I'm not sure why I didn't object when my husband boldly posted a training schedule on our refrigerator and announced that we were going to do a half-marathon. I was in the midst of my unemployment stint and deeply distressed. Either he believed that a goal would alleviate some of my misery or he was not-so-subtly recommending that I drop a few pounds. Regardless of his motivation, I agreed, and the next Monday we drove down to Bayshore to begin our training.
This article appears in Aug 12-18, 2009.