A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 19; 1st Edition
13.1 miles run in 2025 races
Race: Skinny Raven Half Marathon
Place: Anchorage, AK
Miles from home: 3163 miles
Weather: 59 degrees, 82% humidity
Three years ago today I visited my mom in the hospital, learning that the surgery I thought she was having, was actually the surgery before that surgery, and she would only be able to have the surgery I thought she was having, if the surgery she DID have left her strong enough to have it. It didn't. I didn't know it at the time but that was the beginning of the end of her life. I lost her in October of that year.
Two years ago today I spread some of her ashes in Oregon where she requested they be spread. I didn't realize it was one year to the day from the day above until I checked a calendar. I also didn't realize that it was seven years to the day from the reason why I was spreading her ashes there. in the first place. You see, in 2016 I took her to see the Pacific Ocean for the first time ever and we serendipitously saw a whale on the coast - a first for both of us.
So I should have realized earlier than this morning that this was the anniversary of those days and how fitting that my first race in 533 days, after two knee surgeries, and literally 28 days of training to go from 0 miles run to 13.1. But I didn't. Until about mile 10. But I am getting ahead of myself.
The Skinny Raven Half is a race I put on my calendar much earlier this year before I found out my first knee surgery didn't work and I had to have another one in the first week of February. But I kept it on the calendar just in case I might be able to pull it off. When I was given the green light to start with a one mile run June 22nd, I did a crash course in trying to prep my body for this race.
With a 9-miler on the treadmill about a week ago, I knew I could finish this race. It wouldn't be pretty but I could knock off Alaska from my states to run a half-marathon in, leaving me with just 11 to go before my 50th birthday in May.
Just a few days before the race, a helpful Facebook friend told me that he enjoyed this race as he ran it last year but it was hillier than he expected. Wait. For some reason I hadn't even checked the course elevation. Then I did.
Crap.
Race Morning:
I had booked an AirBnb so ridiculously close to the start of this race that it was laughable. In fact, I left the place at 8:46 a.m., walked a block, decided to go back to go to the bathroom one last time, did so, and walked to the start, and STILL had six minutes to spare.
It was a cool morning but extremely humid. Strike Two for me. But the cloud cover and cooler temps would at least make this palatable.
People milled around the start as the announcer cajoled people with mere seconds to go to please get into the actual starting corral and towards the front. I knew I wouldn't be one of the people deserving to be there today so I was hanging back a little bit, wanting to hopefully pass more people than passed me. But finally I had no choice but to push closer and as they counted down from three, I was in about the fifth row of runners. Under my breath I said "Well, let's see how this goes." and we were off.
First Three Miles (7:17, 7:51, 7:52)
The first half mile of this course was a quick downhill followed by a gradual downhill. I knew it would be faster than most but I had no internal metronome as of right now to tell me how I was going. I felt calm and in control. Then I saw a 7:17 and thought "Oh my."
I wanted to maintain contact with the runners I was around but I also knew I couldn't risk going out too fast. So even though he next two miles were mostly flat, I reeled back in my pace. I also realized we were running on a cycling/hiking trail and dear lord do I hate running on these. They are always twisting and turning, with undulating hills, and few people know how to run tangents. Normally, as I will have settled into an area in a race where the truly fast people are way out in front of me, and the rest of the mortals are a little behind me, I can run unhindered. But here I had to make sure to respect my fellow racers and now constantly be darting in and out of them to run the straight line.
Nevertheless, I began the climbs starting right at mile 3 with a full minute under my goal pace and felt good.
To Mile Six (8:37, 8:21, 8:28)
The two steepest hills on the way out were between three and five. I luckily knew they were there and just powered through each one of them the best I could. I was in 62nd place at mile 3 and only five spots changed from when we did the turn a little after the sixth mile, leaving me in 67th.
After a blistering downhill and then another long uphill, we left the bike trail and spit out onto the road around the airport right at mile 5. Then it was a quick downhill, before a steep uphill, before a long sloping downhill I knew I was going to hate when we turned around to comeback.
But one thing I have always been able to rely upon in racing before is once I get to a turnaround in a race, I am like a different runner. Something about no longer running away from the goal but running back to it has allowed me to turn on the jets. Running exactly at 1:45 pace at the half I thought perhaps I would eke out a 1:43, well under my goal of 1:44 for the day.
To Mile 10: 8:20, 8:39, 8:51, 8:21
While my 7th mile showed some progress I could tell my energy was getting to ebb. The 8th mile, even with a nice downhill, afforded me no relief. I know the 9th mile had the worst steepest hill of the course. When I found myself on it, for the first time all day, I realized I had to walk. Damn it.
But even with a small walk break and then tip toeing through the aid stations slowly to get electrolytes and water, I had kept the mile under nine minutes which give me a boost. I knew the 10th mile was almost all downhill and my last chance to take advantage of any of that for the day. I felt for sure I would get under eight minutes and still have about outside shot at 1:45. Seeing 8:21 right as I grabbed two more drinks was a bit of a blow.
Onto the Finish:
Then it hit me. July 20th. This was the day.
"Well, if I cry, I am so sweaty, no one will be able to tell," I thought. But fortunately that didn't happen. I was too busy watching my energy seep out of my body and into the woods of the Tony Knowles Coastal trail. A pungent stench with 2.5 miles to go emanated, I am guessing from the low tide of the Knik Arm of the Gulf of Alaska around Anchorage. We had smelled it on the way out but only for a few hundred meters so it wasn't too surprised. As I passed to ladies, I said "I swear that isn't me" in an attempt to inject humor, something which almost always gives me a boost. But even their laughter did nothing for me as I saw only a quick sprint kept me from running my first 9-minute mile of the day. Two miles to go but I had about two feet of energy left.
I put my head down and began working on all my math tricks and running things I do to help me when my legs are no longer with me. It took everything I had to even run a 9:06 mile. One mile to go but it included the long uphill and the brutally short steep finish.
I couldn't help it but I took another 10 step walk break as I was a mere half mile from the end. Powering up the final big hill, a blonde woman wearing a "Hills Angels" shirt began running with me. It was clear there were more a few ladies on hand to help runners go up this hill and this one was my escort. I had no energy for jokes and just wanted to be done.
Mercifully, crossing the finish in 1:51:17, my second slowest half-marathon ever, I was done.
Even nine hours later, as I write this, while I am a little more sore and stuff, my knee still feels fine. I cannot begin to express how happy I am about this. I still have many more plans and races to run and I don't know if the knee will ever be back to where it was but the only way I am going to know is by continuing to push it.
This was a good start. Clearly I picked the right date.
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