Why do you run? To keep up with grandma! 

A personal perspective on the Bolder Boulder

Linda Jones

06/05/2008 - “The Bolder Boulder is a 6.2 mile carnival” someone once said, but it’s even more – a crazy community circus brimming with Pass It On kindness meets Family Fitness. Our family long ago rejected the traditional family barbecue on the deck for the togetherness of getting up before dawn and spending the morning on our feet. Maybe it sounds crazy, but the shared fun and feeling of accomplishment trumps any succulent rib-eye.

  The camaraderie in three generations sharing together the wild costumes, weird lawn acts and favorite bands is a lifetime memory. We ran. We walked. We laughed. “See the slip-n-slide. Check out those freebies on the left! Look at the banana costumes! Great band!”

  My friend Sue and I first began run/walking the Bolder Boulder in 1996. After I severed my Achilles tendon in 1994 and my then-doctor didn’t detect that serious injury inside the severely sprained ankle, I couldn’t walk normally. I began many visits to outstanding orthopedists in the area and none had ever seen one severed and not reattached surgically immediately. (After just a few days, the tendon rolls up and can’t be reattached.) Finally a wonderful orthopedist, who didn’t have an answer either, promised to find an answer and weeks later, he did. A new doctor in the metro area had pioneered Achilles transplants. We met; I learned there’s a tissue bank in Denver; the surgery was successful, and after weeks of crutches and an orthopedic boot, I could walk normally again. Sue and I began a hiking regime to rebuild my right calf, now two inches smaller than the left. We set a goal: Next year the Bolder Boulder.

  A gaggle of family and Gilpin friends have joined in and this Memorial Day we totaled 18, including all three of my children, five of my grandchildren, assorted friends and CU students. Sue drove from Kentucky and my son flew from Nashville.

  Some of our group are real runners and were assigned to an earlier wave, starting at 7:15 am. The rest of us coordinated our expected finish time so we were assigned to two waves starting at 9:14 and 9:17. My CU student-granddaughter has stayed right beside me for years and we always have fun, but this year was a real bonus because two of her college-age friends joined us and stayed in a group behind Sue and I. The girls surprised Grandma; they brought the bright red tees that ask “Why Do You Run?” for the entire family. On the back they painted the answer: “To keep up with Grandma!” Dozens of people said hello and sang out Happy Birthday as they passed the obvious Grandma.

  Memorial Day wasn’t really my birthday, but the BB this year was my “birth” into a new class of runners. Each five year group, male and female, comprises a class and each participant is ranked within that class in the final print-out mailed to us. I normally place 17th or 18th in my class, and when I learned the first 10 places in each class receive medals, my goal has been to win a medal. This year was a good year to do that; I was now the youngest in my class, so I planned to go for it.

  The day before the run, I downgraded my expectations to simply finishing this year. For four days prior to Memorial Day I was suffering from stomach flu and my intake of food-fuel was nearly nil, so I was a weak cookie. The hero of our group is my grand-daughter’s roommate. She was in a fatal car accident her freshman year of college and was hospitalized several months with four breaks in her pelvis, 22 broken ribs, a few broken vertebra, broken clavicle, punctured lung and skull fracture. She was told then she might not walk or go back to college. She’s now a junior at CU and works part-time as a server, on her feet for hours.

  Oh, such fun! We didn’t see the man who cartwheels the BB every year this year, but we saw the pogo-jumper, and she was only about eight years old. We didn’t see the banana team this year, but we saw the tutu girls. We saw lots of patriotic costumes and hundreds of bibs honoring veterans by name. The Puppet Man was a sight to behold, with crossed sticks above him and strings to all his limbs. Everywhere there were crazy, wonderful, inventive hats – Uncle Sam hats, Greek god hats, skeleton hats, leprechaun hats, every hat imaginable.

  Our CU students saw lovely tree-lined residential streets they’ve never seen before. (The course was changed this year, as it is periodically.) One of everyone’s best memories will always be the kindness and encouragement of the people of Boulder. They line the streets, smiling, clapping, playing jazzy music, offering liquids, shouting encouragement.

  The whole morning is full of good will and smiles and helpfulness. Everywhere are children who are using their muscles and accomplishing a goal with their parents. Babies can be seen on every block, riding in backpacks or on shoulders. No one whines. We all just keep plugging away.

  Then the payoff looms ahead – the finish line in Folsom Field. Personal pride demands a faster pace, head high and a fast run around the field to the finish. Everyone is sweating, tired and happy. We pick up our free lunches, water or beer and meet at the buffalo to walk another few miles back to our cars, all parked near our final goal – a wonderful Indian restaurant. We all gather around tables, comparing notes, passing around the collected freebies, comparing who saw which costumes. Before we part, we all toast “Next year!” (I came in #18 in my class this year – again! Oh well, there’s always next year.)