Yesterday was the 31st running of the Austin Capitol 10,000 - more affectionately known as the "Cap 10K". We've run this a few times some years back, but then it started falling on NASCAR weekend when I was up in Ft. Worth. The stars have re-aligned and we began running again last year. This year's race didn't have the pomp and circumstance of last years "30th running", but it was still a good day to be out for a run with 17,000 of our closest friends.

The weather forecast was a complete guess by all the local weather bunnies, as usually is in spring in Texas. But before getting out of the truck at our parking spot I could have sworn I saw a little blue sky start to form, so I grabbed my sunglasses and slapped them on my cap, pretty much where they would stay for the race. I suppose I guess about as accurately as the "certified meteorologists" do.

The starting line chute is nicely segregated for the Cap 10K. Up front are the wheelchair atheletes, who start at 8:30. There were 4 entered in this years race. Next comes the elites, also known as the folks that get paid to run and workout. (How can I get THAT job?) Then the timed runners are queued next, according to their expected finish time. So C and I got to start fairly up front, which is nice to have a corral to stretch before the start, ahead of the "fun run" folks, who really had some cool costumes this year. All timed runners started the race at 8:45, and the fun run folks started 15 minutes later at 9:00.

It was gray and overcast and rained on us in the chute just before the race began. This was a nice touch to the already warm and humid morning. Brought that humidity right up to the 100% mark I suppose. But it didn't rain long, just enough to make the streets slick as black ice, and soak the runners. I pity the poor fools (said with Mr. T voice) who don't understand the concept of not wearing cotton t-shirts for a race. There were plenty of folks carrying a lot of extra weight for this years race.

Last year I took off like a rocket and burned out just as fast. This year I was pretty much dog-tired at the start of the race, and decided to run a more "intelligent race" to start. My goal was to maintain an 8:00/mile pace. The first mile directly towards the Capitol is a bit of a gradual climb. But not too bad. Perhaps it's not too bad because I know that as soon as you turn past the Capitol you have that nice steep little climb up San Jacinto to contend with. Due to the humid conditions I grab a quick water at stop 1, slug it down and take back off. I am doing a smart "barely sub 8:00 pace". Good so far. Mile 1.25 we turn onto 15th street. While everyone keys in on the hills to come, they forget there are a few rollers here on the backside of the Capitol to contend with too. By now I am staring at the ankles in front of me and slowly working my way through "traffic". My pace begins to come down as my heart rate begins to climb. My "smart race" is going by the wayside.

I am moving pretty good through the flat parts of 15th toward mile 3, and bring my pace closer to a 7:30 now. Perhaps this is because the steep downhill over Lamar Blvd gave me an opportunity to try some "outdoor speed skating" in order to stay upright. Normally I enjoy a nice downhill stretch, as my mantra "gravity is my friend" usually helps my overall pace. Yesterday this was a blind skid until the road turned back uphill. Then the next mile or so took away any momentum I had gained from my uncontrolled descent. A left-hand turn and another climb down towards "the rock" finally brings us past mile 4 and down to the loop around the Austin High School track along the side of the hike and bike trails. I hug the curbs here solely to take advantage of any sand and gravel that has been kicked out into the street. This is the only form of "traction" I'll have all morning.

We finally rurn onto Cesar Chavez Blvd right at mile 5. It begins to rain again, and rather than hitting the water stop across the road (note for those folks next year, it would be better to actually BE on the course) I decide to tilt my head back and catch rain drops on my tongue. Yes, I now look like a wet turkey running in a 10K. Hmm, I suppose I actually am at this point. Anyhow it works, and I manage to catch a little moisture to sustain me for the final mile. While in that final "ah ****, I'm close enough now not to be able to stop for a walk break" mode I hear Jen shout my name from the sidelines. Girl, you don't know how well that snapped me out of my daze and helped my finish! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I turn onto 1st street to cross the final bridge. A few folks pass me as we all begin to hear names being called out at the finish just around the corner at mile 6. Ah, but they spring too soon, and I pass them in the finishing chute for the final .2 miles. I am randomly picking off my next few victims when I make one final selection. I see a gal in front of me and think "I'll pass her soon too". So I push harder into my kick, and then the unthinkable happens. SHE SPEEDS UP! GAH! So, now I have to run even FASTER, and hadn't planned on this. But I do have just a little bit more in the tank, and really turn it on. One tenth of a mile to go and I am sprinting. I am all set to zig right and make my move as she runs out of gas and "slows down" and I plow into the back of her. "Oops, sorry - and I pass". Not exactly how I had envisioned this in my head, but I continue my sprint and finish only 5 seconds slower than last year.

So again, it was a tough, humid, wet morning for a race. I was pleased with my 7:43 pace, and "No" my sunglasses never came off the top of my head.

One final note, after C finishes we are both soaked to the bone. Yes, it rained on us again as we are gathering snacks after the run. So we cross the street to Dominican Joes for some coff-ay, and breakfast tacos to go. You should have seen the looks we received from the uh - "less dripping wet" patrons inside the coffee house. We are making puddles on the rustic wooden floor, and glass countertop, etc, and become quite the attraction from the yuppies, hippies, and student types sipping on their lattes while usurping free Wi-Fi for their laptops while seated on comfy cloth couches. We slog back out to the truck and head to the house. Life is good!

So I haven't done a lot of running in the month or so since the marathon. There was that whole "ouchy calf" incident, and I've been doing some cycling while trying to figure out what bike I want to buy. (btw - if you are in Austin and in need of bikes or other "Tri gear", definitely hit Jack & Adams. Those folks are great, extremely patient, and knowledgeable). But this past Saturday we had signed up for not one, but two back to back races.

The first race was the Daisy 5K. It's billed as the oldest 5K in Austin, but since we don't do a lot of 5K's I'll just take their word for it. Following the 5K is a little 2 mile race, the TNT (team in training) 2 Miler, which raises money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. A great cause! Both races started and finished on east 5th at San Marcos, making running both of them more convenient.

With no real training lately to speak of, C and I decided to take it easy on the 5K. She would test this theory first, as the women-folk got a 3 minute head start over the guys. Once we got underway, I found myself in a bit of a crowd and asking myself "Why do slower folks insist on starting up front?". Not that I'm fast, I was just faster than the folks in front of me. After some extensive zigging and zagging, I finally caught some "clean air" and was able to run straight for a change. I fell into a rhythm with the current folks around me and although I was breathing a little heavy, it seemed ok.

But then my arms started to tingle a little bit, and I just blamed it on my oatmeal burning off and my getting hungry again. I looked at my Garmin and saw that I was clipping right along at about a 6:08 min/mile pace. Yikes! No wonder my arms were tingling, I was going waaaaaay too fast! I determined to slow myself down, or die. Choosing the former, I backed off a touch just as the route took a right turn and headed . . . downhill. This downhill route lasted about 7 blocks or so thereby causing my "slowing down" to not really slow down all that much. By the time I hit the turnaround down by the lake I had only slowed to a 6:20 pace. Of course this was significantly slower than the little 10 year old blonde boy that chose the turnaround point to go blowing past me like I was standing still. (I think little kids should be forced to run with packs, since they just don't weigh enough on their own).

Heading back uphill now, my pace became almost more normal. But since I figured I had such a good first half I didn't want to blow it in the second. So I pushed it . . . a little bit. I came up behind C and told her "Happy Birthday' as this was indeed her special day, and then I gutted out my uphill climb. Finally I hit that left hand turn that signaled the final, somewhat long, straight away to the finish line. My chest was about to explode, so I gave into my desire to pull to the side and get 30 seconds of air. Drat! I could even see the finish line in the distance. No sooner did I take two steps than some (older?) guy runs past and says "Come on now, we're almost there". (!Chispas!) So my 30 second break turned into a 5 second break. I caught up to Mr. Peppy, who then challenged me to a sprint for the last 200 yards. I politely declined, stating if he would have just left me alone I would have been able to get my heart rate down to something below critical!

Anyhow, I let him go ahead of me as we saw the finish chute growing on the horizon. I pulled back behind him from time to time, but didn't have the legs to muster a pass. I was in quite the "spot of bother" for a lowly 5K. At last I looked up and saw the chute about 50 yards ahead. I also realized that I was roughly 10 feet off Mr. Peppy's right shoulder. So with a flick of my ankles, first my right and then my left, I whizzed on past the eternal optimist only slightly slower than a 10 year old kid wearing a pack. I cruised on into the finishing chute, declined a Daisy and opted for a bottle of sports drink. I exited quickly and found a railroad tie to collapse on and catch my breath. 16 ounces of sports drink later I was able to get back to the chute in time to see the birthday girl cross the line.

C's sister E was with there to cheer us on, although she missed my pass of Mr. Peppy, and we visited until the time came for the next race. The TNT 2 Miler was on the same route as the 5K, we were just to head down to the water stop at Mile 1, and turn around and run back. While some folks chose to make this a two mile sprint. I ran the two miles alongside my birthday girl, finishing hand-in-hand, just like we used to before I got all "whatever" (C's word, not mine) and started running like I could actually run fast. It was quite fun, and we helped out a great cause.

Since by now the weather was awesome, we hopped into a coffee shop on the corner, grabbed a couple of cups of java, and all three of us sat on the tailgate of my truckay to relax and chit - chat. What a great morning!

So this recent marathon was the fifth for my bride and I. For each preceding marathon, spread out across the past 7 years or so, we've adopted the following "recovery program". Stop running for about the next 6 months and then start from scratch in August. I'm quite sure that if you consult with folks "in the know" they'd probably disagree with this approach. I even disagree with it. In fact, even though we didn't run last year's marathon (we volunteered at the finish line) we managed to keep in shape by actually running throughout the year. A new Garmin 305 and iPod nano helped keep to an actual running program.

So this year was going to be different. M plus 6 days, also known as the Saturday after the marathon, C had to go to a class. It was a beautiful crisp morning in Austin, somewhere around 45 - 50 degrees at 8:00 am. I decided to go for a run. My legs were no longer sore, aided by that dip in Barton Springs last Sunday after the run, and a massage, and 6 days of rest. So I felt a nice easy run would be in order. I had never heard about this whole "Don't run for two weeks" thing. So I mapped out a nice 8 mile run on MapMyRun, and headed out the door.

The weather was so great that I wasn't really paying attention to my pace. Eventually I looked down at my 305 and saw I was clipping right along (slightly uphill) at around a 7:30/mi pace. Oh sure, I was breathing a little heavy, but I got quite the adrenaline boost by seeing that pace. NOTE: this is indeed fast for me, as my marathon, a PR, was just over my 8:30/mi training pace. So I continued on, gradually climbing the hilly neighborhood, cresting Convict Hill, and heading out for a nice downhill just past mile 2.

A funny thing happened to me on the way to mile 3, I began to feel a slight knot in the back of my right calf. GAH! What's with that? This is a downhill, its still cool outside, and I'm not even really breathing hard anymore. Why is my calf hurting? So I pulled off around mile 3 and proceeded to do a little stretching to help things out. Then I was back on my way.

I'll admit that when I run, even with my iPod playing, I spend a lot of time "in my head". So it's not really fun to run when I keep thinking "I wonder how bad my calf is gonna get" and "This really sucks". But at mile 4 I decided to take one more "stretch break" and then stick with my route and take the 1 mile loop around the park. There were folks with dogs, some other runners, and it was a great morning to be runnin through the shade from the trees. It was here that I began to "audible" my daily run route.

The exit from the park was across the street from another greenbelt that would eventually lead past the end of my street. So I abandoned any hope of doing 8 today, and proceeded on home. Of course once you fall for the "safety valve" your leg begins to feel better, but by now I was having visions of fresh coff-ay in my head and there was no turning back. I finished off with a run of about 5 1/2 miles with an 8:05 pace and a calf that would preclude me from running again any time soon.

Except that the next day I went down to Austin Fit for our final "group run" and we logged about 2 1/2 miles around Town Lake (Ok - Lady Bird Lake - whatever) and the whole time I was thinking "GAH! - What's with my leg".