Taylor is participating in Girls on the Run at Fletcher this fall, and last week, she ran a 5K. A 5K! That's the equivalent of a cross country meet, or the distance from my house to my parents' house, or 36 laps around the indoor track at the Y, which I frequent in the late fall and winter months (I only ran 30 tonight). In mid-December, Taylor, her running buddy (a Fletcher senior) and the rest of the Fletcher Girls on the Run team will run in the Jingle Jog in uptown Charlotte.

At this time last year, I was wrapping up training for the half-marathon that takes place on the same day as the Jingle Jog. That event represented a downgrade of sorts for me, as I had originally registered for the full marathon but pulled out due to a nagging foot injury. In the end, I wasn't able to run either one. When I started training for the full race in the summer of '07, I posted an entry here with the title "26.2." I still haven't run my 26.2, so Taylor's beat me to the punch. She took on a challenge and dared her disability to prevent her from achieving the goal. Sure, she runs with a sight buddy, but let's be honest--I run with the assistance of Coolmax and overpriced running shoes that I bought after doing a gait test at a running store--and I'm probably just like at least half the people who fought for position with me on the overcrowded track earlier this evening.

Sans $135 Asics, T will run in her first organized race next month at the age of 10. I wasn't running in races at 10, and though I'd started wearing thick glasses the year before, those worked just fine. In fact, I haven't run in a competitive race in my entire sighted life. Growing up, I was always too busy kicking around a soccer ball. Realistically, T can't play soccer, but she continues to break down barriers her disease throws at her and accomplishes things even many healthy kids--and adults--don't do everyday.

I passed on the marathon again this year. John and I will be in the Jingle Jog field, and once we've done our 3.1, we'll stand at the finish line with my parents and cheer for T. I'm so, so proud of her. On the way home from work tonight, I pulled up behind an SUV at a light. On the car's rear window were two stickers, each bearing a number: 26.2 and 13.1--representing, of course, the marathon and half-marathon. Those numbers are pretty cool for what they represent, but somehow, they're not as impressive as T's 3.1.

How many times have I talked about how my sister inspires me? She inspires me to be the best I can be; to be thankful for what I have; to save her life; to change the world.