Couric does look great: a whole lot better than when she started on "Today" in 1990 at age 33. Back then she looked like a high-octane, rabbity gymnast; with her gummy grin and lesbian-soccer-mom haircut, she could have been airlifted straight out of the bulk paper goods aisle at Wal-Mart. America ate it up, and "Today's" ratings were lifted out of the karmic malaise that followed its 1989 ousting of beloved but long-in-the-tooth 39-year-old anchor Jane Pauley. With Couric, the show got its smart, femme-y mojo back, and Couric became better known and made more money. She also found herself single again in her mid-40s. And perhaps like at least some of her female viewers -- the ones who get richer and more confident, and go back on the market as they age -- Couric's look began to morph. As Forbes.com generously put it during her 2001 contract negotiations, she was looking "less wholesome ... [more] glamorous, sophisticated [with] sometimes even vampy hair, makeup and clothes." Most women don't employ trainers to keep their bodies taut and most do not get back on the dating horse with men like television producer (and Boston Red Sox co-owner) Tom Werner. But it was Couric's astounding ordinariness that fueled her success, and afforded her such extraordinary opportunities for aesthetic self-improvement.

It's important to remember that for female television personalities, personal maintenance is not simply a luxury. In November, the New York Times ran a piece about Campbell Brown, the 35-year-old tattooed "Weekend Today" co-anchor, that bore the headline "A Potential Contender in a Post-Couric Derby." It's not that Couric should fear ouster; she has publicly grumbled about the early hours, and NBC pays through the nose to keep her where she is. But the day that she does go is the day that her power is diminished, so as long as she's living by the alarm, Couric will probably keep dying on the treadmill monitored by High Voltage, the $7,500-a-week trainer at the center of Myrna Blyth's shot at Couric.

By phone, Blyth said that the press's emphasis on Voltage is a misrepresentation of her complaints about Couric (who claims she doesn't pay the reported $7,500). Blyth's real beef is that Couric uses her powerful pulpit to infuse her liberal politics into her broadcasts. "Since she is one of the most admired women in America, who happens to be marketed as your most sophisticated girlfriend," said Blyth, "she telegraphs her opinions to the women of America."

According to Blyth, Couric "is always approving of Hillary [Clinton]," she chooses to interview left-leaners like "Vagina Monologues" author Eve Ensler and Million Mom March founder Donna Dees-Thomases, while tangling on-air with Republicans like pundit Ann Coulter. Coulter and Couric engaged in a 12-minute hair-pull in 2001, when Coulter appeared on "Today" to promote her book "Slander," in which she accused Couric of being "the affable Eva Braun of morning television." When asked by e-mail why she thinks Couric has the influence she does, Coulter responded, "My old beagle would be an influential figure if he were given a morning TV show with millions of viewers. The difference is, he would use his position for good. He was a noble dog."

There is no better testament to Couric's perceived nobility or influence than the success of her campaign against colorectal cancer. On April 24, she will co-host the second "Hollywood Hits Broadway" fundraiser for the National Colorectal Cancer Research Alliance, which she co-founded in 2000 with fellow cancer widow Lilly Tartikoff (wife of late NBC president Brandon Tartikoff), and the Entertainment Industry Foundation. The first "Hollywood Hits Broadway" fundraiser raked in $5 million. According to press materials, since the founding of the NCCRA, the number of colonoscopy screenings has increased 20 percent, a spike that researchers at the University of Michigan have referred to as "the Couric Effect" -- a response to the televised probing of Couric's bowels in March of 2000. Proceeds from the April benefit will go to the Jay Monahan Center for Gastrointestinal Health at the New York Weill Cornell Medical Center, scheduled to open this month. Couric, who frequently uses "Today" airtime to talk about issues surrounding colorectal cancer, has said that one of her aims is to demystify the disease, which has a high cure rate if caught early.

"One thing I will say is that given that she's such a target, Katie Couric did a very clever thing by turning the fight against colorectal cancer into something that made her a more sympathetic figure," said Liz Smith. "I'm sure she would have rather had the husband than have had the excuse, but she used that very well and lots of people just adore her for it. You have to admire how she turned a horrible thing into a good image and something that helps people." While Smith's assessment is a compliment, it's a similar suggestion, voiced in Blyth's book, that has Couric and her supporters most distraught. When Larry King asked Couric about Blyth's assertion that her husband's death enhanced Couric's image, the "Today" host responded, "I loved Jay too much and feel too proud of the work I have done and the lives that have been saved to even dignify something that creepy with a comment."

Lisa Paulsen, the president of the Entertainment Industry Foundation with whom Couric co-founded the NCCRA, said of Couric's experiences with grief, "Katie's endured a lot and she manages to rise above so many challenging situations and identify ways she can be personally invested in improving people's lives." Couric's sister, Democratic Virginia state Sen. Emily Couric, succumbed to pancreatic cancer in 2001. "She made the decision to use her voice and her power and her ability to motivate individuals and corporations to generate millions of dollars to advance the science and awareness of this kind of cancer ... I wish I could launch a crusade in support of her," said Paulsen. She said that Queen of Mean stories are "disheartening to [Couric] and disheartening to those of us who work with her and know her." Paulsen described Couric, to whom she speaks weekly, as "brilliant, funny, committed, loyal, passionate, a team player, and generous to a fault," adding that she also happens to be "a smart, tough businesswoman" and that she has "never, ever seen her be disrespectful or dismissive."

That description contradicts the allegations in the Globe, and in Blyth's book, that Couric is referred to as "Katie Dearest" by her staff, that she runs through assistants, and makes "Today" peons cry. Though Couric and other "Today" players declined, through an NBC spokeswoman, to participate in this story, that spokeswoman, Lauren Kapp, passed along the following e-mail from a "Today" producer who she said wished to remain nameless. "What should be reported ... is how giving and nurturing Katie is to the staff of 'Today.' Whether you have a problem at work, a sick relative, a segment idea you want to discuss -- Katie keeps an open door with us and has always been there for staffers. Her hard work, dedication and drive -- that is often looked at as negative by the tabloids -- is a major reason 'Today' has been, is and will continue to be the #1 morning news show."

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