The man with the bullhorn encouraged the runners as they made their way up the hill. “Two hours, fifteen minutes, forty seconds ...”His deep, loud voice boomed toward us.
It was mile 17 of the marathon.
“Hey, great stride!” a bearded viewer yelled to me. He clapped loudly. “You’re looking strong. Keep going—go, go, go!”
You bet I’m looking strong, I thought, as I followed my younger sister, Laura. I just got started. She had been diligently clocking eight-minute miles since the race had begun downtown. Initially in the middle of a pack, which was several thousand people, she had been steadily passing other runners for the past 10 miles or so. We were now on the relatively steep rise to the St. Cecelia Bridge. Once we crossed, we would begin heading back into town, running along the east side of the Rincon River. Laura had asked me to run the most difficult section of the marathon with her. Not having trained for anything more challenging than a quick walk, and with no experience running in organized events, I figured I might be good for two or three miles.
Up ahead, steel drums were playing. A group of drummers was beating their drums, chanting, and encouraging us with their music and smiles. Crossing the bridge, I recalled the advice in the Marathon Handbook. During my preview of the route, it had seemed like a babyish thing to do. But now it seemed like a fine idea, and I spat magnificently over the side of the bridge.
“I read the handbook, too!” said a woman behind me, who also let loose over the side of the bridge. We had now started a chain reaction of bridge spitters. It was quite a sight, but I had other things to occupy my attention, namely the back of Laura’s sweater.
Easing off the bridge, and heading south on Avila Boulevard, Laura and I found our pace together again. Here we could hang to the left of the group and enjoy some brief conversation. “You keeping up okay?” she asked. Being her older brother, and therefore unable to admit weakness, I nodded convincingly.
“Hey, Lee!” yelled a waving man on the sidewalk. Immediately pleased that my marathon efforts had been recognized by someone I knew, I waved back and reflected on the importance of wearing tie-dyed clothing to a road race of this size. It made it a lot easier to be spotted!
The town marathon is a “people’s” marathon in that it tends to be a family affair, with the runners and spectators creating a festival atmosphere. I managed to run six miles before bowing out, and Laura finished the entire race in under four hours. I now pride myself on telling people that I ran in a marathon. The distinction between having run a marathon and having run in a marathon seems unimportant. If pressed, however, I’ll admit that I only ran one-fourth of one.
Inspired by this year’s experience, I plan to walk the course--really fast--next year. It’s not because I’m jealous of my sister’s accomplishment. This is not some silly competition in which I must do whatever she does. Rather, Laura got free cookies at the finish line, and the promise of that will lead me to any goal.
Why did the author write this story________?

A．to explain how marathons are won

B．to tell about the history of marathons

C．to tell a story about a marathon experience

D．to show how difficult running in a marathon can be

Why was Lee glad he wore a tie-dyed shirt?

A．It helped people locate him easily.

B．The shirt brought him good luck.

C．It added to the festival atmosphere.

D．The shirt was a favorite of Laura’s.

Which of the following words best describes Laura as she is presented in this passage?

A．competitive

B．foolish

C．comical

D．carefree

The tone of this passage is best described as _______.

A．tense and anxious	B．light and friendly
C．matter-of-fact	D．uninterested and bored