Sisters in Stride
The sisters from Saugus, freshman Amber Murakami, left, and senior Shannon Murakami are two of the top runners on UCLA’s women’s cross country team.
By Andrew Moncada
Nov. 10, 2010 2:08 a.m.
From one perspective, the fastest way to understand Shannon and Amber Murakami would be to thumb through old Saugus High School yearbooks.
There, on glossy white pages, are blurbs and images of the two, no doubt crossing the finish line or holding first-place medals or embracing teammates.
Fathers would commend their athletic achievements, for bringing home a state cross country title. Mothers would commend their academic pursuits, for heading to UCLA.
Two talented siblings.
On a late Friday afternoon, Shannon and Amber, senior and freshman, sister and sister, eased their way onto a couple of chairs inside the JD Morgan Center and took a break from the sport they work so hard at and for which they are admired. The mental and physical toll of the season had been tough, but their improving results were satisfying, even though Shannon was experiencing an Achilles injury.
“If it hurts, it hurts,” Shannon said. “This is my last cross country season, and these girls are counting on me. I’m going to give it my all and let the chips fall where they may.”
Amber smiled. She was familiar with her older sister’s leadership, remarking that it was seeing her run while growing up which made her want to do cross country.
“I remember telling myself that she was really strong, really powerful, really in control of her races, and I wanted to do that,” Amber said.
For the sisters, their stories and their influences parallel more so than diverge. In truth, most of their lives have consisted of a series of could-have-beens. They could have chosen different sports; could have focused on soccer, but were better at running; could have been affected by Saugus High coach Rene Paragas’ teachings differently (“Oh Captain, My Captain,” Shannon said of him, in reference to one of her favorite movies “Dead Poet’s Society”); could have gone to different schools (the family joke was one could be a Bruin and the other a Trojan); could have been different people.
And yet, against odds and unlikely circumstances, here they were, even if it was against some people’s judgment.
“Our mom was a little nervous the year we were both at the same high school, thinking “˜This is going to be really great for them, or it’s going to be really bad and they’re going to hate each other,'” Shannon said with a laugh.
“But being on the same team back then brought us closer together,” the younger Murakami said. “We both had something to share, a passion for running. And now here, we’re still able to draw on that.”
And that sibling familiarity, banter and all, has latched on to the women’s team and created a close bond with all the runners. They spoke of a team meeting when everyone dressed in pajamas. They spoke of the runners as an extended family, not just teammates. Most of all, they spoke of their tough love.
“We like to joke about fights,” Amber said. “It helps ease the tension. I’ll walk by and say, “˜I hate you,’ and she gives ….”
“The feeling’s mutual,” Shannon said, cutting Amber off. “We always joke about it, but we’re really close. I would have her back no matter what.”
And as the sisterly verbal jabs went back and forth, a picture emerged beyond that of old yearbooks. Nestled warmly behind the nostalgia of middle school track races, hour-long drives to meets while listening to Rascal Flatts and pre-race burgers, were the memories of simply growing up ““ not just as family, but as people.
Every endearing “I hate you” was followed by laughter and stories, the delicate and precious moments of previous Halloweens (“You were Harry Potter, and I was Hermione. Do you remember that?” Shannon said), high school pranks (“We once put 600 Post-It notes on a friend’s car,” Amber said), gift exchanges (“We’re horrible at getting each other gifts,” Amber said), and their mutual dislike for “chick” flicks (instead going for “300,” “Public Enemies” and “Rebel Without a Cause”) ““ the memories that only they can share, that jostled and turned, careened and clamored, sprinting them toward the sum of their lives.
And as the day turned to night, as the lights inside the JD Morgan Center shut off, and as workers ended their shifts to go back home to their families, Shannon and Amber made no effort to move, comforted by knowing that they were already where they belonged, with one another.
“We’re always there for each other,” Shannon said. “I think that’s been our own sibling secret to success … I don’t hide anything from her, not only in cross country, but life in general. We know that no matter what happens, we’re going to remain close. Nothing will change that.”
But as much as these sisters have endured and grown, Shannon knows her time will soon be over, understanding that her collegiate running career is ending just when her sister’s is beginning. After all her years of running and competing in races, it was clear that each passing meet was one she could never again be a part of.
“Never settle,” she said to her sister. “It sounds so simple, but don’t be content, whether on the team or in life.
“It doesn’t matter what people say. Don’t settle for anything less than what you think you can do.”
This dedication, motivation and commitment have been the catalytic forces driving the women’s cross country team, forces that run as close as family.
“That’s what we want, that bond,” coach Forest Braden said. “It’s a lot better to win when you’re winning with people you care about.”
And so, whether while they’re out moving on the practice course or indulging in garlic rolls from Rattler’s or after another late-night phone call, the Murakami sisters may have visions of the future, predictions that, for the short time remaining, they can continue to go out there and find success together.
