the muscles you forget will bring you wincing to the ground

In rain, sleet or snow, I won't leave my race entry fee on the table.

Because by law, those elements will recede behind the sunshine once the run is done, as they did Saturday in Delaware County. With moisture ranging from clinging mist to a cold pounding drizzle, the runners received a bitter welcome from Mother Nature - but at least she said "Good-bye" well

Plotted on the flattest course I ever attempted (my second 5K, back in October), Lucky Run No. 13 doubled the distance, but good pacing and a lot of Gatorade at the water stations pulled me through without a side stitch to be found.

I passed the one-handed man at the turn-around point and never looked back. For most of the second half, I encountered no other runners. Both goals for the morning came through - 1.) Don't stop running without courting injury by continuing and 2.) finish in under an hour (I crossed the finish at 59:56, slightly worse than a nine-and-a-half minute mile).

Pacing got in the way; I think I could have ran closer to a nine-minute mile if I pushed it in the second half. Next time, with a little more seasoning and that knowledge, I should be able to find the nine-minute groove.

This first 10K did not leave me as a cripple; aside from the tender left calf that ached through the Dublin St. Pat's 5K (Run # 2 of 2), all the tweaks were minor affairs. Running 2 5Ks two hours apart was actually more stressful on the frame than running it all in one race.

On Sunday, after some initial soreness, those legs snapped back into shape - until I decided to join my friends on a bike ride along the Olentangy Trail.

Pumping my hardest, I outpaced my riding companions and completed some short intervals (less than a mile apiece). The rust came off quickly, and the pain waited for my return trip from their house.

Three-tenths of a mile uphill in Clintonville strained them far beyond expectations; as soon I reached the high ground cutting through the neighborhood, I stuck with it until the road dipped back into ravine territory.

Biking works the muscles differently - they all occurred in my legs, but the pains of Saturday and Sunday held little in common.

Why shove these two into the same post? I've been scouting the local event guides for a summertime duathalon (no swimming competitively for me, thanks). And both groups of muscles need to work through their respective pains if I attempt it.