Bolder Boulder 10K Race Recap: My First Race Postpartum

I’ve never felt stronger as a runner than I do now and I am nowhere near where I used to be, but I am laying the foundation to get back there. On Memorial Day, just under a week ago, I completed my first race postpartum.

The Prelude 

After my first and second babies were born, I followed the same return to run plan that I offer here (for FREE) consisting of a walk/jog every other day that slowly builds to running a mile and so forth, but I feel so much different now nearly seven months postpartum than I did seven months postpartum with my first.

There are several factors that play into this I’m sure, but it’s still shocking. With my firstborn, I was a single parent with an awesome best friend to help as needed for nearly 5 months before being reunited as a family, and to say I was under a lot of stress during this time, working and taking care of a newborn, is such an understatement. I also was not nearly as consistent with my pelvic floor physical therapy and general strength training as I have been the second time around.

I began my return to running postpartum after my first around the same time as my second, but another major contributor that slowed progression after my first was born was moving from nearly 900 ft elevation to almost 6,000 ft. It was an expected setback, but that elevation change was no joke. I struggled to run two miles and continued to leak intermittently nearly 6 months postpartum after my first.

I began feeling stronger and more normal running in September of 2021 nearly 9 months postpartum with my first (nearly 3 months after moving to Colorado). However, the second time around it took me about 5 months to really get into the swing of things with very minor setbacks along the way like getting sick from all the germs the girls bring home from daycare.

Alright, times up, we are the next wave to start as we are shuffled to the start line. I am moments away from beginning my first race postpartum. Nowhere to go except forward toward the famous Folsom Field Finish line. The nerves quickly turn to excitement as we stand still waiting for the gun to go off. 

BOOM

And we are off. My mind goes blank as I begin to weave through the crowds of runners ahead of me. I look around and find my husband close by. My race strategy was to run with him until halfway before deciding what to do next. We link up and begin weaving in and out of runners together.

 We take a left and eventually trace a U in the roads of Boulder heading into a loop with a right on Folsom with my husband giving me pointers along the way as to what terrain was coming up next. It was most helpful to better prepare for another uphill or downhill climb. We bobbed and weaved for quite a while. At times he would be a step ahead of me and at others, I would be a step ahead. It was a lot of fun to experience such a fun and historic race together. We continue ticking off miles and 1ks at a time. Halfway comes and goes, but we stick together. The summit at 5,391 ft elevation comes and goes and we are, again, still together. 

Mile 5 approaches and we are still within steps of one another, but I can tell my legs are starting to get tired, and I can hear my husband’s breathing slowly getting more and more labored. I know that if I want to beat him I cannot make it a sprint to the finish line because he’s 6’3” and I am 5’2”. I am never going to win in that scenario.

I slowly begin to pick it up and I can feel him coming along with me as the real race begins. As we make a right on Folsom to head back to the finish line I see the 5k sign just ahead. I decided at 5k, I am going to push a little harder and begin my marathon “kick” in an attempt to break my husband and keep him from out-kicking me at the end. The sign comes and goes. I begin to push and eventually hear his labored breathing fading, but I keep pushing because I do not want to give him any hope of catching me at the end.

I charge up the first hill to get into Folsom Field, take a right, and sadly continue uphill to the 6-mile sign. At this point, I start to feel sorry for myself because my legs are pissed and I no longer want to run uphill. I keep swinging my arms hoping they will propel me forward and praying that my husband won’t see me struggle and come charging by me.

I finally crest the top of the hill and begin the descent into the stadium, thank the Lord because I don’t know if I had any more uphill left in my little leggies.

This downhill gives me new life as I charge ahead knowing I have less than a quarter mile to the finish line. I am passing while getting passed as I round the corner to head home to the finish line. My arms are pumping, but my old and rusty racing legs have reached maximum speed as I enter the straight away.

One foot in front of the other, I make my way to the finish line crossing in 46 minutes and 47 seconds. I made it and I beat my husband! Holy cow, what a surprise. I turn around searching for him as he comes across the line in 47 minutes and 6 seconds. We were so close!

I don’t know whether to be happy about that or disappointed, but that’s another discussion for another time.

The Aftermath

I had three goals for this race:

1. Finish the race (check)
2. Run sub-8-minute pace (check)
3. Beat my husband (check)

My husband and I congratulated each other and headed to get a refreshing cold beer that was promised after completing the race while we waited for my best friend to find her way to the finish line.

Sitting in Folsom stadium basking in the sun, watching other Bolder Boulder participants finish giving it their all having just completed my first race postpartum drinking a beer with two of my favorite people was the highlight of my weekend. It was the perfect moment. A moment you wish you could freeze in time and take with you as a reminder of your friendship and shared times.

We will see how long my people can keep up as I continue to work my way back postpartum after two babies in 3 years to a sub 2:55 marathon PR.