There was some good sports watching last weekend -- Quarters 1, 2, and 4 of the Vikes-Packers, Innings 4, 7, and 8 of the Phils-Yankees, and the entire Eagles-Giants match-up. But it wasn’t those games that had me glued to my TV. I became mildly obsessed with watching the New York City Marathon. Honestly, I could watch marathons all day. Aren’t I fun?

My friend, Chris, ran the NYC Marathon this year. He was gunning for my time so I tracked him on the computer along the way to see if he could beat me. He pulled out a 3:33:55. Phew! I’m still 19 seconds faster.



Chris starting struggling around mile 22, but said he kicked it back into high gear with a sprint at the finish. He wanted to join the 3:33 Gang. Congrats, my friend. You rocked it. You’re in the Club. And, if I’m really going to be honest, Chris is probably faster than the 3:33 Gang. With all of those bridges, NYC is arguably tougher than Twin Cities and he’d likely beat me in a fair fight. I’m just going to go ahead and call this one a draw. Woo-hoo!

Mom... don’t read this next part... but Chris inspired me to starting thinking about running NYC next year. Then, the thought of Joy Johnson made me sign up for the lottery this morning.

I met Joy two years ago when I did a story about Dick Beardsley’s Marathon Camp up in Northern Minnesota. She was 80 years old at the time and training for her 20th NYC marathon. No offense to the other campers, but Joy was my favorite. She was full of spunk, quick with the one-liners and could run a mean 26 miles. She’s what I aspire to be to 40, much less 80.


Well, on Monday morning, I saw Joy in the crowd at the Today Show. She told Al Roker that she had run her 22nd marathon at age 82. She was the same Joy I remember from two years ago -- those same legs, that wide smile, the contagious laugh. I thought, heck, if Joy can run 22 marathons at 82, I can certainly run another one at 33. So, watch out, Big Apple, here I come! I hope.

Yes, Karen, I did just write this blog. Are you with me?