Bolder Boulder

This time next week, I will no doubt be cursing at my own body and downing ibuprofen like it was going out of style. On Memorial Day, I will be running the Bolder Boulder 10k.

The last time I ran this was in 2000, right before I left for San Diego. My life was about to take an interesting turn that I could not have predicted. I’d have a nasty breakup with my girlfriend, move to a new city, and experience the tech downturn firsthand. I’d also have made what was perhaps the most liberating and, at the same time, entrapping decision.

Prior to then, I’d not been a car guy. I didn’t like driving, did it only when necessary. I’d ride my bike EVERYWHERE. I hauled my groceries with my bike. I’d ride in the rain…in the snow. To work. From work. 365 days a year for the most part. For fun. With the move to San Diego, I’d need to get over that. (And now I love to drive, to the point my current vehicle plays in to that.) So I bit the bullet, got myself a truck, and unknowingly kissed my fitness goodbye. As much as I tried to ride in San Diego, the city just wasn’t set up for what I liked to do.

Fast forwards 10 years – New Year’s 2010. I was 60-70 pounds heavier than I was then – granted, I was a beanpole, but I was also in great shape. Now, I had no stamina, I’d get winded going up stairs. I’d been through a bout of pneumonia which still scars my lungs to this day.

That afternoon, I found a channel on the TV that was showing a series of Ironman triathlons. I watched for hours, my attention wholly on not the professional athletes, but on everyone behind them. The Everyman. The 72 year old nun who was doing her 20th Ironman. The firefighter who was made of cookie dough 12 months ago. The various athletes with missing limbs. The mother making the run for her two children with a fatal genetic disease. John Blais, who ran with ALS, and died the next year.

Who was I if these people could accomplish this seemingly impossible feat? 2.4mi swim – 112mi bike, and a 26mi marathon. It made me feel increasingly like I was living a life of failure. I felt dirty. I felt like I’d wasted any potential I had.Their stories were so infinitely more interesting than my own.

So I decided I’d had enough of it. I started planning out how to dig myself out of the physical, financial and spiritual rut that I’d created for myself. I put myself into rehab for a decade of excess, sickness, and sloth. I planned out my finances to the penny. I started paying off my debts. I endeavored to make wiser choices in what I ate, and I began making decisions that led to a greater purpose other than the now.

And I started working out. I didn’t listen to anyone who wanted to tell me where I should have been, what I should be doing, how much I should be running or lifting. I listened to my gut, and did what I knew I could accomplish. Maybe it was small, but it was worth doing. I signed up for the Bolder Boulder so that I had something to work towards. It didn’t matter what my time was, or how I survived it – all that mattered was that I did it.

Today, I’m 15 pounds lighter. I have much more stamina than I did when I started, I’ve got my credit cards paid off, and I’m generally more positive about the world around me.

Next week, I’ll likely kill myself just trying to run 10K. But it isn’t about that day, or that one event. It’s about that lifetime.