Rhea is a member of the DC Road Runners. She lives in Alexandria, VA.

I ran the 5th annual Go for the Gold 10K in Austin, TX on Saturday, March 11. I was in the Lone Star State on a business trip, and I decided to mix a little pleasure with work. Little did I know the pleasure would soon turn to pain. The night before the race, I slept fitfully, waking every two hours until my alarm buzzed at 5:45 AM. I dragged myself out of bed and poured a cup of coffee. The caffeine jolted me awake, but there was only the thinnest veneer of wakefulness over a thick layer of exhaustion. After a week of little sleep and a day spent flying halfway across the country, I was not in great shape to run. I felt as if a truck had run over me.

But, damn it, I was going to run this race. It would be a good training run for the National Marathon, I reasoned, which I was set to run two weeks later. It's just an issue of mind over matter. Right? Because I am strong! I am an Amazon! (Well, in the figurative sense, in the 5' 2" sense.) Because I am not a quitter! (Just a sleep-deprived run-ner.)

At the race start at Plaza Saltillo, a light rail station in Austin's east end, it was already 82 degrees at 7:00 am. And humid. I felt like I was slowly suffocating in a sauna. Sweat trickled down my neck, and dark clouds threatening rain cast a pall over the morning. My husband, Eric, who was also going to run, did not too look perky, either.

But none of the other runners, who were all from Austin or thereabouts, seemed to mind the sultry weather. About 430 runners ran the 10K, and up to 400 kids finished the 5K. Race proceeds benefited the Southwest Key East Aus-tin Community Development Project, a private, nonprofit agency that provides outreach services to high-risk youths and their families.

The race has become so popular that participation in both the 5K and 10K has doubled in the past two years, says Jill Nilson, Go for the Gold's race director. "We're the largest race on the east side of Austin, which is an overlooked part of the city," she said. "And that has made us stand out."

With 15 minutes until the starting gun, I jogged a three-block loop twice, stopping to stretch. The course wound south of downtown, in the city's lower-middle class Hispanic neighborhoods. With 10 minutes to go, the kids, dressed in shorts and orange t-shirts for the 5K, cheered wildly.

They were participants in "Born to Run," a Southwest Key- sponsored school fitness program that encourages them to exercise. The third through fifth-graders were mostly Latino, who tend to have a higher obesity rate than other Americans. Each of the students from five schools received a free pair of Fila running shoes and entry to the Go for the Gold 5K. They prepared for the race by running two or three times a week.

"This is a population that's overlooked, and this [program] is a boost to their self-esteem," Nilson says. "Their families are also getting involved, and they run with the kids."

I saw many parents there, smiling proudly at their daughters and sons. With five minutes to go, Eric and I lined up at the back of the pack. A horn blasted. We took off and I crossed the mats after 42 seconds.

I was caught in a big pack of folks who seemed to be jogging and chatting. I skirted the perimeter and sped past them, up a first small hill. No problem. Spectators were scarce. I saw one man in his front yard, but he was busy watering the lawn, and didn't look at us.

Two more hills materialized in the first two miles. They were big, the kind you had to lean into and pump your arms, lest you fall backwards. I overheard one woman say, "Oh my God, I'm exhausted."

I was feeling pretty good, but I knew I was going too fast. I averaged about 7:47 per mile those first three miles--speedy for me, especially in the heat. I flew down the hills, and almost fell once.

Here's where it becomes a cautionary tale, folks. I wasn't following my race strategy of even pacing at 7:55 per mile. I tried to slow down a bit so I could finish strong, but I had the ominous feeling it was too late. At Mile 4, I was still passing people, but tiring quickly. The heat was also making me wilt. Though I stopped once to grab a cup of water at one of the aid stations, I poured it over my head instead of drinking it. Dumb move.

I was also starting to run past many orange-shirted 5K kids, many of whom were walking. Walking! I wanted to goose them to get them moving faster. But my legs and arms felt leaden, my breathing was labored, and my mouth was parched. I was also light-headed.

When I reached the Mile 5 sign, I realized that I had slowed too much, to an 8:12 per mile average pace. One long-legged, iPod- wearing man I'd passed earlier cruised by me, and he looked back twice to see if I was gaining on him. I dearly wanted to pass his Lycra-clad butt. But I was exhausted. Going out too fast cost me.

Summoning my reserves, I picked up the pace. As I rounded the second to last corner, a kind soul looked at me and said, "Way to go! The finish line is 60 yards ahead!" I tried to quicken my lactic acid-shortened stride.

Pumping my arms, I crossed the finishing mats at 50:33, with an overall average pace of 8:08 per mile. Definitely not a PR. I heard the announcer call my name, but I was so tired, I couldn't even raise my head in acknowledgement. Eric, who I lost track of after the first half-mile, came in soon after me, with an average pace of 8:23 per mile.

We milled around the race area afterwards. I licked my wounds by listening to a mariachi band serenade us and other sweat-soaked runners, and nibbled on Austin-style post-race food: breakfast soft tacos.

Next year's Go for the Gold 10K will be on March 10. I know where I'm going to be. I just have to get some shut-eye before then.