Mike Sohaskey's Staging Area

BOTTOM LINE: Honestly, it’s tough to find fault with the Grandma’s Marathon. Sure, I could complain that true to the law of supply and demand, local hotels and businesses jack up their prices for race weekend—case in point, our room at the Holiday Inn & Suites in Downtown Duluth cost nearly $400/night, more than a room at the world-class Four Seasons Hotel in Sydney, Australia. And maybe I could argue that scheduling a race in mid-June dares Mother Nature to bring the summer heat. But at that point I’d just be looking for reasons to kvetch.

Instead, I’ll say that Grandma’s is where small-town charm & hospitality meet big-city efficiency & logistics, with the world’s largest freshwater lake as its centerpiece. It’s a definite “feel good” race, and in that sense it reminds me of a Fargo (ND) or a Missoula (MT) or a Clarence DeMar (NH), though Grandma’s hosts a significantly larger field than its small(er)-town counterparts. So it’s no surprise that this year’s sellout was the fastest in the race’s 48-year history.

The tranquil, tree-lined course parallels Lake Superior for 23 miles without a single turn before finishing at Duluth Harbor, a stone’s throw from the city’s most iconic architectural landmark, the Aerial Lift Bridge. And the lake’s not the only thing that’s Superior, as every volunteer I met was enthusiastic, supportive and helpful. Grandma’s is a major boon to the local economy, and clearly the city rallies around its race. As well it should— as the tenth-largest marathon in the U.S. in 2023, the pride of Duluth punches well above its weight class and merits strong consideration as the biggest small-town race in America.

Dining Tip: For a memorable meal in Duluth check out Va Bene, an Italian eatery that boasts an enclosed solarium and outdoor deck overlooking Lake Superior.

PRODUCTION: Show me a perennially popular race weekend that hosts nearly 20,000 runners in a town of 86,000 residents, and I’ll show you a level of professional excellence that’s second to none. When it comes to logistics and runner satisfaction, the Grandma’s team does pretty much everything well. In addition to getting the big important things right, the organizers show a thoughtful attention to detail that clearly comes from a legit combination of expertise and caring.

Nothing about race weekend feels half-assed, from the bustling expo (among the best I’ve seen outside a World Marathon Major), to the start-line shuttle buses (comfortable and on time), to the highly visible balloon mile markers along the course, to the strategically positioned aid stations (officially every two miles for the first 20 miles, then every mile to the finish), to the finish-line gathering in Canal Park. I also heard good things about the post-race celebration in Bayfront Festival Park, though I didn’t attend. The race even offered a separate train and viewing experience for spectators (at $90 per person, including a pair of Grandma’s Marathon-branded socks) that Katie would highly recommend.

SWAG: The 2023 Grandma’s Marathon medal is a well-crafted keepsake and an instant favorite. Suspended from a bright orange ribbon, the medal is a hefty handful of silver-plated hardware that depicts a scene of summer in Canal Park starring Duluth Harbor and the Aerial Lift Bridge. Adding a splash of color are the red race name and blue state outline of Minnesota with red dot showing the location of Duluth. Meanwhile, the finisher shirt—which as the name suggests runners received only after crossing the finish line—is the typical short-sleeve tech tee, though its attractive dark blue color makes it more appealing (and more likely to be worn) than the usual black, white or brightly colored alternative.

For more details on race weekend specifically and Duluth in general, check out my race report at https://blisterscrampsheaves.com/2024/03/26/grandmas-marathon-race-report/

BOTTOM LINE: If you haven’t “herd,” there’s a reason The Cowtown was voted “America’s Rave Race” back in 2020. There’s a reason it was voted the Best Marathon in Texas and Best Half Marathon in Texas by runners across the US. And there’s a reason that as of this writing, the event has earned Top Rated status with 1,000 reviews—more than any other event—here on RaceRaves. The Cowtown ain’t one of them “all hat, no cattle” races, y’all.

This was the first race where I felt like—for the first few miles, at least—I could HEAR each mile marker before I reached it. Every mile seemed to feature a different musical act, and in particular I appreciated the Elvis tribute as well as the high-energy accordion of the AlpenMusikanten polka band. If you’re a runner who finds motivation in the music, you’ll find what you’re looking (or listening) for in Fort Worth.

As far as highlights, mile 7 through the Fort Worth Stockyards National Historic District with its decidedly Old West vibe (and aroma 🐮) is what most folks think about when they think about Texas, even if the area immediately surrounding the Stockyards feels like a dilapidated ghost town. To one side of the street, a jet-black cow statue glared down on us (can you blame her?) from atop a neon steakhouse sign, while on the other a rust-colored horse mannequin stood like a sentry on the edge of a retail balcony. And not to be confused with cobblestones, the red brick streets around the Stockyards were comfortable and easy enough to run on, though I reckon that could change in wet weather.

After the Stockyards, the Blue Mile leading up to the Tarrant County Courthouse in mile 9 was a moving tribute lined with U.S. flags, ribbons and posters depicting fallen soldiers. This long straight stretch, which preceded the hardest-hitting hill on the course, was attended by servicemembers in uniform who cheered on the runners (a humbling feeling, to be sure), providing the perfect motivation to dig deep and get ‘er done. It’s tough to feel even the slightest pang of self-pity when faced with the reality of those who made the ultimate sacrifice to protect the rest of us.

The two-mile straightaway home stretch on Lancaster Ave was a smart way to end the run (the fewer turns, the better), followed by a smoothly executed finish chute with plenty of snacks and an easily accessible family reunion area where I met Katie. Spectator bleachers even lined the finish line, which I thought was a cool and thoughtful touch. One reason the Cowtown is such a bull-loved event is that it understands the devil is in the details.

If, by the time you exit the finish chute sporting your finisher medal, Cowtown-branded disposable mesh hoodie (another nice touch), bag o’ munchies and giddy smile, you still haven’t gotten your fill of Fort Worth’s western heritage, well then by all means do step inside the Will Rogers Memorial Center (conveniently accessible to all runners, this is late February after all) and specifically the state-of-the-art facilities that host the Fort Worth Stock Show & Rodeo. Take a deep breath and let the Old West fill your sinuses—in this day and age, it’s as close as most of us will come to feeling like a true cowboy.

Congrats to Race Director Heidi who, not surprisingly, was sans voice by the time I saw her at the finish line on Sunday, and who continues to host a world-class event that’s one of the best race weekends not just in Texas but in the entire nation. I ran this half as a fortuitously timed training run for London, but I’d love to come back and add it to my list of TX marathons (or ultras) in the near future.

If you’ve yet to run Fort Worth on the last weekend in February, I’d recommend you find out for yourself what all the fuss is about in 2024. The Cowtown is a race that won’t “steer” you wrong.

PRODUCTION: It’s no exaggeration to say I’ve yet to experience a race weekend with better production values than The Cowtown. Case in point, the corral layout on race day was among the best I’ve seen—the corrals were laid out (to use a physics analogy) in parallel rather than in series, so that faster runners didn’t have to elbow their way through the masses or climb over fencing to reach their corral. Rather, you simply bypassed the other well-labeled corrals before arriving at your own, with each corral feeding into its proper sequence at the start line on Gendy St in front of Dickies Arena. It was a well-designed layout that utilized the parking lot of the Will Rogers Memorial Center to perfection. In addition, pace groups carried different-colored signs depending on the distance—red for the half, blue for the full, green for the ultra (50K). And despite bypassing every aid station (my usual M.O. on a cool day), I have nothing but props and gratitude for all the tireless & enthusiastic volunteers who made the entire weekend possible. If you run a race of any distance without thanking the volunteers, you’re doing something wrong.

Coming from an hour away, we only managed to catch the tail end (no pun intended) of the pre-race expo; even in its waning moments, though, it was an energetic affair that featured more vendors than your typical expo and especially in the post-pandemic era. The Cowtown team are pros in every sense of the word.

SWAG: Maybe it’s a Texas thang, but as was the case when I ran Houston and Dallas, I received two shirts at The Cowtown—a short-sleeve white tech shirt at packet pickup along with a short-sleeve red Under Armour finisher’s tech shirt in a sealed envelope that we were instructed not to open until we crossed the finish line. I don’t know many runners who need two more short-sleeve shirts, one of which is emblazoned with sponsor logos, so I would have preferred a single lightweight quarter-zip … and especially in late February when I can wear it immediately. (I was tickled to see on the back of the finisher shirt the slogan “HOW THE WEST IS RUN,” which I do believe was first coined in our 2018 “Best Marathons in the U.S.” article here on RaceRaves.)

For its part, the attractive finisher medal depicts the Fort Worth Stockyards sign above longhorns in running shoes, the latter a subtle detail you may not notice on first glance. I’m proud to add it to my collection, my only objection being that the medal is shaped like a jigsaw puzzle piece (see photo) and is the second in a four-part series that, once completed, will no doubt make a bad-ass keepsake. I just wish they’d find a different way to design these modular medals so that each more easily stands on its own for us out-of-towners who aren’t able to collect all four.

(Note: Because it fell on the same busy weekend as the nearby Los Angeles Marathon this year, the OC opted to cancel its marathon distance and focus instead on the half marathon for 2021.)

BOTTOM LINE: There’s a lot to love about OC Marathon Weekend, most of all the race itself. The half marathon course is fast and smooth, with a net downhill (elevation gain of 295 ft & loss of 405 ft, according to my Garmin), beautiful views of Newport Bay, and some of the nicest, most well-maintained roads you’ll ever run. Course highlights include a speedy downhill mile on MacArthur Blvd in mile 2–3 with the Pacific Ocean stretching to the horizon ahead of you, several early miles through affluent Corona del Mar that showcase the magnificent waterfront homes along Bayside Drive, and exhilarating mid-race views across Newport Harbor and the Back Bay. Plus, the finish line venue at the OC Fair & Event Center offers ample parking along with plenty of space for finishers & their families, running club tents and sponsor booths. And this year’s post-race performers, ‘80s cover band/fan favorite Flashback Heart Attack, always bring a nostalgic good time wherever they go.

Like many of the best urban races, the OC provided a detailed online Runner/Spectator Guide before the race that featured an overview of race weekend including course maps, road closures, spectator viewing, start/finish line information, and sponsor shout-outs. Very helpful, and particularly for support crew hoping to cheer on their runners along the course.

Credit to the pacers from A Snail’s Pace (a local retailer & running club), who did a spot-on job of motivating their charges while also sharing frequent nuggets of wisdom re: hills, hydration, pacing, etc. I ran most of the race with the 1:45 pace group, despite not having trained at a sub-8:00/mile pace in months; thanks in part to their encouragement, I managed to hang on for a 1:44:23 finish, my fastest half marathon in 3½ years.

(Oh, and kudos to the humorist in mile 8 who chalked a large, rightward-pointing arrow on the sidewalk with the words “SHORT CUT” below it, which pointed to an offshoot pathway with a clear “do not cross” line and the message “NO CHEATING!” chalked across it. 😆)

In a normal year (which hopefully 2022 will be 🤞), the OC is held on the first weekend in May as the second of three races in the Beach Cities Challenge, the others being Surf City in Feb and Long Beach in Oct. Having now run all three half marathons as well as the latter two marathons, I can vouch for the fact that the trifecta is well worth doing. And if you ever have questions about any of the three races, feel free to reply to this review and I’m happy to help.

For SoCal natives and traveling runners alike, the OC Half Marathon comes highly recommended if you’re eyeing a personal best or simply want to enjoy a top-notch 13.1. And while this year’s race may have been many small steps for this man, it was one giant leap for post-pandemic normalcy. 🙌

PRODUCTION: From pre-race expo to post-race party, OC Weekend is a polished, professional event. The expo is well laid-out indoors at the OC Fair & Event Center, and although there’s a $10 parking fee for the fairgrounds, there’s also plenty of free parking after hours at Costa Mesa City Hall across the street (along with electric vehicle charging stations). Race day itself was nearly seamless, the only semi-hiccup being what previous reviewers have noted, namely the challenge of start-line parking and runner drop-off at Fashion Island. Though runner drop-off information is included in the online Runner/Spectator Guide shared before the race (see above), navigating the flow of traffic & road closures live on race morning is a different ballgame. At any rate, more signage around Fashion Island would go a long way toward alleviating confusion and sparing the poor traffic officers having to yell “KEEP MOVING, DON’T STOP!” at drivers who’d paused by the side of the road at what was ostensibly the runner drop-off spot. (Pro tip: If you’re driving to the start, take Jamboree Rd to PCH to Avocado Ave to 360 San Miguel Dr, where you’ll find plenty of parking followed by a short walk to the start line).

Other than that, the day was a pitch-perfect production, from the high-energy start & finish lines (thanks to race announcer Fitz Koehler, who was in midseason voice), to the well-spaced aid stations with volunteers who clearly announced what was in each tiny cup (water or Gatorade), to the spacious post-race layout at the OC Fair & Event Center. By the time you exit the OC Fairgrounds with a smile on your face and sporting your attractive blue-and-orange swag (of course, I’m partial to that color scheme 💙🧡), you’ll fully appreciate the expertise and attention to detail that the OC Marathon team and its terrific volunteer corps bring to race weekend.

SWAG: This is a race that definitely don’t skimp on the swag. Apparel-wise, all half marathoners received 1) a stylish, heavyweight white quarter-zip pullover with the OC Marathon logo on the lapel and blue sublimated side panels featuring a palm tree theme; and 2) a separate—and similarly stylish—short-sleeve blue tech tee with “FINISHER” printed on back, even though many folks chose to poke fate in the eye by wearing it during the race. Both are high-quality and decidedly above average on the comfort scale. Then of course there’s my favorite part—the shield-shaped finisher medal, which in this case is a hefty keepsake sporting a colorful ribbon and “OC 13.1” logo along with 3D sculpted palm trees. Very SoCal in its own distinctive way, which isn’t easy given that the OC must compete with Long Beach and Surf City, two other excellent Beach Cities races that are all within 25 miles of each other, to carve out its own unique identity. That said, if my own experience and the other reviews here on RaceRaves are any indication, the OC more than holds its own on the crowded SoCal race calendar.

BOTTOM LINE: The New England Green River Marathon is clearly a marathon created for runners and by runners, with no other distance offered and with the stunning beauty of the New England countryside in the starring role. The course runs point to point from Marlboro, VT to Greenfield, MA on ~40% paved roads and ~60% unpaved gravel roads, traveling alongside its namesake river for much of the race. Registration opens early in the year (Jan/Feb) and sells out its ~550 slots quickly with no waitlist. So this is very much a “you snooze, you lose” affair.

As road races go, NEGRM is a decidedly low-frills affair with no pre-race expo (bib numbers were mailed several weeks before race day), no pre-race pasta dinner, and a small but sufficient post-race party that included three food trucks plus a beer station, none of which I sampled because my stomach is a post-race buzzkill. If you thrive on spectator support and on-course entertainment, this may not be your ideal marathon. But if you favor low-key, picturesque gems that play to their strengths and let Nature do the talking, then do yourself a favor and check out NEGRM. In comparison to a very similar marathon, the Clarence DeMar Marathon in nearby New Hampshire, I liked Clarence DeMar a bit more for its diverse scenery and compelling pre-race speaker (Dick Beardsley in 2019). That said, either race comes highly recommended, and do keep in mind that 50 Staters can count NEGRM for either Vermont (where it starts) or Massachusetts (where it finishes). Double your pleasure!

Two key factors combine to make NEGRM a deceptively challenging course. The first is its steady downhill trajectory (net elevation loss of ~1,400 ft), which you really don’t appreciate until your overworked quads cry “uncle” late in the race. And the second is the insidious humidity, which wreaks havoc on your body’s ability to cool itself efficiently. In fact, Race Director Tom Raffensperger reported that if the race had been scheduled for three days earlier, given the combination of high heat & humidity he would have been forced to cancel.

So a word of warning to prospective runners: while the New England Green River Marathon is a beautifully memorable run in the woods, it’s definitely not a walk in the park.

PRODUCTION: Race production was streamlined in scope—as noted above there was no pre-race expo or pasta dinner and no on-course entertainment, while the modest post-race festival consisted of three food trucks and a live local band. When it came to the details that mattered most, however, the New England Green River Marathon team did a spot-on job of setting expectations and delivering a seamless experience as far as timing, aid station support, course markings, mile markers, volunteers in all the right places, etc. And I know that fellow 50 Stater @slowjuan was surprised and delighted to discover UnTapped energy gel for the first time, which apparently infuses pure Vermont maple syrup with real coffee for a sweet surge of energy.

SWAG: Not surprisingly, race swag comprised the basics: bib number, shirt and medal. Given that only the latter of the three matters to me, I appreciate the wooden medallion that’s tastefully rendered and smartly designed to convey a classic Vermont vibe, even if the green ribbon feels like an afterthought. The short-sleeve cotton shirt, on the other hand, fits nicely enough but features dark green & red lettering on a royal blue background for a visually cacophonous ensemble that—unfortunately for the sponsors—renders all but the largest lettering unreadable.

BOTTOM LINE: Named for a local real estate agency and its eponymous foundation dedicated to helping low-income & homeless families, Windermere is a relaxed, picturesque marathon that will be even better in the post- (as it was in the pre-)Covid era. This is largely because 2022 is expected to welcome the return of the original point-to-point course, which includes 11-ish miles of this year’s route plus Gonzaga University and a festive finish near Riverfront Park (in contrast to this year’s necessarily low-key start & finish in the parking lot of the Windermere offices in Spokane Valley). That said, this year the Negative Split team did a terrific job turning gators into Gatorade with a pleasant, well-supported event that consisted of two out-and-backs on the paved Centennial Trail along the Spokane River. I’m typically no fan of out-and-backs, and especially in the later miles when you can clearly see the fatigue on the faces and in the body language of your fellow runners who are several miles ahead of you. Unfortunately, a global pandemic tends to limit your options as a runner or race director. And the river is a beautiful centerpiece for the race, even if the non-river side of the course doesn’t always live up to the same scenic standard.

Spokane itself is a charming city with two main highlights for the weekend tourist: Gonzaga University, a small Jesuit university that’s paradoxically home to one of the premier men’s college basketball programs of the past 25 years, and Riverfront Park, which is the legacy of the 1974 World’s Fair and the focal point of downtown Spokane. Riverfront Park feels like a more sprawling version of Tulsa’s Gathering Place but with a nicer river frequented by gaggles of elegant Canada geese. And while the park is the emerald jewel of the city, its beating heart is mighty Spokane Falls, whose power has been harnessed to generate electricity for well over a century. One of the joys of racing in Washington is that many (if not most) of the state’s marathons & half marathons run within view of an impressive body of water, and Windermere’s course alongside the fast-flowing Spokane River is no exception.

PRODUCTION: Windermere (along with Negative Split’s other marathon in nearby Coeur d’Alene) was one of the few marathons held in the U.S. in 2020, albeit with significant changes, and it was clear from this year’s production that this was not the team’s first pandemic rodeo. From the quick & easy outdoor packet pickup at the local Fleet Feet store (finisher medal included) to the rolling start line to the scaled-back post-race gathering, race weekend was seamless if subdued. The entire process gave me a renewed appreciation—and frustration—for the fact that given the chance to implement similar Covid mitigation strategies based on the science of viral transmission, more events could have safely and responsibly moved forward with reduced field sizes last year.

Out-and-back courses typically aren’t my jam, but this year it couldn’t be helped, and more than anything I think most of us were grateful for the chance to be healthy and racing again. The DIY aid stations were an afterthought for me since I only paused at the mile 8 turnaround to grab a bottle of water, but Race Director Ryan did pass me on a bike in the later (warmer) miles asking if I needed water, Gatorade or anything else, so a shout-out of gratitude to him. More than anything, I appreciated that mile markers were taped to the trail throughout the race, and especially in the closing miles when mentally I celebrate every mile marker as a mini-finish line. Plus, race photos were free, though for whatever reason no photos of me were available—not a big deal since Katie captured plenty along the course.

SWAG: The multi-blue finisher medal is brightly colored and nice enough, though as one-third of a three-piece interlocking medal for runners of Negative Split’s Run the PNW Series (comprising Windermere, The Split Half Marathon and Coeur d’Alene), it’s wedge-shaped and visually less satisfying than a comparable standalone medal. That said, I can imagine the three-piece medal in its entirety would be a lovely keepsake. Fortunately, the long-sleeve black tech shirt is a keeper—I know some folks aren’t fans of black and especially during the summer months, but having grown up an unabashed fan of heavy metal music, for better or worse I still have a soft spot for black clothing, even as my closet steadily fills with race apparel.

For more insights on Windermere specifically and Spokane in general, check out my blog report at https://blisterscrampsheaves.com/2021/09/06/windermere-marathon-race-report/

BOTTOM LINE: To sum up a terrific Little Rock weekend in one pithy statement, I’d say the medal is large and the Chicks are In Charge. And if I could earn only one non-virtual marathon medal for all of 2020 (which unexpectedly turned out to be the case), I’m glad I earned it in Little Rock. Arkansas’ capital city may be renowned among marathoners for its intimidatingly large finisher’s medal, but while every race does need something to hang its hat on, the truth is that Little Rock’s appeal goes well beyond the bling.

I wrote a bit about the city itself in my recap of the Jacob Wells 3 Bridges Marathon, but one of the coolest things about Little Rock is that unlike 3 Bridges, which runs mainly along the tree-lined Arkansas River Trail, the city’s namesake marathon treats its runners to a living, breathing history lesson. The course passes Little Rock Central High School (which in 1957 became the epicenter in the battle for forced desegregation), the State Capitol, the Clinton Presidential Library and Museum, the governor’s mansion, and even the Arkansas School for the Deaf with its leopard mascot (hence the deaf leopards, which totally fit with the weekend’s ‘80s theme). As urban marathon courses go, Little Rock is high on the list and particularly among mid-size cities. I’m even willing to forgive the two ho-hum out-and-backs from miles 6–8 and 19–24, since finding 26.2 miles of runnable roads typically requires some ingenuity.

Oh, and a word of advice for anyone trying to decide between the full and half marathon in Little Rock: if you have the training to run either, this is a no-brainer. Only the 26.2-mile course passes Central High School and the State Capitol… and though you may question the wisdom of your decision in the closing miles, all skepticism will fade once you cross the finish line and get your mitts on the nation’s largest and blingiest medal. Because the only thing worse than FOMO is the actual MO.

A year later, I admit our Route 66 and Little Rock weekends — separated by just over three months — tend to blend together, forming a memorable mid-size marathon smoothie in my brain. Then again, that’s a compliment to both since each features a festive atmosphere, top-notch organization & competence on the part of the race staff, a comfortable post-race gathering venue, great swag, and a lively Southern host city with its own Hurts Donut shop. And even though Little Rock is a city of bridges, the one brief section of the Route 66 marathon course that actually runs on Route 66 also happens to cross a bridge. So it’s understandable I might mix and match the two races in my head at times (luckily I’m a meticulous note-taker). My recommendation would be that you visit both cities and run each race for yourself to see how they compare through your eyes. The truth is you can’t go wrong with either, and I’d argue you’ll go very right with both.

As you may expect in Downtown Little Rock there’s no shortage of lodging options, chief among them the uber-convenient Little Rock Marriott, which borders the start & finish line and which shares a building with the Statehouse Convention Center, home to the pre-race expo.

PRODUCTION: Event Directors Geneva Lamm & Gina Pharis (aka the Chicks In Charge, or CICs) and their team know how to throw a 26.2-mile party and have a fabulous time doing it. Case in point their carefully crafted, always creative event theme (2020’s was “Totally Awesome” ‘80s) which changes annually but which never disappoints, and which the CICs clearly put their heart & soul into bringing to life. Seeing the two of them dancing atop the riser alongside the start line on race day, silhouetted against the rising sun with megaphone in hand, felt like the perfect start to my first and (as it turns out) only marathon of the year. And the two deserved to enjoy the fruits of their year-long labor, as race weekend itself was organizationally flawless, from the high-energy expo to the historic course (see above) to the comfortable post-race celebration inside the Little Rock Marriott where volunteers strolled the room offering exhausted runners hot dogs and breakfast burritos. The indoor venue in particular was a strong finishing touch, since Little Rock weather in early March tends to be less than totally awesome.

SWAG (5 shoes): Ask any traveling runner about Little Rock, and the first thing you’re likely to hear about is the finisher’s medal. It’s unabashedly ginormous and hefty with plenty of sparkle (see photos), and you can expect a solid core workout if you plan to showcase it proudly around your neck. (Given this year’s “Alice in Wonderland” theme, I hope the CICs model the medal after the White Rabbit’s pocket watch so the post-race gathering resembles a Flavor Flav fan convention.) Each year on the first weekend of March, the Little Rock medal elicits an outpouring of oohs and aahs on social media from amazed/envious/horrified commenters. And I heard several runners admit they opted to run the full marathon rather than the half based simply on the size of the medal, training be damned—because whether you race to collect shiny hardware or do it strictly for the purity of competition, few things trigger such inexplicable FOMO as the Little Rock Marathon medal. Don’t ever let a runner tell you size doesn’t matter.

Participants also received a short-sleeve race tee that fits nicely and… wait, did I mention the medal?

For a colorful recap of Little Rock’s “Totally Awesome” ’80s-themed race weekend, including 46 nostalgic song references, check out my blog at https://blisterscrampsheaves.com/2021/03/22/little-rock-marathon-race-report/

BOTTOM LINE: In a city known for its block parties, Route 66 bills itself as “Oklahoma’s Biggest Block Party”—and it may be right. Though “fun” may not be the first word you associate with the Sooner State, there’s a reason Route 66 is an annual favorite with runners across the U.S. including national clubs like the Marathon Maniacs and Half Fanatics. From its colorful confetti gun start to its popular “unofficial aid stations” to its Center of the Universe detour (earning it the title of “World’s Shortest Ultra Marathon”) to its Arts District finish alongside Guthrie Green, few marathons take care of their runners like Route 66.

Yes, the rolling course boasts its share of hills—or what Marathon Executive Board Chairman Tim Fisher prefers to call “character”—but then again if you run 26.2 miles for fun, chances are you’ll sound a bit silly complaining about a few ups and downs along the way. Besides, there’s no better place to walk off your hard-earned post-race soreness than The Gathering Place, a sprawling urban park along the Arkansas River located in mile 10 that was voted “Best New Attraction of 2018” by USA Today. So then I guess what I’m saying is YES, you really will get your kicks at Route 66.

PRODUCTION: Full disclosure, we spent two days hosting a booth at the Route 66 expo, so I had ample time to pick up my packet and explore the expo. That said, the entire weekend was smooth sailing, and aside from holding the race in Upper Texas (sorry, I grew up in Dallas so the Texas-OU rivalry is still ingrained in me), I can’t recall any memorable glitches or obvious areas for improvement. Great expo, great start line, high-energy (albeit hilly) urban course, a “ONE MILE TO GO” banner that I missed while staring at my shoe tops, plus a comfortable recovery venue after the race in Guthrie Green. Aside from that last dozen or so hills, what’s not to love?

And hills notwithstanding, Route 66 is a great race for first timers—not only for its terrific on-course support but because first-time marathoners and half marathons earn a shout-out on their bibs as well as an exclusive “My First Marathon” or “My First Half Marathon” medal to celebrate their accomplishment.

SWAG: Route 66 features some of the best swag out there, including a nicely fitting jacket (for full and half marathon finishers), finisher’s medal (which in 2019 was modeled after a 1940s Cadillac hood ornament), Williams-branded gloves, and even hand sanitizer which turned out to be downright prophetic and the most useful freebie of all. And with a new five-medal series leading up to the event’s 20th anniversary in 2026 and showcasing popular, larger-than-life symbols from along Route 66 in Tulsa (such as Space Cowboy “Muffler Man” Buck Atom), the bling promises to remain a creative conversation starter.

For a better sense of Tulsa and Route 66 weekend, check out my full race report at https://blisterscrampsheaves.com/2020/12/30/route-66-marathon-race-report/

BOTTOM LINE: Whether you’re a focused 50 Stater or a restless runner looking for a top-notch race in a beautiful setting, CDM is one DeMar-velous marathon. With a population of ~23,000, Keene is a cute, quaint, welcoming community that feels like you’ve stepped out of a wayback machine somewhere in turn-of-the-20th-century New England (and especially if you’ve just driven in from nearby Boston). For out-of-towners there’s not a lot to do in Keene, but then again there’s just enough: take a self-guided tour of the charming Keene College campus, visit the collection of vintage-style murals and advertisements around town (which add to the anachronistic sense of time travel), and make a date with one of the town’s several brewpubs to celebrate your 26.2- or 13.1-mile accomplishment. Keene is a place where, 90 years later, the town’s favorite son would still feel right at home.

CDM is an impeccably produced event that clearly cares about its runners and the community it supports. And this attitude spills over into every detail, from the always friendly and eager-to-help volunteers, to the pre-race pasta dinner with its high-profile guest speaker (Dick Beardsley for us), to the way they treat their last finisher with just as much joy and excitement as their first, referring to this resolute soul as their “cardiovascular runner,” i.e. the runner with the most heart. Brilliant. After running it for myself, it’s easy to understand why CDM won our RaceRaves “Best of the US” Marathons poll for New Hampshire. In fact, if you find yourself registering for CDM after reading this, tell Race Director Alan Stroshine that Mike from RaceRaves sent you — the man’s smile and enthusiasm are infectious, and I guarantee he’ll be one of the best conversations you’ll have all weekend.

If a high-energy outing à la Vegas or New York City is your ideal race weekend, Keene may not be your cup o’ tea; then again, if you’re reading this and considering a marathon in rural New Hampshire, you probably already knew that. But if you’re looking to escape urban insanity for a few days in favor of a more peaceful and picturesque venue — and especially in early autumn when the local foliage offers a sneak peek of its fiery fall wardrobe — then CDM is just what this doctor ordered.

If you do decide to run, I’d recommend you first read “Marathon,” the 1937 memoir of 7-time Boston Marathon champion and former Keene resident Clarence DeMar. I was pleasantly surprised to discover it’s a terrific narrative that will give you a much deeper appreciation for the man, the town and the rich background of this event. And don’t forget to pay your respects to the larger-than-life mural of Mr. DeMarathon himself located next door to local sporting goods retailer Ted’s Shoe & Sport.

PRODUCTION: CDM production was on par with the best races I’ve run, a particularly impressive feat for a small-town race with only 768 total (marathon + half) finishers. Numbers aside, don’t sleep on DeMar — its 361 marathon finishers in 2019 represented a 143% increase over 2018. And I’m confident that once we’re able to overcome the challenge of COVID-19 as a nation, CDM will continue to grow in size and stature. Its increasing popularity is a tribute to Race Director Alan Stroshine and the Keene Elm City Rotary Club as well as to the Keene community, which puts its heart and soul into supporting this event. A well-produced race is one thing, but a well-produced race suffused with this level of dedication and pride is a special find.

RD Alan’s regular email updates in the weeks leading up to race day helped to set expectations for runners and spectators alike, with extremely detailed directions to ensure no key detail was overlooked. And whereas the pre-race pasta dinner is typically one of the more hit-or-miss aspects of race weekend (a lesson I’d learned the hard way in Mobile five years earlier 😬), the CDM pasta dinner at the Courtyard Marriott — the host hotel where we stayed — was an unexpected delight thanks to a remarkable guest speaker in Dick Beardsley, who lost the “Duel in the Sun” at the 1982 Boston Marathon by two seconds to crazy man Alberto Salazar. (If you don’t know Dick’s life story, pick up a copy of his autobiography “Staying the Course: A Runner’s Toughest Race.” Wow.) Previous CDM speakers included Boston Marathon RD Dave McGillivray and former Runner’s World editor-at-large/1968 Boston Marathon winner Amby Burfoot, so Alan doesn’t mess around when it comes to securing guest speakers that his runners actually care about. And as long as we’re talking attention to detail, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who noticed the napkins at the pasta dinner were green and orange, the official colors of the Clarence DeMar Marathon. Then again, maybe I’m the only one who notices stuff like that?

As for race day, the route featured clear signage in advance of aid stations, plus frequent green (for the marathon) and orange (for the half) directional arrows on the ground; these were especially helpful at road crossings and where the full and half courses diverged. Though a minor detail, my psyche also appreciated the Mile 13.1 sign at the halfway point. And I was surprised to learn after the race that CDM recruits 500 volunteers; with everything they did to ensure race weekend went off without a hitch, I would have sworn the number was closer to 5,000. A huge THANK YOU to some of the most capable and caring volunteers in the country.

One curious choice by Alan and his team was the decision not to offer solid nutrition (CLIF, GU etc.) along the course, though this too was clearly noted in his pre-race emails, enabling all runners to plan accordingly — like resourceful 50 Stater John P from Tulsa (@slowjuan on RaceRaves), who apparently scored a much-needed jelly donut off one of the local kids late in the race. So there’s that. And speaking of munchies, the post-race party on the Keene State campus featured an assortment of food options served on the large grassy quad alongside the finish line, where runners and their families capitalized on the beautiful fall weather. Nearby, a Millennium Running timing tent welcomed finishers to print out their results.

One last detail worth noting: In addition to the marathon and half marathon, race day featured a DeMar Kids Marathon as well as a Super Seniors (70+) Marathon, a simple yet amazing idea. While kids runs are a staple of many marathon weekends to empower the next generation of runners, very few events focus on the opposite end of the age spectrum. DeMar’s Super Seniors Marathon is a novel concept I’d recommend to races across the country as a more inclusive way to support their local communities.

SWAG: The CDM finisher medal is a nice, multi-colored keepsake with the race logo depicted on front and a quote from the man himself engraved on the back: “Not only in running but in much of life is a sense of balance and proportion necessary.” The loosely fitting long-sleeve race tee is comfortable enough, though unfortunately I’ll never be able to pull off neon green — my name is close enough to Mike Wazowski’s already without me actually dressing like him. (I did end up purchasing an electric blue pullover that’s quickly become a go-to favorite, with the CDM logo in gray on front and “DEMAR” in gray vertical letters down the back). Every finisher also received a water bottle at the finish line which was, conveniently enough, pre-filled with water. Last but not least, I scored a free New Balance poster of the Duel in the Sun, signed by Dick Beardsley at the pre-race pasta dinner, to complement my purchased copy of his autobiography. All in all, a swag-errific race weekend in the Granite State.

If you’re Keen(e) on CDM, don’t stop at the Cliffs Notes — check out my full race recap of our Clarence DeMar Marathon weekend at https://wp.me/p2rSqE-1UT

BOTTOM LINE: Sometimes a marathon weekend just feels good from start to finish — marathons like Missoula and Jackson Hole spring to mind, and Fargo likewise is high on that list. Which is a major reason this has become the go-to marathon in North Dakota for 50 States runners like me. With a tagline like “North of Normal,” the state’s largest city clearly embraces its cool and quirky vibe, and is an easy place to spend a memorable weekend. A word to the weather-wise, though: do come layered up and ready to withstand winter’s last gasp — even in mid-May, with most states happily transitioning to hay fever season, Fargo (and its adjacent sister city Moorhead, MN) greeted us with wind, rain and temperatures in the mid-40s. That said, for race director Mark Knutson and his team this clearly wasn’t their first rodeo, and the race’s start & finish inside the Fargodome on the NDSU campus was a stroke of genius. Because on a race day when Mother Nature was in foul temper, truly there was no place like Dome.

Outside of race activities, three examples of Fargo’s quirky charm that await your discovery: 1) As you drive around town, keep an eye out for the 15 or so full-size, painted fiberglass bison that adorn the city; these were commissioned for the 2005 art project Herd About The Prairie: A Virtual Art Stampede and were first unveiled at the 2006 marathon (see uploaded collage); 2) For fans of the 1996 eponymous Oscar-winning movie by the Coen Brothers, the actual woodchipper used in the film is on display in the Fargo–Moorhead Visitors Center; 3) As you might expect in a college town where winter tends to usurp much of spring and autumn, Fargo features an impressive microbrewery scene, and I can personally recommend the friendly confines of the Drekker Brewing Company where we met RaceRaves member John P. after the race. John is a pro when it comes to (in his words) “post-race pain management,” so if you’re a 50 Stater or traveling runner who’s always looking for the best places across the country to grab a post-race beer, follow @slowjuan and check out his reviews on RaceRaves.

If you have limited travel opportunities, I can certainly see why you’d prioritize Hawaii, California or even Montana over North Dakota. But if you’re a traveling runner intent on exploring and experiencing the United States in all its color and flavor, then I can’t recommend Fargo enough, dontcha know.

A note on travel: as Southwest Airlines devotees we flew into the closest hub, Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport (MSP), on Thursday (for a Saturday race) and drove the 250 miles across Minnesota to Fargo, a wide-open drive that featured greenery galore plus a whole lot of farmland and several of the state’s celebrated 10,000+ lakes.

PRODUCTION: Note to race directors: you’ll go far with production like Fargo’s. As mentioned above, Executive Director Mark Knutson clearly knows what he’s doing, having launched the marathon in 2005 and helmed numerous other events in addition. The prerace expo, with vendor booths uniquely situated on the concourse of the Fargodome, was thoughtfully designed and easily navigated, highlighted by a surprisingly interesting session with guest speakers Cindy Lewandowski and Scott Jansky, the winners of the inaugural 2005 Fargo Marathon. Each was returning to the Fargo Marathon for the first time, and they talked about their lives post-Fargo, with Cindy having gone on to complete a marathon in all 50 states.

Aid stations along the course featured signs to distinguish water from Powerade. And though this detail may seem small, veteran runners will appreciate its significance — during a marathon, the brain goes into standby mode as glucose is shunted to the muscles where it’s needed, so any visual cue a race director can provide to take the onus of decision-making off the runners will be advantageous and much appreciated. No runner likes having to waste time and energy at an aid station sorting out which drink is which with a well-meaning but frazzled volunteer, and especially if all drinks are served in the same nondescript white Dixie cup (though as I write this now during the COVID-19 pandemic, individual cups served by volunteers may soon be a thing of the past). And another example of Fargo’s keen attention to detail — for all those runners inevitably staring down at their shoe tops late in the race, the mile markers were noted in white paint on the street. So unless you were running with your eyes closed (in which case you had bigger problems than losing track of distance), you couldn’t miss them. Together with smart touches like these, starting and finishing inside the Fargodome may have been the wild card that earns Fargo a 5-shoe rating.

One hint for getting to the Fargodome on race morning: traffic on I–29 leading into the dome was a mess, with a long line to exit the highway. If you come from a big city or somewhere like SoCal where highway driving can sometimes feel like one of the desert chase scenes from “Mad Max: Fury Road,” you’ll quickly recognize that Fargo drivers (like their non-driving counterparts) are incredibly nice people, and that hypothetically speaking you could potentially save yourself a ton of time by bypassing them all and then quickly merging back into the slow-moving line closer to the exit. I’d never be the one to condone such behavior, much less recommend it, but I’m just saying in theory it’s possible.

SWAG: Definitely among the best I’ve received, including a sturdy orange drawstring bag with two zippered pockets, as well as what’s quickly become one of my two favorite hoodies — an attractive offering with denim-blue sleeves/hood and gray torso emblazoned with the colorful Fargo Marathon logo (on that note, I’d urge other RDs looking for quality race swag to take a close look at CI Apparel in Fargo). The finisher medal, always the true object of my swag affection, is colorful (maybe too colorful) and hefty enough to cause a neck cramp, though the medal’s muddled collage imagery is a bit busy for my taste, as though the designer were considering a number of candidate images and ultimately decided to include them all. On the back of the medal, a Fargo tradition as I understand it, is engraved a relevant Bible verse familiar to many runners: “Let us run with perseverance the race that is marked out for us” Hebrews 12:1. And finally, rounding out Fargo’s top-notch swag was a race poster featuring the same imagery as the medal. All in all, marathon #40 in state #27 was a runaway success, and between Fargo and my 2011 experience at Crazy Horse, I’m almost willing to concede the value of having two Dakotas. Almost.

For a full rundown of Fargo Marathon weekend, check out my blog recap at https://bit.ly/2LvWwnb

BOTTOM LINE: In a way, I feel like I’m writing this review with one hand tied behind my back — because I didn’t really run the Old Mutual Two Oceans Marathon. Sure, I completed 56 km along the official route within the allotted 7-hour, 30-minute cutoff time to earn my 50th anniversary medal. But due to the “credible and real threat” of disruptions (i.e. riots) along the original course, the race was rerouted to a contingency course that bypassed the iconic Chapman’s Peak section overlooking the Atlantic Ocean; thus, what we actually ran might best be described as the One Ocean Marathon. Never mind that at 56 km (35 miles) in distance, OMTOM is actually an ultramarathon. And never mind that neither route actually reaches the Indian Ocean; rather, each runs along False Bay which empties into — the South Atlantic. Not that I expect the organizers to rush to change the race name to the “One Ocean Twice” Marathon anytime soon.

And so despite all its positives, for this reason (exclusion of Chapman’s Peak) I couldn’t in good conscience give the 2019 edition five shoes. Because without the undisputed highlight of the course, Two Oceans is no longer “The World’s Most Beautiful Marathon.” Which means I now need to return to Cape Town to run the conventional OTMOM route. Two go-rounds at the same race? Sounds an awful lot like another South African race I know and love…

And speaking of that, having run the Comrades Marathon (OMTOM’s older, more brutish brother) twice in the previous two years, it was tough not to view Two Oceans as “Comrades Lite.” From the similar expos to the differentially colored bib numbers to the performance-based medals to the playing of “Shosholoza” and “Chariots of Fire” at the start, so much about this race hearkened me back to the Ultimate Human Race. And as the second-largest ultra in the world (behind only, yes, Comrades), OMTOM is undoubtedly the most popular qualifying race for athletes hoping to run Comrades two months later. It’s clear these two races captivate and dominate the running landscape of the nation.

All that said, call me a TOMboy, because there’s plenty to recommend about Two Oceans like its seamless production, international camaraderie and yes, even without “Chappies,” its Cape Town scenery. I’m gratified we made the trip halfway around the world to celebrate its golden anniversary. And this is a race I can recommend wholeheartedly to anyone looking to run their first or their 50th ultramarathon. Because to borrow a quote from the film “Run As One,” shown during the pre-race expo, at Two Oceans “You’re not running against anyone, but you’re running with everyone.”

One piece of advice: if you do decide to take the plunge and run Two Oceans, do yourself a favor and train for hills — no matter which course you end up running, you’ll be glad you did. After all, this ain’t your mama’s American road race.

PRODUCTION: Race day production was seamless, though the organizers did send out a post-race email apologizing for an apparent water shortage (which I didn’t experience) on brutally steep Ou Kaapse Weg, the toughest ascent on the contingency course. Pre-race communication was relatively sparse, including a lack of clarification and updates re: the rerouting of the course 24 hours before the start. South African runners may have had a better sense for the contingency course, but coming from 10,000 miles away I had no idea what to expect, and so Katie (as a spectator) and I ended up spending more time than we would have liked the day before the race scrambling to figure out the new route.

The OMTOM expo (held in the Cape Town International Convention Centre) was similar in size to a big-city US expo and smaller than the Comrades expo, though with many of the same vendors. I took the opportunity to stock up on my Maurten supply and to say hi to Lindsey Parry, the official Comrades coach whose podcast advice played a huge role in my Comrades success each of the past two years. Unfortunately, as someone with an Achilles heel for running shoes, I was disappointed to find Adidas (the official apparel sponsor) hadn’t created a limited-edition OMTOM shoe, which felt like a no-brainer. Luckily we were able to catch the excellent movie “Run As One” at the expo, plus I bought the coffee table book “Celebrating 50 Years of the Two Oceans Marathon.” So I had no trouble getting my OMTOM memorabilia fix.

(By the way, if you’re able to hit the expo on Thursday and avoid the rush, I’d recommend you do so unless you fancy your expo like Walmart on Black Friday. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time for close-packed camaraderie in the start corral on race day.)

SWAG: As far as swag, the 50th Two Oceans Marathon was about one thing for me — the medal. And it did not disappoint, with a gold ribbon and a large bronze “50” emblazoned on the African continent in profile. Seeing the medal hang on my wall at home, I’m actually glad I didn’t finish the race in less than six hours, since the “5” outlined in blue that distinguishes me as a sub-7 finisher stands out boldly and complements nicely the blue dot situated over Cape Town on the outline of Africa.

And though it’s nice material with a decent design, the official Adidas race tee doesn’t come out of the closet much — you’ve got to have game to pull off seafoam green, and especially when you’ve got skin the color of Casper the Friendly Ghost. Luckily, the OMTOM store at the expo was selling a different shirt that came in a much more reasonable shade of blue.

For the complete “run”down of the 50th Two Oceans Marathon (come for the race, stay for the penguins!), check out my blog report at https://wp.me/p2rSqE-1RP

BOTTOM LINE: Tokyo is big, it’s bold, it’s bonkers. It’s eclectic, electric, hypnotic, frenetic. And it’s a heck of a place to run a marathon. As the most populated metropolitan area in the world, Tokyo feels like New York City — on steroids. Coming from Los Angeles, I felt strangely at ease with Tokyo’s vast urban sprawl, which others may find unsettling (though if you’re only in town for the marathon, you may not experience it). And speaking of unsettling, the city is remarkably clean — never would I have expected to find myself in an urban setting of 13+ million residents where trash bins are both unavailable and unnecessary.

If you’re an American planning to run the Tokyo Marathon, odds are you’re doing so in your quest to run all six World Marathon Majors (Tokyo, Boston, London, Chicago, Berlin, NYC) and earn the coveted Six Star Finisher Medal. Either that or you love banging your head against the wall, because Tokyo (along with London) is the most difficult marathon in the world to get into; last year alone, the race received 330,271 applications for fewer than 37,500 slots.

With that in mind, if you’re determined to run Tokyo then your best bet is either to run for one of the race’s approved charities or to travel, as we did, with a tour operator like Marathon Tours — though be aware that given the high demand, Marathon Tours conducts its own mini-lottery to distribute its available Tokyo and London entries. And though you will pay a premium through Marathon Tours (this is their business, after all), it’s unlikely to be a deal-breaker for runners with Six Star fever on the brain.

Plus, the company hosts a Friday city tour and pre-race pasta buffet, as well as a terrific post-race party replete with drinks and hors d’oeuvres, the latter held in the swanky 39th floor ballroom of the Park Hyatt, the hotel where the movie “Lost in Translation” was filmed. (Apparently the Park Hyatt was also destroyed by a UFO in the movie “Godzilla 2000,” but hey you can’t win ‘em all.) As part of the post-race festivities, two Seven Continents Club finishers (including our friend and fellow Antarctica adventurer Louann) as well as over 100 Six Star Finishers were recognized. It was a unique opportunity to meet fellow traveling runners, and the perfect ending to an amazing day.

As for the race itself, Tokyo is quite possibly the most high-energy marathon you’ll ever run (I can’t speak for London yet, though apparently it holds its own). It’s a sporting event on a global scale, hosted by folks who know how to throw a party. Even in the cold and rain, the streets of Tokyo were lined with spectators and supporters holding signs and cheering loudly. If you’re the type of runner who’s motivated by community support, Tokyo will inspire you from start to finish. And being able to see fellow runners coming from the opposite direction on the out-and-backs was a nice distraction, as I scanned the soggy crowd for familiar faces. One word of warning: the combination of soaring skyscrapers and frequent turns may cause your GPS to betray you at times (mine claimed a final distance of 27.3 miles, along with a 6:26 mile 19 and 6:39 mile 20 that I’m confident I didn’t run).

Like the other World Marathon Majors, Tokyo is decidedly unique in the way it carries and presents itself. It’s the very definition of a well-oiled machine, professional and buttoned-up without sacrificing its luster and charm. After the race we were greeted back at the Tokyo International Forum by smiling volunteers holding signs that read “Congratulations! Tokyo loves you.” And the feeling was mutual.

PRODUCTION: Tokyo Marathon 2019 production can best be described in terms of pre- and post-finish. From the start line alongside the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building to the finish line on the grounds of the Imperial Palace, race day production didn’t miss a step or skip a beat. Similar to Chicago but unlike Boston and New York City, the start corrals were easily accessible and within walking distance of the host hotels. And volunteers posted every 50 yards or so along the course held trash bags to ensure that every scrap of trash found its happy home.

To be able to organize and mobilize 38,000 runners (including 500 10K runners) from around the world through the streets of a densely packed city like Tokyo without incident is an extraordinary accomplishment, one for which the organizers deserve huge props.

The only downside to race day (aside from the challenge of finding Katie amid throngs of raincoat-clad Asian people) was the long walk from the finish line to the Tokyo International Forum building, where friends and family waited for finishers. Fortunately I was wearing gloves and wrapped in a heat sheet; nonetheless the 30-minute walk in the cold drizzle was a bizarre end to such an impeccably organized event. But in the words of every pro athlete who’s ever been interviewed, it is what it is — and honestly I was too busy basking in my post-race high to focus on much of anything else, which made the lengthy stroll feel more like a slow victory lap.

As far as nutrition goes, with the weather virtually eliminating my thirst I didn’t take advantage of the plentiful aid stations, so I couldn’t tell you what Pocari Sweat (the on-course electrolyte drink of choice) tastes like — no reason to try something new on race day if I didn’t need it. And understandably given the sheer size of the race, post-race food was limited to a bag of munchies, the best of which was an odd custard-like peanut-butter sandwich which most runners seemed to agree hit the spot. That, and I always bring my own supply of Tailwind Rebuild for after the race.

The pre-race expo was unlike any I’ve experienced in the US or abroad. Strolling the expo was like stepping into a game show/video game, with high-pitched voices, alarms, bells and whistles assailing the ears from all directions. If you’re generally not a fan of busy expos or high volume, you may not appreciate the Tokyo expo; admittedly, though, I found it oddly fascinating and difficult to leave. Luckily, few of the booths were of real relevance to me (in part because, well, language barriers), though we did visit our friends from INKnBURN whose headquarters is located near us in SoCal. Due to ongoing construction as the city prepares for the 2020 Summer Olympics, this year’s expo was held in a new outdoor venue, a tent city set up at the Odaiba-Aomi Event Area, across the Rainbow Bridge and about an hour subway ride from the marathon start line in Shinjuku City. Whether the expo will return to this same venue in 2020 is unclear.

One note of warning: I’m not much of an expo shopper myself, but I heard several folks say the official marathon jacket sold out quickly, so if that’s your angle you’ll want to hit the expo on Thursday to beat the crowds.

Not surprisingly, Tokyo’s race photos were expensive — in fact, the most expensive of any of my 40 marathons to date. Even so, $39 per picture or $195 USD (21,600 yen) for the entire set felt like highway robbery. So if you have your heart set on buying professional photos of your Tokyo Marathon experience, be sure to factor that cost into your budget.

SWAG: Much like the other World Marathon Majors, Tokyo swag for me was all about the finisher medal, which is colorful and distinctive. On the other hand, I’ve yet to remove the short-sleeve white race tee from its plastic wrapper, since having seen it on others I know I’m unlikely to wear it. Cooler than the tee, though, is the full-size towel emblazoned with the race design and logo that we received at the finish line and which will come in handy.

In the end, completing the Tokyo Marathon is not only an awesome experience and a humbling achievement; it’s also one step closer to the ultimate prize of the Abbott Six Star Finisher medal. Five down, London to go!

For more about Tokyo 2019 (and there are a lot more words where these came from); check out my race report at https://blisterscrampsheaves.com/2019/06/23/tokyo-marathon-race-report/

BOTTOM LINE: First held in 1963 during the Kennedy administration, the JFK 50 Mile is the country’s oldest and largest ultra marathon. It’s an iconic race that draws some of the country’s most elite runners, as well as folks like me. The event remains a military race at heart with its most prestigious award, the Kennedy Cup, being awarded to its top military team. Buoyed by 56 years of history, this is a must-run race for serious ultrarunners, one that inspires fierce loyalty among its finishers — case in point Kimball Byron, who sadly fell short this year in his attempt to become the event’s first 50-time finisher. With limited elevation change after the first 16 miles, this is also a great option for anyone looking to tackle their first 50-miler.

The JFK 50 course is part road (paved), part trail (unpaved). About 80% of the course runs on the unpaved Appalachian Trail and C&O Canal Towpath, with the paved 20% coming at the beginning and end. The course is divided into three main sections, starting with the Appalachian Trail (~11 of the first 16 miles) and moving on to the unpaved/crushed gravel C&O Canal Towpath (26 miles) before finishing on paved, rolling country roads (8 miles). The good news is you’ll get through the toughest section of the course (i.e. the Appalachian Trail) at the beginning; the bad news is that the hills and highly technical terrain will sap a lot of the energy and bounce from your legs. This was especially true in 2018, when record annual rainfall and eight inches of snow less than 36 hours earlier created trail conditions that were, according to one 31-time finisher, “the worst ever.” So my recommendation would be to prepare for the worst and then be pleasantly surprised if/when you luck into dry (or at least not marshy) trail conditions.

Despite having four 50+ milers under my belt, this was the first race where I can recall feeling bored for long stretches, particularly on the flat 26-mile C&O Canal Towpath along the Potomac River where the scenery never changed. As one RaceRaves reviewer put it, it was like the running version of Groundhog’s Day. With no hills, no change of scenery and no headphones allowed on the course, I spent much of the middle 26 miles in my own head trying to focus on something other than my heavy quads and mounting fatigue, while slowly ticking off the miles one… at… a… time. If not for having to negotiate frequent mud puddles, I could have run this entire stretch on autopilot.

So although I’d be curious to take another crack at this course under drier conditions, given that we live 2,500 miles away and I still have 26 states remaining, I won’t be returning for a rematch anytime soon. Someday, maybe…

PRODUCTION: Race day was a smooth production for the most part. Aid stations were well stocked (which for me means peanut butter & jelly along with bananas), though I could feel my insulin levels spike just surveying the amount of cookies and sugary foods available. And the outstanding volunteers were ready to assist with pretty much anything you’d want or need, from food to Vaseline to good old-fashioned encouragement. As is the case with most events and especially the best ones, the JFK 50 doesn’t happen without the tireless support of its volunteers who sacrifice their day so the rest of us can chase our goals and play in the mud.

Conveniently held at the host hotel (the Homewood Suites by Hilton Hagerstown), the race expo was your typical low-key ultramarathon packet pickup with tables from Altra Running (the presenting sponsor), a local running store and the JFK 50 folks themselves selling race merch past and present. The organizers even created a cool booklet featuring statistics from past JFK 50 finishers and course record holders plus a detailed rundown of historical sites along the course, very few of which you’ll be able to appreciate on race day.

The post-race spread in the Springfield Middle School cafeteria was low-key but fairly generous including pizza, chili (Sloppy Joe or chili cheese dog, anyone?) and assorted aid station snacks such as pretzels, M&Ms and red velvet cake. Massages were also available for those who were willing to freshen up first. Most importantly for me, the indoor cafeteria offered a warm place to sit and recover while reveling in the accomplishment of another 50-mile run.

I’d recommend to the organizers that the pre-race briefing begin (or end) five minutes earlier, to allow for last-minute porta-potty stops before the race start. By the time I exited the crowded gym after the briefing, took care of business and then walked briskly to the start line, the starter’s pistol had already fired and I was among the last runners to start. Not a terrible thing except the JFK 50 has no chip timing at the start, so the clock started while I was still ¼ mile behind the line in my wind pants and jacket. Oops.

SWAG: From what I can tell, the JFK 50 finisher medal never changes aside from the year because similar to Comrades, why fix what ain’t broke? The iconic award is a silver- (or gold)-colored medal depicting JFK in profile, reminiscent of (but larger than) the half dollar coin that bears his likeness. The medal hangs from a patriotic red, white and blue ribbon. Like many trail races, the shirt is a simple cotton short-sleeve tee featuring the race’s patriotic logo on front with sponsors listed on back. And though I have no shortage of race tees, I’ll happily wear this one if for no other reason than its promise as a conversation starter.

For more details including the history of the JFK 50, check out my blog recap at https://blisterscrampsheaves.com/2019/03/18/jfk-50-mile-race-report/ ‎

BOTTOM LINE: Having entered the weekend as a Kansas City newbie not knowing what to expect, I can now enthusiastically gush about the City of Fountains. Both the marathon and the city itself exceeded my expectations for a state that outsiders cheekily pronounce MISS’-ou-ri. Kansas City (as least the Missouri side; we spent very little time on the Kansas side) strikes me as a vibrant, scenic town that’s comfortable in its own skin, with a hint of cosmopolitan panache and plenty to see and do.

With significant upgrades to the marathon course in recent years, the rolling route now leads its runners past some of the city’s most notable neighborhoods, parks and landmarks including the J.C. Nichols Memorial Fountain (with its water dyed blue, presumably for race weekend) and the National World War I Museum and Memorial. Even the lengthy out-and-back along Ward Pkwy in miles 14-21 passed quickly with its upscale neighborhoods and flashy fall colors, which always appeal to someone coming from SoCal where seasons are more of a fanciful concept than a climatic reality.

Sometimes, in the course of running all 50 states, you find a race that just feels right, in an unassuming city that’s eager to showcase itself to anyone receptive to its charms. Kansas City was just such a race, and it’s probably no coincidence that it was also one of my most consistent marathon performances, from its uphill start to its downhill finish. For anyone looking for a Midwestern marathon/half marathon or any 50 Stater looking to add Missouri to their map, I’d highly recommend you #RunKCM. Oh, and do train for hills.

(Note: I ran KCM as the first half of a back-to-back with the Des Moines Marathon as part of the excellent I-35 Challenge: https://www.sportkc.org/marathon/register/i-35-challenge/)

PRODUCTION: For the most part, race weekend in the City of Fountains flowed smoothly from start to finish. The energetic pre-race expo, held in historic Union Station, was one of the more enjoyable mid-size expos I’ve attended, with plenty of diverse vendors big and small as well as a number of cool races I’d love to run if I lived in the Midwest. Popular Olympian and running coach Jeff Galloway was available to offer guidance, sign books or simply chat. Kansas City was also the site of the quarterly 50 States Marathon Club reunion, which further added to the energy of the weekend for club members.

Despite a densely packed start corral that was tough to access, the marathon course did a nice job of showing off the city and its highlights, with plenty of aid stations and terrific volunteers. And though some may disagree, I appreciated the fast downhill finish since I still had control of my legs. Spectator support was sparse, which I count as a positive since big, loud, raucous crowds typically aren’t my cup of tea. That said, a diverse collection of bands filled the air along the route with musical motivation. Hats off, too, to KCM and SportPhotos.com for providing free race photos — always a bonus, and especially if you don’t have your own star spectator like Katie to expertly (wo)man the camera for you.

Taking advantage of perfect late October weather, the finish line festival in Washington Square Park was jumping. Operation BBQ Relief dished out Kansas City BBQ while Central States Beverage served up local beers. As a vegetarian planning to run another marathon in another state the next day, I bypassed both the BBQ and beer, though not the complimentary massage tent where I got a (literal) leg up on my post-race recovery. A number of photo ops awaited happy finishers, including a gong waiting to be rung by anyone who’d qualified for Boston, set a personal record or simply run Kansas City for the first time (one out of three ain’t bad!). Even KC Royals mascot Slugger was on hand trading high-fives and posing for pictures. Given that we had our sights set on Iowa for the next day’s Des Moines Marathon as part of the I-35 Challenge, we couldn’t stay long, but I soaked up the post-race ambience for as long as possible before hustling back across the street for our noon checkout at the host hotel.

Speaking of the host hotel, this was our only legit source of race weekend disappointment. Although a convenient and comfortable facility, the Westin Kansas City at Crown Center seemed to have no clue that the city’s largest running event was happening just outside its doors and that many of its patrons would therefore be runners. For example, information on road closures in the vicinity of the hotel would have been helpful for friends and family members who would be driving the course to support their runners. Much more annoying, our request for a late checkout was denied, and by the time we reached our room minutes after noon, our room key had been deactivated. Sadly we weren’t alone, as I chatted with several other disgruntled runners in our hallway while Katie went downstairs to reactivate our key. We ended up disregarding the checkout time, grabbing a quick shower and hitting the road sometime after 12:30pm. So if you expect you’ll need more than 4½ hours to finish your marathon, you may want to think twice before booking the Westin.

SWAG: KCM earns two thumbs up (and five shoes here on RaceRaves) for this year’s standout swag, which included an attractive and comfy lightweight blue hoodie, the first of its kind I’ve received in 35 marathons and one I’ve already worn on several occasions. And the hefty square finisher medal is uniquely Kansas City in the best way, as it depicts four of the city’s fountains while distinguishing the race distance visually based on ribbon color. Well done, KC!

For more on the marathon that RaceRaves voters crowned the best in Missouri, check out my blog report (c’mon, you know you want to!) at https://blisterscrampsheaves.com/2019/01/30/kansas-city-marathon-race-report/

BOTTOM LINE: At the risk of sounding like a (happily) broken record, the Comrades Marathon is the greatest running event on the planet. Not only is it the oldest and largest ultramarathon in the world, but no other event can match its epic scope and time-honored traditions, its all-day adrenaline, and the easy camaraderie forged among runners from around the globe. Comrades is truly a race that celebrates all runners and wants everyone to succeed, from international runners who travel halfway around the world to local runners who qualify for the race but can’t afford lodging — for these athletes, the Comrades Marathon Association (CMA) sets up cots to sleep on near the start line the night before the race.

But to whom much is given — in this case, the opportunity to participate in the Ultimate Human Race — much is expected, and you can expect the journey from Pietermaritzburg to Durban (or the reverse) to be anything but smooth. Because Comrades is a trial by fire. Both mental and physical hardships await on the long, hot, hilly road to Durban, each of which will test you, test your resolve, and ultimately change you. As the 2016 race slogan predicted, Izokuthoba: It will humble you. And if you’re anything like me or the many other runners from around the world who return to this event year after year, you’ll discover that 90 km cycle of destruction and renewal to be cathartic and even downright addictive — physically, spiritually and psychologically. You’ve been warned.

PRODUCTION: Awesome, except for the post-race logistics in Moses Mabhida Stadium, which despite its sleek modernity was less runner-friendly than the smaller Scottsville Racecourse last year. I won’t be the first or last person to tell the CMA that the stadium as a finish venue is a work in progress. Whereas its grandeur and spectator-friendly viewing arrangement are beyond reproach, as a post-race recovery zone for runners it leaves a lot to be desired.

There’s plenty of work to be done to reimagine Moses Mabhida as a more comfortable and inviting post-race venue, and hopefully that starts with letting finishers and running clubs gather on the grass playing field. While I’d imagine there are liability and security issues that limit its access, it seems absurd to have exhausted runners dragging themselves up and down concrete stairs, sitting in cramped plastic seats and sprawling underfoot on the floor of the concourse while an immaculate grass surface lays unused below them.

Aside from that, race day was perfect. And a special shout-out of appreciation to all the volunteers without whom Comrades would be impossible — I’m constantly amazed at the selflessness of the folks who voluntarily stand on their feet for hours in any weather to help runners like me achieve our personal goals. You all are the real heroes of the Comrades Marathon!

SWAG: At roughly the size of an American quarter or RSA 5 Rand coin (the back-to-back medal is only modestly larger), the Comrades finisher medal may be the smallest in distance running. And yet it’s also among the most coveted. My three Comrades medals — two bronze, one back-to-back for running consecutive years — are the guests of honor in my collection alongside my Boston Marathon unicorn. To me, the medals are beautiful in their simplicity. Plus, they’re great conversation starters, particularly for puzzled non-runners who balk at the notion of running 90 km for something THAT small.

Unfortunately, the official race shirt this year was downright ugly. As my running partner Jimmy suggested, it’s almost as if Mizuno learned they’d won the Comrades sponsorship and immediately sent someone into the back of the warehouse to find a bunch of blank tech shirts on which to print a Comrades logo, year and distance. The royal blue shirt has the beginnings of a honeycomb pattern on front which morphs into a strange geometric pattern reminiscent — to this lab rat — of viruses viewed under an electron microscope. All of which adds nothing to the design. The shirt lacks the design sensibility of last year’s New Balance merch, a truth that extended to everything in the Mizuno store at this year’s expo. I showed up at the expo ready to support all things Comrades as I had in 2017, only to be disappointed by Mizuno running shoes with no Comrades branding and Mizuno t-shirts that simply said “Osaka Japan” on the front. In the end, I grudgingly saved my money and opted for a simple black tech shirt with a tiny Comrades logo on the sleeve. So a word to the wise at Mizuno: get back to the drawing board before next year’s event and KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE. You could sell hella more merch with even the slightest bit of foresight and design sensibility.

There’s a whole lot more to say about this year’s down run, and I say most of it on my blog at https://wp.me/p2rSqE-1GS

BOTTOM LINE: The REVEL race series exists for one (main) reason: to help runners exploit gravity and qualify for Boston. And if you’re a skilled downhill runner who appreciates panoramic desert views, then Mt Charleston — REVEL’s most popular race — is right in your wheelhouse. Despite its 5,100 ft elevation loss over 26.2 miles, the downhill course feels comfortably runnable and never too severe. But be warned: while the course does deliver on its promise of fast and scenic, the last 4+ miles level out significantly, with a couple of uphill jags that feel even more challenging thanks to all the downhill that came before them. And if you think you’re sore the day after a flat marathon, you ain’t felt nothin’ yet — my quads were like concrete pillars the day after Mt Charleston. Not only were they acutely sore for several days afterward, they were still heavy and sluggish over a week later. Luckily the race is held on a Saturday, which allows most folks an extra day of recovery before having to waddle back to work.

I ran Mt Charleston not to qualify for Boston but as training for the Comrades Marathon “down” run, so I wasn’t out to smash any PRs. And happily so, because along with the leveling out of the course in mile 22, the day warmed up in a hurry once we turned off the mountain onto the Hwy 95 frontage road (this IS Vegas, after all). As both the sun and temperature rose in the later miles, I saw and heard folks around me try in vain to maintain pace, their BQ hopes slipping away with every step. And Katie, who was waiting at the end, agreed that she’s never seen so many finishers crying and suffering at a finish line. Case in point, I spent ~30 minutes after the race massaging a fellow finisher’s cramping calves as she literally screamed in agony with each muscle contraction, all while Katie fetched water and Powerade to help her stay hydrated. (My patient claimed she couldn’t stand to get to the med tent.)

In summary, severe downhill course + hardcore Boston hopefuls + desert heat = a take-no-prisoners race experience unlike any other. And the formula clearly works, because the race sells out quickly and an impressive 30% of finishers qualified for Boston this year. If you’re not running Mt Charleston to chase a PR or BQ, you’re definitely in the minority. And I look forward to running with REVEL again because, well, this is my kind of craziness.

Pro tip: Mt Charleston does sell out months in advance, so if you miss out but still want to run, I recommend you add your name to their wait list. I’ve been pulled off the wait list the past two years, though I couldn’t run last year since I’d already committed to Eugene. And though it’s tough to know how much advance warning you’ll be given, odds are high that someone will drop and open up a slot for you to chase your BQ dreams.

PRODUCTION: Smooth sailing for the most part, with one exception: the bus driver who shuttled us to the start line at the top of the mountain took a wrong turn — twice. By the time we reached the start area we had six minutes to disrobe, warm up, check our drop bag, make a porta-potty stop and do anything else we needed to do. Luckily the start was delayed by a few minutes, but still I found myself in the porta-potty when the gun went off and ended up running from the back. No big deal, and especially since this isn’t a large race so I didn’t have to worry about weaving around other runners — but that’s the kind of pre-race stress I can do without.

Aside from our navigationally challenged bus driver, race production was on point. The expo, held at the Cox Pavilion on the UNLV campus, was small and easily navigated, though the predominantly local vendors and expo offers seemed out of sync with the demographic of largely out-of-town runners who come to Mt Charleston with one goal in mind: to qualify for Boston. Aid stations were well distributed and well equipped by awesome volunteers, while snarky signs along the course (e.g. “Can you believe YOU paid US to do this?” and “It’s a hill — GET OVER IT”) made clear that anyone seeking sympathy was in the wrong place.

The highlight of the day may well have been the icy towels that awaited us at the finish — WOW, talk about nirvana. As usual my stomach was in no mood to eat after the race, though both food (pie and Papa John’s Pizza) and Lagunitas Beer were readily available to all finishers. Unfortunately but not surprisingly, the line at the massage tent was too long and moving too slowly, so I skipped it. Not that a few minutes of painful muscle manipulation would have changed the course of the next two days for my aching quads.

Admittedly I’d like to see the organizers better integrate this race with the community — there were very few spectators along the route, and it didn’t feel as though the locals had any idea a marathon was happening. Hopefully improving community integration is on REVEL’s roadmap, since community support (e.g. Flying Pig, Missoula, Richmond) helps a good race become a great one while creating a more welcoming, less “run and done” vibe.

SWAG: In addition to its downhill courses, REVEL is popular for its thoughtful swag which for the most part didn’t disappoint: gloves and space blanket for race morning in case it got cold at the start line (not a problem for our bus, which arrived six minutes before the start), nicely wearable short-sleeve gray technical tee with black side panels (one of the nicest in my collection), and oversized finisher medal which, despite its impressive size and cool orange stained-glass effect, strikes me as ho-hum because it’s emblazoned with the REVEL logo which is neither artistically satisfying nor symbolically meaningful. I’m just not a fan of a company advertising itself on its medals; I’d prefer a city skyline or similar. But to end on a positive note — free race photos plus a personalized highlight video! Another way in which REVEL goes the extra mile to take care of its runners.

I’ve lived in Southern California for 5 years, and 2018 was my third time running the LA Marathon. I’d recommend my 2016 review and blog post for more details, but the TL;DR version is: I’ve run Boston, Chicago, Houston and New York City, and from both a scenery and production perspective, Los Angeles is as good an urban marathon as I’ve run in the US.

If you’re a marathoner (or would-be marathoner) who lives outside SoCal, I’d love to convince you to give my hometown race a chance. The Stadium-to-the-Sea course is among the most scenic urban routes in the country, starting at Dodger Stadium with the playing of Randy Newman’s “I Love LA” and culminating in Santa Monica just steps from the Pacific Ocean. Along the way you’ll see the City of Angels in a way that few of its residents ever do, with your foot tour including the Golden Dragon Gateway of Chinatown, City Hall, Little Tokyo, Hollywood Blvd and the Stars Walk of Fame, Sunset Blvd with its hillside view of the Hollywood sign and iconic nightclubs like the Whisky-A-Go-Go, plus Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive, to name a few of the route’s many sightseeing opportunities. It’s an inspiring course that will happily distract you from the fact that 26.2 miles is a long way to run. If you’re in it for the scenery, LA won’t disappoint.

Not only is the Stadium-to-the-Sea course one of the best in the nation, but the Conqur Endurance Group’s hefty, classic-looking medals are consistently among my favorite. If you’re in it for the bling, LA won’t disappoint.

On a normal day, Ocean Ave in Santa Monica is tourist central with a small footprint and a lot of foot traffic, so you can imagine what it’s like on race day. With that in mind, the post-race festival is held in a parking lot just off Ocean Ave and isn’t much to write home about. But there were a few food trucks along with the Angel City Brewery beer garden offering one free beer to runners. Plus, the Skechers Performance tent was a cool opportunity to get some great gear/apparel — much of it created specifically for the LAM — at 50% off retail (and I happily took advantage). All the while you’re a short walk from the beach, the Santa Monica Pier and the Pacific Ocean.

LA weather on race day tends to be on the warmer side, but this year was perfect: clear skies and starting temps in the high 40s, rising only into the mid-50s with a comforting sun by the time I reached the finish in Santa Monica. In other words, a perfect day to run a marathon.

One other notable that sets LA apart from other marathons: the course profile. With a few rolling (but manageable) hills in the first half and a 2.7-mile downhill to the finish, this is the ideal course to negative split. In fact, in 31 marathons I’ve run only two negative splits, and both happened in LA (2016, 2018). There are few more feel-good accomplishments as a runner than finishing a marathon faster than you started it. And doing so enabled me to hit my “A” goal of 3:39:59 and improve my corral seeding at the upcoming Comrades Marathon in June.

So do yourself a favor: set aside any preconceived notions of LA and give its marathon a shot — you’ll be glad you did. Hope to see you at the Stadium or the sea in 2019!

BOTTOM LINE: Close your eyes — what comes to mind when I say “trail running”? Odds are it looks an awful lot like Tecumseh. TTM is the quintessential “over the river and through the woods” type of experience, unlike most of the California trail races I’ve run which, while awesome in their own right, typically feature hard-packed dirt terrain in more exposed surroundings. And it’s a point-to-point course from one forest (Morgan-Monroe State Forest) to another (Yellowwood State Forest), always a bonus for those of us who try to avoid running loops and out-and-backs.

For weather reasons the organizers at Do INdiana Off-road (DINO) moved the race date from December to late October several years ago, giving Yellowwood State Forest the chance to fully flaunt its fiery fall colors. And aside from the brief gravel transitions, the entire trail for this year’s race was covered with a multilayered, multihued carpet of leaves cast aside by the surrounding forest.

Tecumseh feels like the middle of nowhere, to be sure — but what the course lacks in majestic mountain or expansive ocean views, it more than makes up for with rural Americana charm. Especially for us West Coast types who aren’t used to seeing leaves in any color other than green. My buddy Jeff, a Tecumseh veteran and the reason I decided to make TTM my first Indiana race, describes the course as “so deep in the woods… you expect to see the kid from ‘Deliverance’ playing ‘Dueling Banjos’ to keep you entertained.” Whether amusing or discomforting or maybe both, the truth is he’s not far off.

So whether you’re a road runner in search of something completely different, a trail runner seeking the best the Midwest off-road race scene has to offer, or a 50 Stater looking for a challenging change of pace in the Hoosier State, you’ll be hard-pressed to do better than this hidden gem tucked deep in the backwoods of Yellowwood State Forest. Banjo strictly optional, though you never know — you may just find a kindred spirit in Yellowwood.

PRODUCTION: Brilliantly executed, with just enough production to ensure the day ran smoothly and efficiently while not interfering with the low-key ethos. The comfortable, warm 30-minute bus ride from the finish area (where we parked our car) to the start in Morgan-Monroe State Forest was a nice waker-upper to start the day. And the leaf-carpeted course interspersed with gravel connectors — a wrong turn waiting to happen — was expertly marked by pink ribbons and hand-drawn white rectangles, with volunteers positioned at aid stations and other strategic spots to point us in the right direction where necessary.

Fans of stale bagels and green bananas may be disappointed by the excellent post-race spread, which featured an assortment of food and beverages including several soups and sandwiches (with vegan vegetable and peanut butter & jelly as vegetarian options) plus chips and drinks such as lemonade, coffee and hot chocolate. Two types of beer, an IPA and an Octoberfest, were also available from newly tapped kegs. The post-race party wasn’t held indoors around a roaring fire as it has been in past years, but despite the chill I was perfectly happy to sit out alongside Yellowwood Lake and chat with my fellow finishers while we all refueled.

SWAG: Tecumseh featured a couple of firsts for me on the swag side, as the first time 1) I’ve received a race sweatshirt and 2) the finisher’s medal (an extra $8 at registration) has been mailed to me after the race — the latter to allow time for the organizers to engrave the medal with my name and finish time. The sweatshirt is reasonably nice and feels warm enough to stand up to the Indiana winter, but the truth is I’ll never wear it in Southern California — I’ve lived in LA for five years now, and the next time I wear a sweatshirt here will be the first. And while the engraving is a nice touch, I prefer to receive the medal immediately after crossing the finish line, with optional engraving available post-race. Unfortunately, whereas my TTM experience will always stand out in my mind, the uninspired finisher’s medal won’t stand out on my wall. In fact, my first thought on sliding it out of its brown manila envelope was of winning my 3rd grade spelling bee, because the generic-looking award has my name and finish time engraved on the front, above and below the less conspicuous TTM logo. Yes, I know trail races aren’t usually known for their bling… but if you’re going to do it, do it well. On the bright side, at least it’s a medal I can hang and not a coffee mug!

BOTTOM LINE: It’s no hyperbole to say Missoula is the perfect small-town marathon. But you don’t need me to tell you that – it’s one of the most highly rated events on RaceRaves. Tony Banovich and his team let the peaceful rural beauty of the point-to-point course and the friendliness of the locals speak for themselves, and both speak loudly. As you might guess, you won’t get mile after mile of blasting music or screaming spectators (thankfully), but you will get a wildly rewarding marathon experience that, Halfway Hill and potential July heat aside, makes you wish you could bottle Big Sky Country and take it with you. And lucky you if you live here.

Unlike other expensive events that “entertain” their runners on race day with blaring music, colorful distractions and contrived bells and whistles, Missoula feels entirely authentic. And delightful touches like a piano player on a front lawn at mile 17 only add to its charm. Missoula is a spot-on race to include in your summer vacation plans, with Yellowstone National Park and Grand Teton National Park to the southwest and Glacier National Park to the north. Though if you do opt for a racecation, do your legs a favor and run the race first — several days spent hiking in the Big Sky heat and at Big Sky altitude beforehand will wear you down, and the ultimate victim will be your legs on race day. Somewhere around mile 18. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

PRODUCTION: In a word, elk-cellent. The Run Wild Missoula team are clearly pros — from the regular prerace email updates (particularly important when the weather forecast threatens triple digits), to enabling expo latecomers to pick up their bib numbers hassle-free at the Missoula airport, to the low-key start-line fireworks in Frenchtown, to the well-labeled aid stations, to the motivational signs posted along the course in the later miles (when I very much wanted to call it a day), to the awesome post-race spread and Big Sky Brewing tent.

Case in point, I didn’t realize until Saturday afternoon — entirely my fault — that I wasn’t going to be able to reach the expo before it closed, so I sent an email asking if I might be able to pick up my bib number at the airport that evening. Soon after, I received a very friendly and personalized “Welcome to Missoula!” email that went on to say, “We are happy to provide you with the opportunity to pick up your packet late!” The whole process was quick and easy, with Missoula Marathon banners greeting us at the airport. I’ve never received better customer service from a race.

(That said, I would suggest extending expo hours until 6:00pm, since a 4:00pm closing time for a one-day expo seems a bit early.)

Seeing all the sprinklers, hoses and squirt guns mobilized for our benefit, it felt like the entire town of Missoula had prepared and shown up for its hometown race. The town clearly takes pride in its marathon, and as a visiting runner there’s no better feeling. Because you can’t fake that — coming from Los Angeles, I know the disappointment of having an A+ race play to apathetic locals. Like Louisiana in January, this is a race organized first and foremost with the runners in mind. Race Director Tony B. seemed very relaxed (despite fighting a cold) when we saw him moments before the race, which is unusual for an RD, and I was reminded of what Peyton Manning once said: “Pressure is something you feel when you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.” Clearly Tony and his team know what they’re doing.

(And if you decide to run Missoula based on anything I’ve said, tell ‘em Mike and Katie from RaceRaves sent you!)

SWAG: I’m not that guy who proudly displays his bib numbers, but the Missoula bib stands out since it’s shaped like the state of Montana — another of the small but cool details at which this race excels. But while I’m not a bib guy, I’m definitely a medal guy, and this year’s Missoula medal is a classic reminder of a first-class event. Suspended from an eye-catching orange ribbon, it’s a hefty piece of bronze hardware emblazoned with the race logo — not always a good thing for races, unless your logo happens to feature a silhouette of an elk with shoes dangling from its antlers on a backdrop of mountains. Then you show it off whenever you can. Likewise the race tee is a keeper that promises to become a regular in my rotation, white with attractive orange lettering and stitching.

Free finish-line photos were provided to all runners courtesy of Gameface Media, though unlike last year no photographer was positioned on the opposite side of Maclay Bridge, maybe the best vantage point for photos along the course. And Referee Photo was set up at the post-race festival to print glossy hard copies of your triumphant finisher’s photo at no charge. First time I’ve encountered that, and one more “surprise and delight” moment in a weekend full of them.

BOTTOM LINE: Comrades is like no other running event in the world. It’s an audacious nickname to be sure, but the event lives up to its billing as “The Ultimate Human Race.” I’ve used the phrase “once in a lifetime” twice to describe races: once for the Antarctica Marathon and now for my first Comrades experience. And it’s that experience that keeps its finishers coming back 10, 20, 30, in some cases 40 times. I’d love to return to Boston someday, but I feel compelled to return to Comrades. This race will challenge you, it will inspire you, it will humble you. But most of all, it will change you.

They say you never forget your first. And now I get it.

The name says it all (though not the “Marathon” part, since the race itself is over 50 miles): you don’t run Comrades for the t-shirt and medal, though those are sweet perks. You run for the camaraderie and the community. You run to celebrate the spirit of brotherhood and humanity that unite us all—what the Zulu culture calls ubuntu. You run because there are no strangers between Durban and Pietermaritzburg, only friends you haven’t met yet. And you run to be part of something much bigger than yourself—17,000+ runners from 73 countries, all in pursuit of a common goal, all speaking a common language. The language of Comrades.

Unless you’re among the last-minute finishers or hooked up to an IV in the medical tent, the Comrades experience doesn’t end once you cross the finish line. Watching from the bleachers at the Scottsville Racecourse as the final few finishers struggled to beat the countdown to the 12-hour cutoff was one of the most gripping human dramas I’ve ever witnessed.

For prospective Comrades runners, if you have questions about any aspect of the race I’m sure @RorySteyn would be happy to answer them. He’s a fantastic ambassador and a wealth of information on all things Comrades, having crossed the finish line 12 times and earned a green number. Plus, he’s an incredibly generous and genuinely nice guy who knows pretty much everyone involved with the race.

PRODUCTION: Race production was flawless, as evidenced by the start corrals with 17,000 runners all crossing the line within eight minutes. And Comrades wouldn’t be the best race in the world without the best volunteers in the world. From packet pickup to on-course support to the unenviable job of forming a human wall at the 12-hour cutoff, the volunteers are as critical to the success of the race as the runners themselves. The difference being, they don’t take home a medal for their efforts.

The pre-race expo is so large, it even has its own food court. Rows upon rows of exhibitors, retailers, lounges, improvised stages and even massage stations filled the Durban Exhibition Centre. I’d recommend hitting the expo on Thursday or Friday to avoid the Saturday crush, since you don’t want to be on your feet any longer than necessary the day before the race. Separate lounge areas exist for newbies (“novices”), international runners and Green Number Club members to pull up a chair, grab a snack and chat with fellow runners while escaping the crowds. And international runners enjoy another underrated perk at the expo: a dedicated packet pickup line, which saved huge time by allowing me to bypass the Disneyland-length line of South African runners waiting to pick up their own packets. Seriously, the line looked like the wait for Space Mountain. International runners at Comrades are definitely treated like first-class citizens.

Speaking of which, Thursday evening also featured a highly recommended reception for international runners at a local hotel. The reception was well worth attending, as we met runners from around the globe as well as 9-time winner Bruce Fordyce and Cheryl Winn, the 1982 women’s winner and current Comrades Marathon Association Vice-Chair. Yet another benefit to being an international runner!

If you have a limited amount of time at the expo, I’d recommend you attend the back-to-back presentations at the Old Mutual tent by Lindsey Parry (the official Comrades coach) and Norrie Williamson (19-time finisher and official course measurer). Each man shares valuable expertise, insights and guidance to help you prepare for race day, along with pace bands that are either free (in Williamson’s case) or which can be purchased for a nominal fee (in Parry’s case, which turned out to be a smart call since Williamson’s bands were quickly snatched up by the “If it’s free, gimme three!” crowd). Coach Parry’s pace bands are temporary tattoos you can affix to your forearm, as I did on race day to track my progress.

SWAG: The smallest medal in road racing may also be the most coveted. With 92 years of history behind it, there’s a singular power and beauty to the quarter-sized medallion on its simple black-and-yellow ribbon. After all, it’s not the size of the medal you earn, it’s the size of the mettle that earned it. And when you’re the best in the world, you don’t need to change for anyone. I could go on to gush about the cool race t-shirt and wicking runner’s cap, but that’s hardly going to sway your decision on whether to run the Ultimate Human Race.

Here are my eight tips for conquering the Comrades Marathon up run:

1) Self-discipline is the key—don’t start too fast. If you find yourself running comfortably in the first few km, you’re probably going too fast.

2) Nothing new on race day—this goes for gear and nutrition. One possible exception is the official Comrades cap you’ll receive at the expo, though I opted against that too.

3) Dial in your nutrition early, before the day heats up and your stomach goes rogue.

4) Don’t underestimate the heat—Much will be made of the 2,500 ft of net climbing in the first half, and for good reason… but don’t discount the beatdown awaiting you courtesy of heat & sun exposure in the second half. International runners, this means you.

5) Focus on your breathing—when the going gets tough, deep breaths with a regular “inhale for 3 steps, exhale for 4 steps” cadence can help you relax and regain a sense of control.

6) Every step forward—if your primary focus is to finish within 12 hours, every step you take should bring you one step closer to the finish. And don’t stop moving at aid stations.

7) Expect the unexpected—e.g. many runners battled nasty cramps—and be ready to adapt.

8) Stay positive—when you’ve got nothing left to give, give a smile (I read that on the sidewalk at the Eugene Marathon).

Comrades Marathon resources I leaned on (in addition to @RorySteyn):

– Lindsey Parry’s podcast “RUN with Coach Parry”—especially its archives—is a treasure trove of expertise and insights from the official Comrades coach; older episodes are less than ten minutes each, so you can listen to several at a time. Coach Parry also has some very good content on YouTube.
– Norrie Williamson, 19-time finisher and official course measurer, recently relaunched his website (https://www.coachnorrie.co.za/); the current content is a bit outdated, but his Comrades calculator will give you a reliable sense for your projected finish time based on training mileage and recent performances.
– Bruce Fordyce’s blog (https://www.brucefordyce.com/blog) is another invaluable source of tips & tricks. And though I’ve not read them yet, both volumes of his “Fordyce Diaries”—Conquering the Up as well as Tackling a Down Run—are available as e-books exclusively on the site. If anyone can teach you to conquer Comrades, it’s the man who won it nine times!
– Our friends at Marathon Tours & Travel helped out with logistics, flights and lodging for Comrades and for our post-race travels in South Africa.

For the complete narrative of an amazing race day, check out my two-part blog recap at: https://blisterscrampsheaves.com/2017/08/07/comrades-marathon-race-report-part-1/