Rose: Sophia, how did you do?
Sophia: Great. Easily a personal best.
Blanche: Oh, tell us what happened.
Sophia: It was electric. The starter fired his pistol into the air and, like a shot, I left half my competition in the dust.
Rose: You were that fast?
Sophia: No, it was the over-80s category. Most of them dropped from fright.
Rose: You're kidding.
Sophia: Please. There's a natural build to these kind of stories.
Rose: Sorry.
Sophia: So, finally, the race was underway. I start off slow. I'm cagey, like a panther. But when the time is right, I pounce. The crowd is on its feet. "Sophia. Sophia." My heart is pounding in my ears. But then again, it always pounds in my ears. I could see the finish line. It was only 200-300 yards away. And then it happened. What every runner dreads. I hit the wall.
Dorothy: Ma, you ran out of steam.
Sophia: No, I actually hit a wall. They put up a new Wendy's on Collins Avenue. From what they told me, I picked myself up, staggered over the finish line and collapsed. People are talking the covers of national magazines.