Would-be marathoners compete for motivation

by Beth Teitell
Wednesday, April 10, 2002

Every year around this time, when the racers start appearing in town, all lithe and vibrant, I'm consumed with the same thought: I wish I were running the Boston Marathon.

But if there's one benefit to aging, it's knowing yourself, so this year no sooner had I said, ``I wish I were running,'' than I corrected myself: ``No, you wish you had run.''

I hated to admit it, but I was right. I wish I had the race behind me so I could show off without having to actually exert myself now. Twenty-six miles is a real shlep.

Still, there's something about the marathon that allows a person who doesn't jog, or even walk very far for that matter, to dream. To think, hey, that could be me!

And that's exactly the problem: It could be you.

Unlike many sports, gymnastics, say, or pairs skating, running is pretty much open to anyone. Though you never hear about a middle-age woman who looks in the mirror, decides she needs to do something about her thighs, and takes up the uneven bars or learns a triple lutz-triple toe loop combination, there really are people who go from zero to 26.2.

One day they're circling the mall parking lot hunting for the spot closest to the food-court entrance, the next they're rising at 6 a.m. and heading out in the rain for a two-hour run - cheerfully. They talk about ``hitting the wall,'' and they take pride in their blisters and black toenails.

``It's like they've had a religious experience,'' a non-running friend said, somewhat jealously.

We pondered what it would take to motivate us to run.

We ruled out love of the sport, health considerations or the clothing (which is a reason to play tennis or ski, but those skimpy running shorts and tops don't look good on anyone, not even real runners).

``Spite might do it for me,'' my friend said. ``I could make myself run 26 miles to prove something to an ex.''

The only thing she'd need, she added, would be a guarantee that her target would see her, as she stretched gracefully, or paraded around town in a Mylar cape (after brushing her hair and doing her makeup, of course).

I know many people run to raise money for charity, but I wondered how many ran to stick it to another person.

I called the Boston Athletic Association and spoke with Julia Beeson, the media coordinator. She had figures on how many lawyers and urban planners are running (667 and 17 respectively), but no stats on the number of grudge runners among the 16,638 registered participants.

It turns out the BAA doesn't collect data on many crucial things, including how many people run to burn calories. Beeson couldn't even tell me how many calories a runner burns during the race.

As someone who makes no decision without considering the caloric implications (whether to lift my child, how long to chew a stick of gum), I happen to know it's about 2,600 calories, or an entire day's worth of fun.

Hey - finally, a reason to run.