Anne Mahlum can't count the times she has been called crazy.

Crazy for wanting to run marathons on every continent (five down, two to go), crazy for passing up a six-figure job to chase a seeming pipe dream and, oh yes, crazy for believing the homeless can be saved with sneakers.

"If you have an idea, and you can convey it with passion and confidence, people won't think it is so crazy," she said with a shrug.

Mahlum has nothing if not passion and confidence.

At 28, she has become an overnight star, having taken an improbable notion - that running can restore stability to homeless lives - and turning it into what is quickly becoming a national movement.

While much has been written about Mahlum's nonprofit, Back on My Feet (BOMF), coverage has largely focused on the unlikely juxtaposition of a young professional woman using jogging to aid the homeless.

Just as remarkable is the story behind her success.

In two years, Mahlum has built from scratch a nonprofit with a $1.5 million budget and chapters in Philadelphia and Baltimore with a third planned for Washington. It has 600 volunteers and more than 180 homeless clients. It has budgeted for 420 clients by year's end.

Mahlum has done it with no business background and a twenty-something's limited resumé.

"I think having been a waitress helped," she said last week. "You would have 25 people to take care of. You were always trying to anticipate their needs. You had to be always thinking about the timing of everything."

What is certain is she possesses a potent blend of innate gifts - drive, smarts, charm and pulchritude - that she has harnessed in pursuit of her unique vision.

"Anne is just great at connecting with people," said Zack Stalberg, president of the Committee of Seventy and Mahlum's former boss. "She has an almost gravitational pull that makes people want to ride along with her, whatever her idea or adventure."

In this case, it is the belief that a runner's discipline can encourage order and boost self-esteem, two big steps in moving any life forward.

Mahlum drew from her own experience. As a 16-year-old in Bismarck, N.D., she ran to burn off anger and shame that came when her mother tossed out her gambling-addicted father.

And she buried her frustrations in achievements.

"I was the girl with the five-year plan," she said. "You want me to finish school in four years, I'll do it in three. No problem. I was good at following the path that everybody expected from me. But, you know what, I was scared to do anything else."

That changed two years ago, when Mahlum, who has a degree in political communication from American University, was working for the Committee of Seventy and living around the corner from a homeless shelter. She saw her father in the men she passed on her daily runs, men with potential but in need of help.

Offered a high-paying job to handle government relations for Comcast, Mahlum, for the first time in her life, wavered and then took the path less traveled.

With her telegenic looks and marketing skills, she quickly drew attention. Her story was TV perfect: Cameron Diaz as Mother Teresa. She was named ABC's person of the week and was a finalist for CNN's heroes' award.

One viewer struck by her tale was Nick Ohnell, an entrepreneur turned philanthropist living in Greenwich, Conn.