Hell of a start, eh? Bolder Boulder report

There's not much to say after running my slowest standalone 10K ever. Seriously, I've split faster on the end of triathlons than I did at the Bolder Boulder yesterday. And, appropriately enough, the story at the Boulder Daily Camera (http://www.dailycamera.com/news/2009/may/25/bolder-boulder-kicks-cool-dry-weather/) refers to "No-excuses weather."

Right, no excuses other than my own shoddy training. I've run seven times since the St. Louis Marathon, and while that time was (supposed to have been) spent reacquainting myself with the bike and the pool, I still should have had a little more jump than I did, given what my final time was. For the record it goes in the books as a 48:34, exactly six minutes slower than I ran in 2003. Yesterday it was low 50s and cloudy with no wind, while six years ago it was mid 70s and sunny. There's the fact that I started in the third wave of the day in 2003, meaning I had no more than 600 people on the course ahead of me, but I know how to run in thick crowds, which I did in 1995 when I ran a 46:07 while starting in one of the last waves (I signed up two days before the race).

I stayed the night at my friend Jen's condo, located a 10-minute drive from the start line. We parked at her office and had a little jog to the start line. The starters this year were University of Colorado athletics director Mike Bohn and 2008 Olympic steeplechaser Jenny Barringer, a CU alum. My wave started and I stayed to the outside because the first two turns tend to be pretty crowded. Naturally, I couldn't help but be caught up in the energy of the pack and I easily ran 7:25 for the first mile. After the race, Jen and I looked at an elevation profile of the course and, surprise, the first mile is all downhill. There's maybe 200 feet in variation between the course's lowest point (at about 1.25 miles) and the highest (around 5), but there's still going to be gravity conspiring with momentum to jack with my intended pace.

Onward. I slowed down quite a bit for the second mile as the race turned into north Boulder's residential areas. That's where some hills start. So, really, I didn't need to slow myself down as I had gravity helping me out. And I had my own muscle rebellion to help out. The last two miles of the race felt like the last 300 of an 800-meter run. Even on the last two hills, up into Folsom Field for the big stadium finish, the muscle fibers wouldn't fire. As Phil Liggett would say, channeling "Star Trek" while calling the Tour de France: "Control to engine room, we need more power. Engine room to control, there's nothing to give."

The start I'm referring to is the official start of my Ironman Wisconsin training. While I've long since accepted that a Kona spot just ain't happening this year, it's still discouraging to know how far I have to go. Granted, a flat-out 10k is in no way an indication of what it will take to roll through an Ironman marathon, but it's discouraging nonetheless.

Where do I go from here? The open roads...