They called themselves, "Malley's Marauders," named after the 1950s Roslyn High School track coach, Greg Mally. The team misspelled the coach's name, but if you ask them, that was their only error. In 1978, these runners enjoyed their short stint as 24-hour relay runners, and competed in an unforgettable race against their rival, neighboring team, Port Washington.

Malley's Marauders reunited after more than 25 years, on a recent Monday night at Il Sapore restaurant in Roslyn, to reminisce, honor and celebrate their running efforts of long ago. There was memorabilia, photos, an old Roslyn News article about the team, and even a long stretch of faded, yellowed register tape, indicating each runner's times. After talking to most of the teammates, I learned that they were not ordinary Sunday morning joggers at the high school track. The 10 Marauders ran one mile each, per hour, for 24 hours straight. While I am not a mathematician, I can figure out that each person ran on average, a six-minute mile. Twenty-four times!

Some might question why they would do such a thing; what was their motivation? After spending the evening listening to the former teammates describing their muscle memories of the sport, and the race in particular, I am no longer doubtful that it must have been an exhilarating experience.

The runners and invited guests had varying reasons for attending the reunion dinner. Some were saying a fond farewell to Stan Isaacs, a member of the Roslyn Relay Team, who will soon be moving with his wife Bobbi, to Pennsylvania to be closer to his children and grandchildren. In his words, the former Newsday sports editor and columnist, and longtime resident of Roslyn, was "honored to be there and to be part of the reason for the reunion."

Fred Klein, race organizer (and my father-in-law), said, "The essence of the beauty of Stan's involvement in the relay, is that he was not a competitive runner. Stan appreciated sport so much that he didn't quit (although the Port team did)."

Peter Romeo, a former Roslyn resident, had no involvement with the race or with any of the runners. In 1974, at the age of 16, Romeo had long been a fan of Isaac's sports column and developed an interest in journalism, much to the dismay of his parents. He recalled sending a letter to Isaacs, asking him to describe what life was like as a journalist. While not expecting much of a response, Romeo was astonished when his mom told him that Stan Isaacs was calling him on the telephone. He ultimately pursued a career in business journalism. Isaacs invited Romeo to attend the dinner. Romeo told me that, "Tonight is the first time that I am meeting Stan in person. I am here to wish him well."

One former relay runner, Steve Grossman, traveled two hours from Kingston, New York, to attend the dinner. Grossman said he made the trip because "my old friend, Fred Klein, asked me to attend." That was the simple response most runners cited as a reason for being there. Bob Archer, another longtime Roslyn resident, said "only Fred had the vision and heart to think of this bonding event."

Some of the diners were not part of the original team of 10. They were running pals, who would meet at Fred's house in Roslyn Estates every weekend to run together. Dick Adelman described the running craze of the 1970s, "we would run every morning, no matter the weather, five to ten miles, and then we would go off to work. It made us realize that there was nothing we couldn't handle at work."

Some of the runners cited competitive reasons for participating in the race. Not only were they competing against another team, but they were silently competing against each other (and against themselves) for the best time. Warren Mangan, who traveled from Westchester to attend the dinner, recalled handing off the baton each mile to Klein, the next consecutive runner. Mangan recalls that Klein, "would accept the baton at the last possible second in the relay handoff zone, lessening his own time, and thereby fueling the competition among the runners." Mangan went on to endearingly describe Klein as the "organizer of the absurd."

Maybe the idea of a 24-hour relay race is absurd (it evolved into a 12 hour relay race, which no longer exists). What I find perfectly sane, however, are the friendships and camaraderie that have been cultivated by running together for hours, while enduring and embracing the elements. I was asked to say a few words as the "fly on the wall" reporter in the room. My immediate response was, "I am jealous."

I had an idea to get this race going again, perhaps less intense, and possibly, to raise money for the school district. Are there any other runners listening out there?