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I ran my first half-marathon (13.1 miles) on March 19 and I finished before they stopped timing (you have 3 hours and then they stop). It was a beautiful day�the race started at the boardwalk at Brighton Beach/Coney Island and the sun was strong and the sea looked serene. I ran the first 9 miles (the boardwalk and Ocean Parkway, which was closed to traffic) with S and her friend, Pip, from Angleterre (as he says).

Around mile 9, at the entrance to Prospect Park, they sped up and I was alone. Well, not totally alone because the park was full of non-racers doing their thing. Just before mile 10 I glanced down and started to lose faith in my ability to complete the race�a woman who looked like she had finished the race saw me and told me I could do it��JUST KEEP GOING,� she advised. I thanked her, and a few steps later I heard someone call my name�R!! I looked and my massage therapist, S., who�s a triathlete and my chiropractor, D., who had just started a beginner running program, fell in step beside me.

They both ran with me up �the hill� as my fan club (4 of my friends) started cheering and yelling for me. D left the park just after the hill but S ran with me to the finish. When I took out my lipstick in anticipation of picture-taking she looked so disgusted with me that I was afraid that she might leave the park right then (I was also wearing earrings).

But running with S was fabulous�she was pacing me perfectly, running just a half-step ahead of me. And about 100 yards from the finish, I started to pick up speed (S said, �are you trying to lose me?�) and S and my two coaches, JC and SN came from behind the finish line to run the last 10 feet with me. It was amazing. I was euphoric. And then I ate. Eating rules. And no injuries have surfaced�so far.

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