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!

Skinny Raven Half Marathon Recap

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. 

That was not what I needed for my first race back but at this point it didn't matter.  I had to run it.

 

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.

I sat for a few minutes in a chair, gathering my breath and assessing. I realized that other than the few steep downhills, I hadn't thought of my knee all day. As I got up and began making the short walk to my AirBnb, I noticed my legs weren't sore. Or even tired. And my knee didn't hurt.  Oh praise whomever, my knee didn't hurt!  

I wore a new shoe for me for the first race back called Mount To Coast.  I was intrigued by them because they made a point of talking about how they were made for ultras but on the road and for speed. This is something I have preached for years about how trail running and ultras are not necessarily separate things and you can run ultras on the road and desire to run as fast as possible. The greatest thing I can say about any shoes is what I will say about these: I never once thought about them.  That's a good review.

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. Five months and 2 weeks after the partial knee replacement at the local TCO with my surgeon Dr. James Bircher (and that follows 11 months from the previous surgery which did not work) I am on the roads again.

This was a good start. Clearly I picked the right date. 

Knee Surgery Journal: 9 mile long run and awaaaay we go

My goal to do a crash course in training for this half-marathon was to simply get one 9-miler under my belt. I knew if I could do that, I could get the 13.1 in a decent time. So on Saturday, I hopped on the treadmill and 72 minutes and 11 seconds later I got my 9 miles done. Even with an industrial fan blowing in my face from a foot away, Moat Rauschenberg had formed around my treadmill.  Par for the course for being the Sweat-a-Tron 3000. But I stepped off the mill with the big goal completed.

I will readily admit that before getting on the treadmill, I was nervous. it has been 500 days since I had run that far. I have had multiple surgeries since then (even ones not on my knee.) I am rapidly approaching 50 years of age. There was a lot of trepidation about this run. So much so that even when I started, the normal 7.5 mph I would normally start at made me feel winded. For some reason, after a mile setting the treadmill to seven point FOUR felt more doable and I kept it there for most of my run.

Now I have the half-marathon on the horizon. As I write this there was a 7.3 earthquake off the coast of Alaska in the general vicinity of Anchorage, where I am heading tomorrow. First ad foremost, as a tsunami warning has been issued, I hope for the health and safety of all in the area. About 40th and not as pressing, but mattering to me, is I sure do hope I get to run my race.

If I don't, it will only drive home the point I have often tried to point out about why, more than almost anything else about my 52 marathons in 52 weekends, not having a race canceled or missing it for any number of reasons was a huge accomplishment. I set out to run a race every single weekend, when there were far less actual races then there are today, and races weren't put together solely for the purpose for people to keep streaks alive. Weather happens. Injuries happen. Pandemics happen. That is why veracity matters. 

When I finished the 52nd marathon I let out a huge sigh of relief. Nothing could possibly go wrong to take way the achievement. Fortunately, while I am trying to get a marathon and a half in all 50 states before I turn 50, even if this race gets canceled, I still have some leeway. Not as much as I would like (thank you pandemic, Trump in general, knee surgeries) but still time.

Regardless, I have, as safely as I could in the time allowed, got myself ready for this half marathon in Alaska. If it happens, that just leaves me with 11 more states to conquer in the next 315 days. Let the countdown begin!

Knee Surgery Journal: under 200 lbs and 7.5 miles run

My goal, if I was going to actually run a decent half-marathon on July 20th was to get at least 9 miles in as a run the week before the race. I was beyond pleased to to run 7.5 miles today. Next up: a 9-miler  in just a few days, ahead of schedule.  Will that be enough t power me to a 13.1 time of sub-8 minute miles? Possibly, but I will have to work!

Moreover, I got my weight under 200 lbs for the first time in about 19 months. I know many don't believe me when I say this but my body loves to be fat and gets there as quickly as it possibly can whenever I let it.  I don't know how much I topped out weight-wise after my first knee surgery last year but I do know it was more than 230lbs.  When I finished running all the streets of Minneapolis just two years ago, I was 174 lbs. That's a BIG swing.

So when I stepped on the scale the other day and saw a number that started with a "1", I was extremely happy. Dropping another 1.5 pounds today added to that glee. I am guessing I will be around 192 lbs when I toe the line in Alaska on the 20th which will have me the heaviest I have ever been for a half-marathon.  But it's a start.

Such a good start that I have already begun planning my next year. My goal to run a half marathon in every state before I turn 50 has had fits and starts. The last half decade was slowed by COVID, the knee injury and surgeries and life things. But I still have time before 05.31.26 to get this done. (I also have to run a marathon in NC to get all the states as well but what's another 26.2 miles between friends?) 

Either way, 7.5 miles today on the treadmill, sweaty spiked hair, and a big smile from me. 

Knee Surgery Journal: 5K run and last PT

 I am doing my best ti not ramp this up too quickly and luckily behind both out of running shape and trepidatious over the knee have helped keep me in check.  But after two days of running 2 whole miles I decided to run a 5k on the treadmill at a more relaxed pace than I had done the previous days 2 miler where I went out at 7:54 and brought it home in a 7:04.

Truth be told I was thinking of simply doing a 3 miler and then realized with a half mile to go, I might as well tack on the .1 to get that 5K time in the bank to then go off of. I have to say that I was more that pleased when I ran relatively even paced miles of 8:00, 7:54, and 7:35.  Throw in whatever my time was for that last .1 and I ended up with a 24:11 for this 5k or a 7:48 pace.

Doubting greatly I will be able to run 7:48 pace for the entire marathon in three weeks but this was a decent start.  I woke up today to sore shoulders and back muscles. I vividly recall running my first marathon and then having the antecubital space or "elbow pit" of my arms being so unbelievably sore from holding my arms in a run position for about two hours longer than I ever had before. So I wasn't surprised that the traditionally "running" muscles weren't sore but my arms and back were. 

Today was supposed to be another 5k but I dropped it down to 2 miles when I remembered I had a physical therapy session. After a warm-up, I hopped on the treadmill again as my excellent PT fella watched me run for about five minutes. When I was done he said I was looking great and that this was likely it for my therapy. I scheduled a visit for the week after my half-marathon just to follow-up and see how I feel but as of today, I have no other sessions scheduled for the first time in 468 days.

The Ides of March was my first PT session last year and boy was that a foreshadowing I did not catch onto.  I now have a little over three weeks until I see not only how healed I am but also how quickly I can get into racing shape. I have run 123 half marathons and only 8 of them have not been under 1:40.  All 8 of those are special circumstances races (end of a half Ironman, pacing a friend while carrying a camera, running on sand, carrying an 6- foot vinyl banner, etc.) so it would sure be nice if I could not add to the 1:4x list.

Only time will tell, of course, but I am ready to move forward. Time to make some history.

Knee Surgery Journal: My first mile back

 

It ain't much but it's honest work.

Thought about inserting that meme here because that's how I felt after today. One mile.  I ran one mile.  For the first time in 196 days, I ran a full mile without stopping.  Bear in mind that 196 days ago I was barely two weeks after running my first mile in 8 months after my meniscus repair surgery.  A repair surgery which I didn’t know at the time had not worked.

I ran that 3 mile run 196 days ago and was in pain. I thought it was a good pain, but it was a pain telling me the knee was not fixed.

Today I ran pain free. I am out of shape. My muscles are weak, but I seem to be, four hours later writing this, to be ok. Just a little over four months after my surgery, I am running. (It could have been even less but I decided to throw a wrench in my plans by getting surgery on my perforated septum in my nose two weeks ago and delay everything.)

So, now, I have 28 days until a half marathon I am planning on running in Alaska. I have 4 weeks to hopefully build up enough stamina to make this NOT my worst half-marathon ever. (A position currently held by a half-marathon at the end of an 70.3mile triathlon a little over a month before I tore the meniscus in my knee originally. My time:1:59:02. I walked most of the last three miles of this very hilly, very hot day, where I was on fumes. The next slowest, if you are interested, was a 1:48 that I ran fully on a beach in hot humid Galveston where I added an extra mile.)

I should be able to finish this race and I should be able to do so in a healthy way that helps me build back my racing.  That is what is important. Not just getting out there and slogging through. I want to be able to race and race fast again. Otherwise, there is no point of racing, to me at least.  Running, absolutely.

Regardless, it all starts today with one single 7:35 minute mile.