Familia, Preguntas

Question of the week: Sibling influence

Last week during Jaime Hernandez’s talk, I started to think of how my own siblings, especially my older brother, Danny, had influenced me. Jaime is one of 5 children (4 boys). He said both of his older brothers had influenced him, but when it came to comics and writing it was mainly Gilbert. Jaime spoke of Gilbert with the kind of admiration you admit to strangers, but never to your own sibling.

I’ve done the same thing. I’m pretty sure I’ve written kinder words about Danny, Lori and Adrian here than I’ve ever told them. I’ve also never thanked them for unknowingly influencing my interests and habits.

Danny is about 20 months older than me, but because of his December birthday, he was only one grade ahead. Because of this, we were often enrolled in the same childhood activities like baseball, children’s choir and ballet folkórico together. I don’t remember choosing those things, but being a shy kid, I enjoyed them much more because Danny was there. I chose to be an altar server because Danny had been one for a few years before. Similarly, I picked trombone in 7th grade because my brother and cousin Robert both played. I likely would not have been in band if I didn’t know about Danny’s experiences his freshman year. I was a shy and bookish kid, but Danny was outgoing. He helped me come out of my shell.

Lori is the reason I’m running the LA Marathon. She’s the reason I took to running two years ago. I’d run before, but without Lori’s advice and her encouragement, I probably would’ve picked another activity for exercise. I cheered on Lori at her first half and full marathons. At the San Diego Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon in May ’09, I was at the finish line with her boyfriend at the time. I’m pretty sure I cried a little as she finished. I’m sure there are more ways she’s influenced me, but running is the first to come to mind.

Adrian and I share a lot in common (we’re both Virgos), but he’s also 5 years my junior and I’m less sure of how he’s influenced my interest. In writing this post, I could only think of Harry Potter and certain bands when it came to his influence. Maybe I’m not thinking hard enough, or maybe we’re already a lot alike.

La Pregunta: How have your interests or habits been influenced by a sibling?

Corriendo, Familia

Another Sunday, another long run

This morning, I ran 21 miles. Once again, I tagged along with students. This time it was the Mt Gleason Runners out in Sunland. The team’s coach, Craig Moss, put out an open invite on Twitter and I jumped at the chance. I’d had a great experience with the Hamilton HS runners, but they were doing 10 miles this weekend and my training plan called for more. I knew running with the MG Runners along a new route with support would be great motivation. And it was.

The MG Runners are a big group with several adult runners. For the majority of the run, I was near students (good since I’d lost my map and was unfamiliar with the area and course). The views of the snowy mountains of the Angeles National Forest were quite awesome; I wished I had my camera. Parents and volunteers manned 5 water stations with gummy worms, oranges, bananas, water and Gatorade (much better than my GU Chomps). One of the parents even brought an RV for her station at mile 13. Impressive.

In a short break between mile 17 and 18, a parent asked if I was one of the students’ parents. In between water and orange slices, I told her no and explained the Twitter open invite. I found the concept of being a middle school kid’s mother amusing until I realized I was old enough to have a 12-14 year old. I thanked her once again and continued on my run. Some students offered “good job!” as I passed them. Shortly after, I caught up to a man who said his son was running in his second marathon. He was training for his first. We chatted a little and then concentrated on the hills.

If I was a runner in middle or high school, I know my mom or dad would definitely be at a water station. My siblings and I were lucky enough to be involved in lots of activities as kids. My parents paid for us to participate in Little League and take other classes, they bought the necessary equipment (cleats for baseball and soccer, botas for ballet folkórico), drove us to all the practices/games/performances, and watched us play and perform. When we were in the high school band, they were active in the parent booster club. Dad helped set up for half-time and pre-game shows. Mom helped hem uniform pants and jackets. When our high school hosted a day-long band competition, they were out there all day. I took their presence and support for granted back then. I just assumed all parents gave up their Friday nights and Saturdays.

The parents out there this morning reminded me of my own awesome parents who are still the best support I could ask for*.

As for the run, I felt much better physically and mentally than I did two weeks ago for the 18-miler. I fueled much better today with Chomps (1 pack), gummy worms, orange slices, water and Gatorade. The ~20 degree difference in weather definitely helped too. I was also free of the self-doubt that hit me hard in the last few miles two weeks ago. During the tough part of the run today, I repeated my mantra (¡Sí se puede!) and concentrated on getting up the hill rather than wonder what I was doing training for a marathon. I finished in 3:40:56 (10:31 pace).

Many thanks to Craig Moss and the MG Runners. I look forward to seeing them in 28 days (!) running from the stadium to the sea.

[*Sean and Lori are great too. Sean had ice waiting for me when I got home. Ice baths used to sound so torturous, but now I look forward to them. Lori comes through with great advice, massages and discounts on athletic gear.]

Familia

The Snow

I decided a few minutes in to my long run on Sunday afternoon to go north so that I could begin the “out” portion of my out-and-back with the mountains in view. Due to all the rain in the last week, the mountains are capped with snow.

As I ran north along Azusa Boulevard and then west along Temple, I kept wanting to stop and take a crappy cell phone photo of one of my favorite views in LA. But I didn’t. I just stared at the San Gabriel and San Bernardino Mountains and zoned out.

I used to go up to Big Bear or Lake Arrowhead in the San Bernardino Mountains often. As a kid, I just called it The Snow as if it was a place. My parents would get together with their siblings or compadres and split the cost of a large cabin for the weekend. A whole bola of Mexicans would get cozy for the weekend. I loved it as it meant there were plenty of kids to play with and each night was like a slumber party. My family went once or twice a year, enough to warrant buying snow boots, ski suits (we didn’t ski) and sleds. I loved playing in the snow, especially sledding down a big hill. I was never as adventurous as Danny, who quickly earned the nickname Evel Knievel. We continued going to The Snow often as I got older. My parents had friends who owned cabins and would let us borrow them. Those trips were usually just immediate family, but still fun. In high school, I’d go to Lake Arrowhead for weekend retreats with the St John Vianney youth group. Most of those trips were in the spring or summer, but occasionally we’d go in the winter. If there was snow, we’d still make time to sled, snowboard and build snowmen.

I went up in college too, usually on MEChA retreats. On one retreat during winter quarter, it started to snow outside. My friends ran out to play in the snow, but I refused to go out. I was warm and comfortable inside and not dressed for snow. My friends didn’t care if they were in jeans and Chucks. They were too excited to play in the snow for the first time. I stayed on the couch and watched them played. They made snowballs and tossed them at each other just as I had when my parents first took me to The Snow as a little girl.

It’s been six years since my last trip to The Snow with extended family. There was no snow on the ground and rain kept us indoors. It was a great trip with lots of delicious food and laughter as we played games and watched movies.

I’m still waiting for a do over of that trip. With snow, of course.

Familia, Fotos

Christmas Past: Boys and their toys (1984)

¡Feliz Navidad!

I spent Nochebuena at home with my family. We ate delicious food then attempted to burn it off with playing Just Dance 2. There was lots of laughter, singing, adoration of the baby Jesus, and of course a visit from Santa.

***

I love this photo of Danny and our cousin, Agustin, for two reasons. First, they’re just cute and exuberant boys enjoying their new toys. It makes me miss the days when there were lots of kids tearing apart presents on Christmas eve. These days we’re all grown up and there are just a few small children.

Second, I can’t help but look at the photo and think politically. I can’t turn off being a Chicana even on Christmas. I think of it as a play on the concept of a reconquista. I bet the image of two small brown boys holding guns (one pointed at the photographer) is the kind that strikes fear in the hearts of those who favor SB 1070, oppose the DREAM Act, build walls along the US-Mexico border and deport us all.

Cultura, Familia

From Tepeyac to Hacienda Heights

I was raised to be a Guadalupana.

This happened long before my parents met at the youth group at Assumption Church. I’m pretty sure it was before Mamá Toni learned to pray the Rosary or Grandpa made dad and his siblings kneel down to pray the rosary every night.

But I don’t know that far back. I just know that my affinity for La Virgen is undoubtedly influenced by my elders. My parents and grandparents rise at dawn on el Día de la Virgen de Guadalupe (or the Sunday preceding the 12th of December) to go pray and sing Las Mañanitas with other devotees at church. Mom typically dresses up in traditional clothes. Dad always takes his guitar as he’s part of the church choir.

When I was a kid, I slept through the early morning prayers, but would not miss 8 a.m. mass and the subsequent party at our home parish, St. John Vianney. Like my mom, I’d dress up in traditional clothes for mass, which was packed more than usual with hundreds of Guadalupanos. The church might have been more full than on Easter Sunday. Mass on la Virgencita’s feast day was festive. A mariachi would come and play “Las Mañanitas” as well as other songs like “La Guadalupana” with the regular choir. Aztec dancers would offer up their dance in the aisles and at the foot of the sanctuary. Sometimes there was even a reenactment of the story of la Virgen’s apparition to Juan Diego. There was no way I would nod off with sleepiness on la Virgen’s feast day.

After Mass, we’d proceed to the party at the O’Callaghan Center for delicious food, more music from the mariachi and dancing with my folkórico group.

I’ll be up early with my parents and grandparents tomorrow.

I miss the celebration.

Lotería Chicana

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