6.2 in 62

Sixty-two is the magic number in more ways than I care to explain. I ran a 10k race this morning, the first in a long while. I finished in 62 minutes, which is slow for me, but I haven’t been running six days a week all summer. Golf, tennis and biking have become regular activities – all good, might I add. Running with about 400 others this morning on the bucolic roads of Brookville, Long Island felt great. The race was called Angels on the Bay – the Mary Napolitano Memorial Festival of Races and the post-race fare was catered by Russo’s on the Bay from Howard Beach. Breakfast and lunch were served simultaneously at 10 a.m. with bagels and pancakes, pizza, hamburgers and hot dogs. I heard a woman comment, “They have the best pizza in Ozone Park!” No doubt, but I didn’t sample it this morning. Guys and women all around me were devouring  cheeseburgers and hot dogs dripping with mustard. I wish I had  had my camera.  With distance running, you definitely work up an appetite, but a banana followed by a bagel, cream cheese and three bottles of cold water did it for me. I forgot how much fun races are. The “62” seemed to be some sort of sign, so I played that number in the New York lottery this afternoon.

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