It's the first time in recent memory he's looked tired.

The clock shows a quarter past seven on a Thursday evening, only ten days before the Prague International Marathon. The spacious PIM office in downtown Prague is still full of people. And the marathon's always energetic president, Carlo Capalbo, seems to be everywhere, as usual, barking various instructions in his tenor tremolo to staff while moving from one office to another.

Then he enters a conference room: "Ciao bello ... How are you? ... Jak se más?"

Whether tired or not, Carlo never gives up his trademark speech — a mixture of Italian, English and Czech.

He sits down at an oval table and puts a PIM leaflet in front oh him. There's something missing: his constantly ringing mobile phone.

"No one will disturb us today," he says with a smile. "I left the mobile in my car. ... That's it for today."

Running up the numbers

Over the past 12 years, talking to Carlo for 10 minutes has meant being interrupted by at least two phone calls and someone else approaching him in person.

Not this time, though.

"I put it in my car at four in the afternoon, after I answered perhaps the 50th call," he explains. "I was so tired, leaving the phone was rather a survival instinct."

"People are calling — this and that, motorbikes are not ready, krabice [boxes] for this thing are not available, etc."

Since 1994, Capalbo has been at the epicenter of Prague's annual marathon. As the event's founder and the chief organizer, Capalbo managed to develop it from an underrated race in which 7,000 runners took part in 1995 into a gigantic event that last year featured more than 22,000 runners. The number is expected to grow this year.

Perhaps it's not just exhaustion that's overwhelming the 48-year-old for a brief moment. It may also be the weight of responsibility.

"I move 25,000 people ... 25,000, do you understand?" he asks while wildly gesturing. "I don't understand it myself."

Idea over beer

As a well-established marketing executive, Capalbo took on the marathon almost by accident. And he credits a pint of beer.

On a spring Saturday in 1994, the Naples, Italy, native took his friend and marathon runner Gelindo Bordin to a local pub. Bordin had won the 1988 Olympic marathon in Seoul.

"Beer often helps release fantasies, and I got one when drinking with Gelindo," Capalbo recalls. "City marathons were very popular, but there was none in Prague."

Suddenly, Capalbo got his "crazy idea." Why not here? After all, the city had a rich tradition of hosting distance races. The marathon was established shortly afterwards.

"What fascinated me about city marathons was that they give joy to thousands of people and bring financial value to firms that back them," he reflects. "The key to launching PIM was to convince local officials."

Although trained in winning hearts and minds, Capalbo had virtually no experience with marathons, which are hugely popular in cities like New York and London. Though he'd played competitive volleyball and rugby in Italy, he'd only run in only two marathons himself before launching his Prague opus.

Nevertheless, he managed to raise some 22 million Kc to stage the 1995 men's and women's race, which drew 980 professional runners. About 7,000 amateurs ran in noncompetitive races scheduled around the main events. Capalbo admits he lost about 8 million Kc that year, but it didn't matter: He'd opened the door.

Today, the marathon is a soundly profitable event with the budget of some 35 million Kc ($1.6 million). In addition, PIM has spun off into a series of other competitive and noncompetitive races throughout the year.

Foolish project

In the mid-1990s, the idea of a marathon struck many officials, including those of the Czech Athletics Union (CAS), as crazy.

"I remember Carlo approaching us with his project," CAS chairman Karel Pilny´ recalls. "Many people thought his plans were a bit foolish, but he convinced them just with his enthusiasm and persuasiveness."

In contrast to many other entrepreneurs operating in Prague in that era, Capalbo's concern was not making a quick buck, but creating a successful, sustainable project.

"I come from an aristocratic family that never struggled with poverty," Capalbo says. "Also, I was a top executive of a major company. Money was not my driving force."

Power was, he now confesses — but not by the usual definition of the word.

"Power for me was to be able spread positive atmosphere among people and to make them love me," he says.

In order to be loved, Capalbo has developed the PIM into not just series of races throughout the year, but what is now a massive street party or, as he calls it, "a festival of sport, fun, music. You can see maminky [mothers], and babicky [grandmas] in the streets. ... It's really for everyone."

What's next

Despite visiting his home in Milan every month, Capalbo has evolved into a Czech patriot over his years in Prague — something that has proven essential in building the marathon into what it is today. The key to its success, he says, was to convince people that they are capable of organizing a world-class event.

"The Czechs sometimes don't believe in themselves," he says. "And so one of the greatest obstacles that I face with the marathon is to convince Czech people that they can do it!"

Suddenly, Capalbo is back to his animated self, plotting his next promo idea and arranging someone to cover his duties so he can get away to watch Italy play the Czechs Republic at the World Cup June 22. ("I support the Czechs in everything but football," he says. "When it comes to football, my heart beats for Italy.")

Wait a minute, wasn't this guy looking tired a few minutes ago?