A Letter from a Best Friend
Today, Vicky, one of five of my dearest friends, turns 35. We first met in Prep and then became the best of friends in the 3rd Grade.
– Costume party at Vicky’s house. She’s in a pretty princess outfit. My brothers had the wonderful idea of dressing me up as a…golfer. I’m right beside Vicky –
We grew up together, like sisters, experiencing everything the world had to offer. We slept over each others’ homes almost every weekend practically all throughout gradeschool through highschool. Over the years, we got chased by dogs and nuns and then boys (yes, in that order) and always managed to laugh about each experience. We exchanged Nintendo games, diet tips, CDs, exercise tapes (we love you, Jane Fonda!), clothes, and even a boyfriend once (ack!). You name it, we shared it.
– One of our biggest adventures together: After graduating from highschool, Vicky and I got on a ferry to Iloilo to teach catechism –
Through the years, we’ve been there for each other for every major milestone in our lives: graduation, college entrance results, first jobs, weddings, childrens’ baptism, and our father’s deaths. When I started running and this blog, I would talk to Vicky about it and, although she didn’t run (she’s a treadmill walker), she showed her support just by listening.
– College 1993 –
Last week, as I was cleaning my Inbox, I realized that I had missed out on tons of email while I was in the U.S. One of them was a letter from Vicky. It turns out that she wrote me a pre-NYC marathon letter (just like the way we used to write each other palancas before retreats!) Even if I failed to read it before New York, it still means the world to me and brought me close to tears. It’s something I can always draw inspiration from when the going gets tough in future marathons.
Here goes:
“Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” – John Locke, TV Series “Lost”
Dear Jaymie,
Well, you’ve certainly come a long long way from running away from an overweight pug, running away from the make believe ghosts of the bathrooms of Assumption, Antipolo, and running away from all the lunatic guys who pursued you in the past.
You are my closest friend, we’ve known each other for more than half our lives, and I would be remiss if I didn’t write you a little something right before what I recall you used to say was your dream when you decided some time back to start running marathons.
As I reflect now on how close you are to achieving yet another one of your greatest dreams, I can’t help but juxtapose how the determination you’ve had to get to where you are is something that the five of us have shown in each of our lives, in each of our own ways, to attain each and every one of our individual dreams.
Our spirits are indomitable.
So as you run the NYC Marathon, this is my wish for you… that all the collective achievements of our group, all the fruits of our perseverance, give you strength and push you all the way to the finish line.
Someday, I’m going to tell my daughter that her mom’s closest friend literally ran toward her dream.
And just kept on running after she reached it.
I am so proud of you.
Vicky
Happy Birthday, Kampups! Love you!
