Another 1st-Time Marathoner Joins Hopkinton Patch

Hello, and welcome to my inaugural column here at the Hopkinton Patch.  

In just 50 short days (yikes--50 short days!) I will be one of 25,000 singlet-clad guests descending upon your town. Yep, I am tickled pink (make that tickled blue and gold) to be a numbered runner in the 115^th Boston Marathon.

Now, before you go thinking I’m one of those “real” runners (you know, the ones who actually qualify to run Boston by clocking some insanely speedy time on a 26.2-mile course in Hartford or Chicago or New York City) stop.

Truth be told I am a charity runner making her 26.2 debut on the Children’s Hospital / Miles for Miracles team. When I started this insanity, the longest I had run in my adult life was six, maybe eight miles. 

I called myself a Cardio Queen—most days I reigned supreme on the first elliptical on the left, back row, at Wayside Swim and Racquetball Club in my hometown of Marlborough.

My trek to Hopkinton’s start line started back in September.   It was clear that the summer was uttering its last hurrah here in the greater-Boston area and I was wrapping up my very first season of competing in triathlons.

I signed up for my first one on a lark, telling the organizer I was in pretty good shape for a chick with a desk job but that I had no clue whether I could actually finish a .33-mile swim and a 15-mile bike ride chased down with a 3.2-mile run.

 As it turned out not only could I finish this race called a sprint tri, but I could do pretty darn well—much to my surprise I even took first place in my age group at the Title 9 Sprint Triathlon in Hopkinton State Park. 

(EDITOR'S NOTE: If you're interested in the 2011 Title 9  Women Only Sprint Triathlon at Hopkinton State Park, click here. Date is Sept. 11.)

All this was a huge confidence boost to the about-to-turn-40-year-old me and also a hugely welcome distraction to this single mother of two coming off what we’ll just call a pretty tough three-year stretch.

Triathloning had given my lifelong love of exercise a purpose, and had transformed me from Cardio Queen to full-tilt competitor.  My newly procured wetsuit buoyed me through not just open-water swims but through life itself; the season’s end loomed large. 

Hibernation may be healthy for other mammals but not this one. How would I prevent myself from being buried alive under a thousand, a million snowflakes?

Then one day Eleanor Roosevelt answered that question for me with a challenge.  

"Do the thing that scares you," I heard her say.  (She sometimes speaks to me, Eleanor does. Yes, I know she’s dead.) 

“What scares you, CJ?” Eleanor asked.  “The Boston Marathon—that scares me,” I replied. (No, I did not reply out loud—I’m not that crazy.)

The Boston Marathon.  I wasn’t sure how I’d get there, but I knew I needed to.

And so I set my sights on your glorious start line. While family members urged me to be a “bandit," and run numberless if I really thought I needed to do this, I would not accept bandit-dom. 

Run without being welcome and wanted? No, not me.  So my search was on for charity teams who might take me in, give me a number and a new impossible challenge.  Since both of my girls had been treated for years at Children’s Hospital for non-life-threatening but nevertheless scary conditions, that team seemed to me a perfect fit. 

Good news for me: the folks at Children’s agreed and signed me on.

So, for the next 50 days I’ll keep you posted on my trek to Ash Street.   Should you be interested, you can catch up on my trials and tribulations from my acceptance on Oct. 18^th to present via my own blog, http://irunlikeagrl.wordpress.com/ .

Well, I must dash now.  I’ve a dozen training miles to run and time it is a-wasting. Until next time ... Enjoy your day!

- Christine Johansen