Roger Handysides.

In 1974, as a 26-year-old Brit new to the States, Roger Handysides gained 15 pounds in six months under the onslaught of our all-you-can-eat culture laden with high-fat processed foods.

"That's when I first met Dunkin' Donuts," explains the professor of the School of Psychology at La Sierra University, Riverside, California. "We didn't have doughnut shops in England at that time. And the idea of going back and getting more food [after the first helping] was totally foreign to me."

While visiting American doughnut shops and buffets fattened him up fast, regularly running slowly slimmed him down--for good. What's more, this healthy habit ultimately fetched him more than fitness.

Handysides raised $4,000 for the London Multiple Sclerosis Society by running the London Marathon last April. He got involved through his sister, Cynthia Benz. Diagnosed with multiple sclerosis 20 years ago, she wrote "Coping With MS" in 1992. Both her diagnosis and her activism encouraged him to run the race for charity, despite his age and inexperience.

For instance, though Handysides had competed in plenty of 10Ks and triathlons to stay motivated during his past 24 years of running, he had never run a marathon's 26.2 miles. In fact, until race day, the 50-year-old had never exceeded 15 miles at a stretch.

To train, he bumped his weekly mileage from 25 to 40 miles. That preparation--combined with his routine of stretching, sit-ups, push-ups, and lightweight lifting--made the first 22 miles seem like a dream come true.

After all, he felt relaxed and strong alongside the approximately 33,000 other runners pounding past the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, and the Houses of Parliament toward the finish line at the sylvan fields of St. James Park. Then suddenly his legs tightened up, and the legendary race got gruelling.

"I was absolutely adamant that I wouldn't stop running," says Handysides in his soft accent and matter-of-fact manner. "It was just a mind-set that I was going to put one leg in front of the other."

Meanwhile, the final miles swelled with crowds of well-wishers. Their cheers, he continues, served both to encourage his flagging attitude and distract him from the stiffness threatening to lock up his legs.

When he at last crossed the finish line--in the top third and at his personal training goal of about four hours--friendly race volunteers flocked. In short order they draped a medal around his neck, snapped his photo, removed the computer-chip timer on his shoe, and wrapped him in a foil blanket before sending him to the recovery tent for refreshments and a massage.

A still-blackened toenail months later testifies to that day's physical toll. But Handysides may run the race again. Years of logging I00 miles a month make ramping up to it less intimidating. More important, though, he believes his fitness commitment helps him go the distance in life's daily hoopla-free areas.

"There's certainly a spiritual dimension to running," reflects Handysides, a man who sticks to dawn or dusk workouts. "It's a time to meditate--to think about my life and to talk to God. I find it more helpful than sitting down and doing something more formal."

Pam Mellskog writes on health topics from Boulder, Colorado.