Bozeman Half Marathon Recap

 A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 19; 2nd Edition
13.1 miles run in 2025 races
Race: Bozeman Half Marathon
Place: Bozeman, MT
Miles from home: 976 miles
Weather: 58 degrees, 55% humidity

I once said in either a race report on this website or in a comment to something on social media that just because I am rationally aware of what is likely possible in a race doesn't mean that I still won't be disappointed when I don't do better than that.

That more or less sums up my race experience at the Bozeman half marathon for those who want the too long didn't read version. The longer version is that 77 days since I ran my first mile after basically 16 months of knee surgeries and recoveries, I was hoping for a little bit faster of a time then what I was able to leave on the racecourse.

But the fact remains here at the jump is that the most important aspect is regardless of how slow I ran this race and how factors such as running at elevation, a far more humid than expected temperature, and simply being massively out of running shape, is that the only thing really sore or achy on my body are my muscles. My restructured knee is, for all intents and purposes at this juncture, working just fine. In fact, throughout the race yesterday it is hard for me to pinpoint a single time in which I thought about my knee or had it dictate my running. And that is a huge win.

When I was putting together my upcoming race schedule as I attempt to run a marathon and a half marathon in every state before my 50th birthday on May 31st of next year I started looking at my spreadsheets of all my running data. Doing so was when I noticed that if everything goes according to plan there will be 10 states where I have only run one marathon and 1/2 marathon within their boundaries. One of those was going to be in the state of Montana, dubbing little deeper I noticed that three states will have only one half marathon and a marathon in them and coincidentally enough both those races will be within the same city. As you can probably surmise, Bozeman MT is one of those three.

I was here in Bozeman for the now defunct Lewis and Clark marathon in 2010. It's easy for me to recall this because this was a stretch of marathons where in five straight I did not run a Boston qualifying time. Other than the first 35 marathons of the 52 I ran in a row in 2006, I have never had a longer streak of five marathons where I didn't qualify for Boston. The caveat I will add for the Lewis and Clark Marathon in Bozeman is that I ran a good 2miles off the course and easily would have qualified for Boston on that day. But it always has stuck with me those five tough marathons in a row.  (Another interesting fact is that once there were three Lewis and Clark Marathons in the US. The one in Bozeman, the Siouxland Lewis & Clark Marathon in Iowa that was last run in 2011, and the race of the same name which was bought and rebranded by the Rock N Roll Marathon series and then shrunk to only a half marathon in the 20teens at some point. I thought I would run them all someday but never got the chance.)

So I arrived in Bozeman, a little wary of the elevation change for me, quite out of shape right now, but looking forward to the low humidity and clean air of the mountains. Then wildfires happened and a little bit of rain making the AQI over 100 and the humidity in the 55% range at the start of the race. Bollocks.

Race Morning:

One thing I do not miss about living and racing in the mountain states is that point-to-point races. (Such a weird name that runners understand but the moment you think about it makes no sense.  All races are point to point.) Actually, it isn’t the P2P part I mind as much as the inevitable 5 am or earlier wake up call to board the buses to get to the starting line, usually high up in the mountains somewhere.

As I boarded the bus at 6:30 for an 8 a.m. I realized that we were likely going to be just standing out in the middle of nowhere for an hour or more. Fortunately the temperature wasn’t too chilly (like around 52 or so where we were) and it wasn’t raining yet. I bided my time by getting into the bathroom line, sitting on a dirt pile, getting into the bathroom line again, walking onto the course and away from most people to use the bathroom a third time and finally, start heading to the starting line. Then it started to drizzle.

Nothing too bad but just enough to make my shirt wet, something I need absolutely zero assistance with.  Doesn’t matter how dry it is, my sweat will do that just fine.  I was nervous. Anxious. I had trepidation.  Can’t say I was excited. I had no idea how this race was going to go, it truly is no fun for me to race when I am nowhere close to my peak, and at that time, regardless of how grateful I was to be able to run, I really just wanted it over.  I tried to shake that malaise and get my mind set. There was 13.1 mile of running to do.

First Three Miles:

I knew the first mile would be the fastest of the whole course not only because of the near impossibility of holding oneself in check at the start of the race but because it was the steepest downhill of the course.  Nevertheless, I tried my absolute best to not sprint off the block. What was insane to me was not even a quarter of a mile into the race and the leader was already so far ahead of me it was as if we were in different races. Then I saw I did my first mile 6:58, well below my low-wend goal of sub-8 miles for the day. I figured first place had to be running around an even five minutes per. (He finished at 5:02.  Good eye, Dane!)

The GPS on my watch did not beep until another good 12 seconds past the mile marker, which was nothing new for me. Routinely, my watch undercuts me in distance, so I paid it no heed.  Often, as I have said many times, as mile markers are not certified, even if it is way off on one mile, it will work itself out over the next few.  However, here, today, as I ran on, mile after mile remained the same. Even with a major slowdown over the next two miles, where a few uphills were introduced, I was on pace for a 1:40-1:41 day. My "A" goal for the day was to run a sub 1:40, which, under normal circumstances, would have been a colossal failure. Of the previous 124 half marathon I have run, only 9 had been over 1:40. But today that would have left me elated.

To Mile Six:

After dealing with the hill a little after the third mile, I knew we had another one around 7 miles, 9 miles, and at the 11^th mile. After a Yay!-inducing 7:35 mile at 4, I followed that up with a couple of 7:5xs for the next two.  Not great but not horrible. Another decent mile showed me at four miles in I was still on a 1:41 pace. 

The rain had long since stopped but it was definitely a humid day for Montana. I had settled into a spot where I wasn’t passing much of anyone, but most people in front of me were staying where they were as well. Occasionally, a runner would pass me and I would use their energy to pull me along for a minute or so but mostly I was trying to run all from within and not worry about place.

The were a smattering of spectators here and there but for all intents and purposes this was just a large group run. Lovely day with the o=mountains in the background and a quiet road. I felt good and thought maybe I could pick it up over the last few miles when I got there.

Onward to Mile 10:

The mile leading to seven was different form the rest of the race so far. I have never been good at uphill miles and this new knee hasn’t suddenly improved on that. About four or five runners slid by me on this long gradual uphill to mile seven, but I wasn’t too bothered. I didn’t like the 8:24 I ran but I wasn’t too worried. After the turn and the crest of the hill, we had an almost exactly two-mile-long straightaway.  This falls right into my wheelhouse. I don’t know why I like seeing what is in store far ahead as I know other runners differ. But knowing I can just left-right-repeat and not think always makes me happy. Two sub-8 minute miles reflected that as we approached the hill at mile nine right on schedule.

Even with the uphill, and because of the downhill on the other side, I still ran a 8:02 and was feeling pretty darn good. I laughed at well-meaning spectators who said “Just a 5k to go!” (she was too short) and “Four more miles!” (she was located AFTER the "just a 5k to go" woman.) I appreciated their enthusiasm, regardless. I implored the crowd to do the wave with me and he obliged.

Then there was another unexpected hill right before the tenth mile and something about its unknown presence really slowed me down. My energy began to ebb. I knew it was just 3 more miles and two of it was downhill but I was tired.

To the Finish:

We finished that hill and serpentined our way through a little suburb community. I, as always, ran the tangents and also as always, shook my head at the people who would hug the curbs and run so much further than they had to. But even doing that wasn’t helping my time as my mile crept up over 8:10.

Then the big hill right before 11 loomed. I couldn’t help it. About halfway up I just had to walk for about 20 seconds.  It stinks to lose that time but after the walk break, I was soon in the back pocket of all the people who had passed me. To me, it was worth the “rest” and even with a horrible 8:40 mile, I knew I still had plenty of time to still get into the 1:41-1:42 range.

With just two miles left I started doing some math. On Friday night I had done a shakeout run with the running store who sponsors the race. We ran the last 1.3 miles of the course that day, so I knew exactly where we were when we hit it.  And suddenly, my watch which had been WAY longer than the course, was suddenly spot on. Damn it. The course, which had been shorter than my watch, suddenly was getting longer. Like when the Council of Trent in 1582 decreed the pope switch calendars, and to make it work, 10 days just disappeared, I was suddenly just getting minutes added to my time. (It ended up being 13.17 which isn't super long but the last 1 mile was definitely 1.2. Oh well.)

I dug deep and ran an 8:04 and then a 7:48 but it was clear all my goals were going to be missed for the day. Turning on to the final straight stretch, I had to run the final four blocks in 1:20 to get under 1:44 and that was just not going to happen. I slowed my pace and just started to mail it in.

However, as I got closer, I saw that if I picked it up I could still get under 1:45 which would at least be a small victory. It is so funny to me when you see my pace drop down and then go through the roof in the last little bit here because you can almost see my thought process.  “Well, this isn’t worth it.  Wait.  There
still something I can shoot for!”

I got it in under the wire with a 1:44:57 which is a seven minute improvement on my half-marathon from 6 weeks ago. That was good enough for 133^rd overall. My 122^nd (out of 125) slowest half marathon is still a new knee half marathon personal best. The secret is to run really slow at first so you have lots of time to knock off!

So not the showing I was hoping for. However, I know the most important thing is that my knee worked fine.  It is a little sore today. I am creaky overall. But if I am simply out of shape and still running myself back into it, that is the best news possible.

Which leaves me with less than two weeks before I run the Ely Half Marathon where I will be attempting to break the World Record for a half marathon while portaging a canoe. I know I am going into this massively under trained but that is what is going to make this a challenge on the tough but beautiful course in northern Minnesota.

The comeback continues!