My Pace or Yours?

Not dark. All participants are 18+. No giant dicks or watermelon-sized tits, either.

My little sister is a runner. A very good runner. At 25 Karen was supported by a major shoe company to represent them. At 5'7" she had the perfect runner's body. Obviously slender, she carried at most 110 pounds on long, shapely legs. Light brown hair. Very fine and kept short. Round face with regular features but deep, deep blue eyes that see the world as competition. She was at the starting line and was going to kick the world's ass. She wouldn't be using her tits to break the tape, though, as she had at best an A-cup. Of course, as a distance runner she didn't need to carry any additional weight. She probably had 100% slow-twitch leg muscles; i.e., long distance optimized.

I love my sister with all my heart, in more ways than one, and had for as long as I can remember. We got along great with arguments along the lines of her wanting a runner's diet and me anything that provided calories. I'm quite different in body design. Obviously, since I'm male there are significant differences. At 28 I was older but not a lot wiser, as the saying goes. One big difference: I was 6'1" and easily 185. A sprinter with negligible slow-twitch fibers. More Goliath-like than my name of David. I played defensive back and was good enough to get a football scholarship to a division one school. Started in my senior year. I knew I wasn't good enough to play on Sunday (the pros), so joined the navy. Went to BUDS and became a SEAL. Much tougher than anything I had ever done but more rewarding.

Three years into my SEAL career I was riding shotgun in a recon vehicle when it took an RPG in the driver's side. My buddy, the driver, took the brunt of the explosion, saving my life as he lost his. I woke up two weeks later in Germany, my left side full of shrapnel, my left ear hearing almost gone (as well as a part of the ear) and damage to my left eye and one hell of a headache. My time as a SEAL was over. I got a Purple Heart, medical discharge, a 60% VA disability rating and not much future. Since my degree was criminal justice, it was about worthless as tits on a bull.

I was pretty sure that I couldn't pass any law enforcement physical, I decided to form my own security company. Provide security at concerts, events, ball games and celeb guarding. With a few of my ex-SEAL and special ops buddies we launched the company. It was rough the first year till we got a good reputation and then our work skyrocketed. It meant a lot of travel. It also meant there were times when I had really nothing to do and with a lot of frequent flyer miles to burn.

Since Karen was also traveling to races, we didn't get together a lot at home in Boulder. I figured what the hell, might as well see her race. Burned some frequent flyer miles to be at her next marathon.

Her eyes lit up when she saw me at the finish line. She jumped into my arms. "Dave, what are you doing here? I'm so happy to see. We don't see each other enough."

I said "Wanted to see you at your work site, so just jumped a plane. Great race. The first American woman and second woman overall."

She said there were so many Africans in the circuit that it was difficult to place in a big race. "I need to stay until late tomorrow. Can you stay, too? We can maybe go for a run tomorrow early?" Smiling.

"Sure. I don't need to leave today. What flight are you on tomorrow? My ticket is open return. Where are you staying?"

She gave me the flights and hotel, so I rebooked flights and hotel to match. We got together for dinner after she had the awards news conference. I was always fascinated about how much she could eat. She seemed to never get full. She'd out eat me and I'm a big guy. We ended early so we could get up early for our run.

Now, running with her was always problematic. While over the years my endurance running had greatly improved, I was no way close to her level. I could beat her easily in the 200m, quarter mile and not-so-easily in the mile but at 5 K and beyond, she left me in the dust. However, tomorrow was probably OK since she'd be sore from today's race. Normally, when we ran she kept just a half-step ahead of me. Any attempt to run alongside her was unconsciously interpreted as a challenge, resulting in her stepping up the pace. That would have been OK with one of her training partners, but my abundance of fast-twitch fiber dropped me out. She would look behind her, apologize and we'd resume. Shortly after, the same result. So, you see why running with her was a problem, regardless of how much I really wanted to be with her. Course, the one compensation was following her really nice rear end. I know she's my sister but I'm still a male and in love with more than just her ass.

We did go for a few miles before breakfast and it was easier but still I was hurting more than she was. Over breakfast she said "Dave, you need more distance training. You never know when you might need to run down a bad guy."

"Hah. Nice try but I don't chase "bad guys" for a living. Also remember I'm a disabled vet."

Didn't work. She showed no pity. "Bullshit. Don't be a big baby. We'll start your distance training when we get home."

Told you she was looking at the world, and me included, that way. We don't actually live in the same house. She has an apartment near the UC campus and I have a condo closer to NCAR. A few miles apart but not that far, even considering Boulder's traffic.

During the walk to our cars in the Denver Airport parking lot she said "What do you think about competing in the Iron Man Triathlon?"

I said "You'd probably do very well. You've got the running down pat and you've biked since we were kids. Go for it."

"OK, we got to get you up to speed in running, so we'll..."

Sudden stop: "Stop... Stop... What do you mean WE'LL? You're doing it, not me."

"What did you think I meant when I asked you about the Iron Man? Thought you understood we both were doing it."

"No fucking way. I've never run more than 10 miles. You expect me to run a marathon? And after all that swimming and biking?"

"Of course, we need to get you running marathons, so let's start your distance training in the morning. Be over at my place at 6. That's 0600 for you military types. Your first marathon should be in about three months."

All my groaning didn't sway her one little bit. My sister can be pretty stubborn. And persuasive to poor older brothers.

That was the start of us spending a lot of time together. She soon had me entered in 5, 10 Ks and a half-marathon. She kicked my ass in every one of them. I really didn't mind her beating me. Hell, she beat a whole lot of guys. Some would give me shit about being beaten by my little sister but it didn't bother me. She was a pro and I was at best half-assed.

Given her running schedule and my work schedule, it was actually four months before we found ourselves toeing the starting line of a marathon. Of course, she was up front with the elites and I was back in the middle of the slow-poke pack. I was really hurting at about mile 22 (Fuck you if you don't think the wall is real.) when she came jogging back from the finish to meet me. "Go away! Your face reminds me of how much more I've got to go."

"Too bad, Dave. Just grit it out. Think of SEAL training or think of your sister riding your sorry ass."

Merciless bitch. I'd kill her if I could catch her. HA! Fat chance. "OK I'm... puff... puff... still moving."

She did indeed stay just out of reach the whole way to the finish. Even when I was puking my guts out at mile 25. Have to say her giving me a great big hug at the end was worth it. She finished well more than an hour ahead of me but so what?

We started to add more biking and swimming. She didn't come close to me in the water. I was very much at home there. She also couldn't overcome my native strength on the bike. She was good but not as good as I was on the bike.

Now, getting into the Iron Man was difficult. There's no way I could get in by competition standing in other iron man races, because I didn't have any. She, on the other hand, would be a great entry as there aren't many Olympic-quality women interested and she'd really add to the competition. So, she worked a little blackmail: "I won't participate if my brother doesn't get in." Bingo!

So, off we go to Hawaii and the race. The water was pretty hectic for the first quarter mile. I was close to the front. The frantic mob of swimmers didn't bother me in the least. I finished in under an hour. Karen was about 15 minutes behind as we transitioned to the bikes. I kept that lead on her for the whole bike race. Sometime about 5 and a half hours. Then the agony started.

As I hit the 5-mile aid station in the run, Karen pulled in behind me. First I knew she was there was when she grabbed me in a big hug. I spun her around and started telling her to "Go! Go! Don't waste your time with me."

As she took off, I patted her on the butt and repeated the go message. She turned and gave me a quick look. Why had I patted her rear end? I've never done that before and she clearly didn't expect it. She didn't look offended, though.

Maybe I should say here that I have never seen Karen go out on a date. Never, not once. Now, there was a lot of time when I wasn't around, so she might have. She's never mentioned any dates nor any guys or gals that she's shown interest in. Pretty sure she was asexual. Didn't make any difference to me, I still love her. She's my sister and I try to protect her but not from her own decisions.

I just knew that no matter how much I loved her or if she loved me, we would never be "together".

She finished about two hours before me. Top ten. At least she had the decency to be tired enough not to jog back out to meet me. I'm really happy for her.

She now had the hardest task of her life: the Olympic Trials. I didn't see her as much as before the Iron Man. She needed high-intensity workouts, not the middling exercise I could offer her. We still ran when we happened to be in town together or occasionally at one of her races where my company was providing security. Sometime I'd just travel to one of her races to be with her. The closeness we had developed training for the Iron Man seemed to draw me more, so that I missed her when we were in different parts of the country. Or world, as she became more of a force in women's running. On my part, I continued to try to get better in the long distances. Not a whole lot of improvement as I just wasn't built for that environment.

When finally the trials arrived, my company was tasked with security of part of the trials. Took a lot of work to get that contract but we had been providing security for a lot of races, so we're well known. We provided security for everything outside of the stadium. This included the marathon, equestrian and water sports. While different events were located all over the country, this was a pocket of multiple events - kind of a small Olympic community.

Karen was so excited that she could hardly sit still on the plane to the site. I couldn't get her to calm down. "Dave, I've been dreaming of this so long that it doesn't seem that it's finally arrived."

"Karen, you earned it. I know you'll do well."

I was right. She placed third in the 10,000 m and got her place on the team. Now, the brass ring: the marathon!

Since I had to coordinate the security along the course I stayed at the outside gate where the marathon entered the stadium for the final 200 m to the finish. We had a feed from the cameras along the way so I could track her progress. She was doing great! She was in fourth place, just behind number three with less than a half mile to go. I knew she had the speed and guts to overtake before the stadium. Then disaster struck! A dog, a big German Shepard, broke loose from one of the spectators. It ran full tilt into Karen, striking her full at the knee of her right leg, just as she planted the leg. No human could've withstood the impact of a dog weighing more than herself. Just like that her knee bent sideways in a direction no knee should go. She toppled forward, trying to stop her fall, arms extended. When she hit the ground, she lay there for a second before screaming in pain and grabbing her knee. The number three woman looked back for an instant, almost going down herself. The other runners coming up behind were shocked beyond belief. Karen tried to stand, but couldn't. She was crying, screaming "Finish! Finish!" She even started to crawl but couldn't rise to her knees. Her right wrist was also not working. She then started crawling on her stomach!

I about exploded, seeing this on the feed! I took off sprinting past astonished women to get to her. She was still trying to move towards the finish. "Karen, Karen, stop moving. You'll hurt yourself more!"

It didn't seem to penetrate. She just kept trying to move. I just scooped her up and started running towards the stadium. "We'll finish, Karen. Please hold still so you don't do more damage."

We made it onto the track. The stadium went silent. Medics rushed towards us but I couldn't stop till we crossed the finish line.

As soon as we did, they grabbed her, rushed her into an ambulance and into emergency before I could collapse into a chair. Suddenly, I was surrounded by a host of TV cameras. Who was I? Why had I picked her up? Why didn't I give her over to the medical crew before we entered the stadium? A host of other inane questions were hurled my way. My only answer before I sprinted away was that she was my sister.

A couple of guys from my crew raced me to the hospital where I jumped out before we had come to a complete halt. The people at the emergency room desk had been watching the race on TV, so they knew who I was. A doctor took me into one the consult rooms. He explained that her ACL was torn and she would need surgery to fix it. Her right wrist was also badly sprained. Since I had her blood staining my arms and shirt, I figured she also had some cuts that needed attention. He explained that surgery could only take place 3-6 weeks later, after the swelling had gone down. For now they were just going to give her pain meds and wrapped her knee securely. Her right wrist was also wrapped. He said that her wrist needed rest as well as her knee. He said she'd have trouble doing a lot of things that she would normally do with her hand. I told him she was left handed, so that would be helpful.

Now we had a big problem: Since her right knee and her right wrist were damaged, she'd have a big problem using crutches. She couldn't put pressure on her wrist pushing down on the right crutch and you can't move your left leg without leaning on the right crutch, so it significantly reduced her mobility.

They finally let me in to see her. She was pretty much floating on the pain meds when I got into the room. Immediately, she started crying. Her tears flowing a river down her face. "I'm so sorry, Dave. I let you down."

"WHAT? You let ME down? What universe do you live in? That race was you. The trials. Your goal. It didn't have anything to do with me. I'm your cheering section."

She just looked at me and said "I also wanted it for you. I failed."

"You didn't fail. Nothing you could have done would make me less proud of you."

"Dave, I wanted to go to the Olympics both for me and for you. You've been everything for me. You're the big brother who means so much to me. You've done so many things. I wanted to do something that would make you see how much your support meant to me. I crave your admiration like it was some kind of drug. I wanted you as happy as I would be. I also don't know how I'll ever repay you for carrying me over the line."

I had a bit of trouble following her but chalked it up to the pain meds and the emotional rollercoaster of emotions. "Karen, no matter how well you do, I'm with you. If you win, I'm happy. If you don't, then I know you'll try again and will succeed. Please stop crying. Seeing you cry makes my heart ache."

She spent the night in the hospital, due mainly because of the pain meds.

With considerable difficulty, the next day we got home to Boulder. No problem on the plane as I got first class tickets so there was leg room. No way could she drive her car nor step up into my 4x4. We also couldn't make enough room in her car to be comfortable as a passenger. So, it was a long express van ride. Since her apartment had a lot of stairs, we agreed she would stay at my condo that only had three stairs to the front door. I easily carried her, her wheelchair and other gear into my condo. Being a bachelor who was seldom home, it wasn't cluttered with a bunch of junk. She had always complained that it didn't have enough furniture to even look lived it. That turned out to be an advantage as she could maneuver her wheelchair around easily. It would be at least four weeks before she could use her wrist enough make use of crutches or a cane.

Almost as soon as we walked in, her phone and mine started to ring. The film of her going down and me carrying her to the finish had gotten a lot of publicity. People wanted to interview us. My answer was universally "No", till Karen's sponsor called her. They thought it would be great publicity if we were interviewed, with her wearing the correct shirt. I'd of said no but she couldn't. That's how we ended up on TV for our 15 minutes of fame.

Surrounded by cameras and with microphones clipped to our shirts, they started asking questions. First, there were just ones about our backgrounds, then more focused. They asked her, stupidly in my opinion, how she felt missing out on the Olympics, especially since she had made the team in the 10 K. Of course, it hurt her to tell them how disappointed she was. Then they got to me. The interviewer said "I can understand why you ran out to her but why did you pick her and carry her to the finish?"

I looked at him as if he had three heads. "She wanted to cross the finish line, even though she was disqualified by me carrying her...I didn't for a moment consider NOT carrying her...Why would I? She's my sister and I was capable of carrying her, so I just didn't enter my mind not giving her what she asked for."

He asked again "You were a SEAL, right?"

"Yes. We don't leave anyone behind. Period."

Sorry that I wasn't the happiest interviewee they ever had, nor the most open. I thought them incredibly stupid and they thought me incredible hostile. Think we were both right.

Once that was concluded, we could get back to trying to make life for her as comfortable as possible. Lots of pain and adjustments. Even though her dominant hand was OK, so she could handle most things, it still left her unable to do simple things like open a bottle. She was also used to burning off 3-4000 calories every day, never missing a day of running in years. If she ate like that when she was laid up, she'd add 20 pounds that would need to be gotten rid of.

She was having trouble accepting the fact that she would need surgery in a few weeks and then probably 6-9 months to get back into heavy training. She was really depressed about that, though I kept telling her she was really young and still had the ability to make the Olympics in four-year's time.

It ate at me that she was so down. Tried everything to cheer her up. Fortunately, at this time most of my work with my company was arranging security jobs, not actually on site. I could do a lot online and over the phone. Not sure what she would have done if I had to disappear for an extended time. Not sure what I would have done, either. We just kept getting closer and closer.

After a few weeks, I passed her room one night, on my way to my room. She was crying. "Karen, can I come in?"

"Yes, of course."

"What's wrong? Do you need a pain pill (hope not)? Glass of water?"