 for the house they live in. They are both math professors so no doubt they did some of that math professor math and determined that renting was costing them $40 rather than saving them money and it drove them so mad they had to buy a house. Anyway,my sister would absolutely die if she payed a $40 entry fee and then wasn't able to make it for some reason. So of course she emails me that she has already registered for $40 and also bought a round-trip plane ticket for about ten times that much, meaning that I am officially running a half marathon 61 days from now. To make it worse, she put a guilt trip on me already that the 10k in Galveston was one of a series of three races in an East Texas bridge running series and that she had run the other two already and wouldn't be able to get the commemorative T-shirt for running all three. Then my sister, who has never in my presence at least uttered a single swear word, admonishes me that I'd better not "puss out" on her. I'll be the first to tell you I'm not the alpha male, Joe Testosterone type--I never have been--but I don't particularly enjoy being called a pussy by my sister. So I guess it's on! My goal: three hours. Jen will probably bitch-slap the thing in about two hours which is perfect because then she can stake out some good seats for us at the Winfest show while I'm still puking down my shirt four miles from the finish line, which truth be told was my motivation for luring her up here in the first place, to have great seats for Winfest!

I can't wait to see my sister!