ALBANY — On Day 1, everyone gets pneumonia.

That was the slogan for those who left their warm rooms to accompany Governor Spitzer on a brisk run in the freezing and drizzly pre-dawn hours of New Year’s Day.

The idea for the run was born out of an impromptu campaign promise made by Mr. Spitzer at a stop in Albany in September. Mr. Spitzer, an Upper East Side resident who regularly wakes at 5 a.m. for a jog around the Reservoir of Central Park, said he would run around Albany’s Washington Park on his first day as governor. He invited reporters and anybody else to join him.

For Mr. Spitzer, who is vowing to rouse New York from what he describes as the torpor of the Pataki years, the two-mile jog along the slick paths was meant to symbolize a new, Spartan energy in the executive.

Mr. Spitzer arrived at the historic Lake House promptly at 5:45 a.m., wreathed in a smile and wearing a New York Giants wool hat, a dark blue sweat shirt with the attorney general office’s seal, and sweat pants. Aides to the governor handed out bottles of water to the more than 200 people who showed up, along with T-shirts that read: “Day 1: Everything is Changing.”

“I appreciate your support, loyalty, and arguably bad judgment,” Mr. Spitzer said, standing next to Albany’s mayor, Jerry Jennings. Mr. Spitzer also brought along his 17-year-old daughter, Elyssa, a cross-country runner at Horace Mann School in Manhattan

The mood was bright, and a little surreal. “I’m here to the support the new governor and support good government, and show him we’re trying to support his initiative even when it’s a 6 a.m. run on a rainy morning,” an employee at the New York Civil Service Commission, Dan Healy, said.

Mr. Spitzer took off with a pack of about 100 runners behind him. The governor followed a figure-eight route, threading through 81 acres, past the Soldiers and Sailors Monument at the northern boulevard entrance and the Moses Fountain on the southern end.

It wasn’t clear who was setting the pace: the 47-year-old governor or the runners behind him, who were eager to prove their mettle. In either case, it was fast — very fast, somewhere between a brisk jog and a race. Clutching his gloves in tight fists, Mr. Spitzer ran with a loping stride, a wide swing of his arms, and a look of determination. Coming up to turns, he once or twice called out for directions. At least one member of his security detail ran with him, but Mr. Spitzer was part of the pack: If you didn’t know he was governor, you wouldn’t have guessed that he was anybody special.

Photographers sprinted ahead of him, while at least one reporter ran next to him to ask him such questions as, “Is this faster than your normal pace, governor?”

“Yeah, a little,” Mr. Spitzer said in between breaths. “Got the adrenaline.”

“How many hours of sleep did you get?”

“Three,” he responded.

With Mr. Spitzer leading the way, the front of the pack returned to the Lake House a little more than 13 minutes later, having completed a two-mile loop. Asked about the weather, Mr. Spitzer, who ran the New York City marathon in 1983 in less than four hours, vouched for the health benefits of running, even in the misty cold.

“When you run like this, you stay healthy,” Mr. Spitzer said. “If I run in the rain, it actually makes me better.”

The governor of New York then said he had to get back to work, and drove off in a tinted-window SUV.