How the 10K road race turned a reluctant walking jogger into an annual participant.

Every Memorial Day, thousands of people from around the world flood the streets of Boulder for an event that’s bigger than a 10K road race. It’s not too late to register. I don’t know if there’s enough space left if all 5,000 of you sign up, but check out more information by clicking on the obligatory Folsom Hill shot.

The Bolder Boulder turns an ordinary Monday morning into a citywide festival where Olympians, walkers, musicians, families, veterans, and people like me all move together toward the same finish line.

I’ve never considered myself a runner.

Back at Carey Junior High, I spent a couple of years on the cross-country team. “Running” might have been too generous a description for what I did.

I survived more than I competed. Between the wheezing and side cramps, I learned, as a 14-year-old, that distance running requires a mindset I didn’t naturally possess.

Regardless, in 2002, I lined up at the Bolder Boulder starting line, soon after 9/11. Here’s a video I shot in 2008 with Elvis. Click on the mugshot from 2025.

I’ve returned every year since then and participated as a walking jogger, a determined and survivor.

I don’t train. The last time I tried to prepare for a race, I twisted my ankle and forfeited my entry fee.

I also carry a media credential, which gives me a different perspective on the event. Instead of focusing only on my own exhaustion, I pay attention to the thousands of stories unfolding around me.

That’s the real race.

Every year, I shoot short video clips along the route and stitch them together into a movie. The Bolder Boulder is a running event from Point A to Point B, combined with a street festival spread across six miles of Boulder neighborhoods. Click on the picture of the Howling Commandos to watch the 2025 non-race highlights.

Recording entertainment is part of my ritual.

The belly dancers on Folsom Hill always draw a crowd. By the time runners reach the top of the incline, many of us need spiritual encouragement.

The music and dancing deliver it.

A little farther along, Elvis appears near the 7-Eleven like a rhinestone-covered guardian angel watching over exhausted runners. You can hear laughter before you even see him.

Then the bagpipes drone before runners enter the stadium. That sound changes everything.

After grinding through the course, hearing those pipes echo in the distance feels cinematic, like a Mel Gibson movie.

The finish is near. The crowd noise swells. Your tired legs suddenly muster up a little extra energy.

Then you enter Folsom Field, where the Buffaloes play football.

Nothing prepares you for that moment the first time you experience it.

Forty thousand cheering fans fill the bleachers. Even if you had walked half the course, even if your knees hurt, even if you questioned your life choices around mile four, entering that stadium makes you feel like an Olympian.

The roar rolls down from the stands and wraps around you. Well-wishers along the rail share “high fives” with the runners passing by.

Everyone’s a champion.

The Bolder Boulder has something for everyone.

World-class elite runners and wheelchair racers from across the globe chase prize money and prestige.

Serious local athletes try to beat personal records. Costumed runners shuffle along in superhero capes. 

Walkers treat the race like a social event. Spectators camp in their front yards, grilling burgers before nine in the morning.

The event belongs equally to the front-of-the-pack Kenyan runner and the guy jogging in a banana costume while carrying a beer.

That’s why I keep coming back.

The race reminds me that participation matters more than perfection.

Memorial Day carries heavy meaning, with F-15s streaking overhead and paratroopers gliding onto the football field carrying flags.

The Bolder Boulder balances remembrance with celebration. It honors sacrifice while celebrating the joy of being alive and moving forward together.

If you’ve ever thought about doing the Bolder Boulder, stop overthinking it. 

You don’t need to be fast. You don’t even need to run much. You just need to show up. I took my mug shot selfie on the right three months after I got up from my deathbed, after six weeks in the hospital, and managed to make my annual Memorial Day rounds.

If I can finish the Bolder Boulder, half-dead and lugging a camera and an oxygen bottle, you can make it!

The course, the crowds, the music, the spectacle, and that unforgettable entrance into Folsom Field will carry you to the finish.