S. ran the five-miler with me and was key to my hot-to-trot time for the first mile. I wanted to catch up with him after my start-of-the-race bathroom stop. Still working on making peeing the last thing I do before the gun goes off. We were exhausted and hungry and in need of a plate of eggs so we went to Sarabeth’s. The place was packed with runners, plus us and K., who came down from Inwood and brought me S.’s mom’s sweatshirt, a sweet gift, both moving and necessary in the cold of our table by the window.