I rushed through my morning goodbyes to my husband, dropped the kids at their schools, and stepped on the accelerator. I screeched to a halt in front of a local restaurant, where my sister stood waiting. I was right on time.

Back in June, I made big plans to run a half-marathon on my birthday weekend, while my sister was running a marathon. We decided (well, she did) on a rugged trail marathon in Big Sur, California. I trained half-assedly for a month. She trained even when she had PMS.

I gave up on the idea after a solid week of painful shin splints that coincided with stomach cramps. Screw that.

I gave up. She ran anyway, and finished what sounds like a very punishing 26.2 mile run in something crazy like 5 hours and 20 odd minutes. As she sat across from me and sipped her tea, she smiled and announced that she's not even sore. And then she tossed me a t-shirt from the race.

I meant to run a half-marathon but discovered I was a wuss and I still got the t-shirt. I think I have a good scam going here.

This whole turning 34 thing has been relatively painless. I mean, okay... I'm still light years away from my weight loss goals... this isn't new. When I mentioned to my mom that I'm glad I'm using good moisturizer, she reminded me that the wrinkles are a-coming my way regardless. But for the most part, I've got nothing to complain about.

After we ate, we lingered over our mugs. She told me about the short, stocky female runners blowing past the big, buffed male runners. I silently plotted photoshopping myself into the background of some of the shots she has from the race. We laughed about some of the recent kid stuff. And suddenly, it was time to go.

I couldn't bear to race from the restaurant to the preschool, so we wandered into a costume shop. My sister made a bee-line for the Wonder Woman costumes. I stopped dead in my tracks when I found a "beer garden wench" costume.

Some of us are made for running up hills and saving the world. Some of us really enjoy hoisting large mugs. It's all so clear now.