The one second that matters a lot, or not at all

BMT Recap 

The Boulder is an especially meaningful race for me. I raced my first full BMT in 2009 when I was in 5th grade, and have always dreamed of being a BMT Champion. My race experience now is a lot different than it was over a decade ago, but the hype and festive atmosphere remains one of the most special parts of the weekend. 

A big highlight of BMT weekend is always the Town Sprints, where a short 800m loop is groomed right in town, and each team, composed of one man and one women, race three legs each; the prize being eternal glory and a little bit of cash. My teammate this year was my former GRP teammate, Braden Becker, and we fought hard for a respectable 2nd place finish behind the APU team (Renae Anderson and Ari Endestad). 

Braden and I after our 2nd Place at the Nordic Town Sprints. 

There was some uncertainty about whether the race would even happen given the weather forecast for Saturday. A big winter storm brought lots of wet snow, and race organizers were concerned about road conditions and keeping athletes and volunteers safe. Personally, I wasn’t too worried, since Sun Valley storms tend to underdeliver, and the BMT Race organizers and volunteers tend to overdeliver, so I had faith that the race would go on!  

And it did. 

Saturday morning was dark and snowy and the bus ride from Ketchum to Galena Lodge was slow and bumpy. My warm up was not ideal; my time management was poor and I ended up having about 25 minutes of actual skiing before the gun went off. 

This year’s women’s field was shaping up to be one of the more competitive in a few years, and a good mix of veterans and BMT newbies were ready to battle it out in the snow. The top contenders were two athletes from Utah, who have been dominating the RIMSA and SuperTour circuits. I had a race plan, but as it often goes with races, what happens before the gun goes off is suddenly irrelevant. You either keep up or you don’t. You’re either in it, or you’re not. 

Despite my subpar warm-up, I felt good. I knew from the prickling goosebumps that I had the right combination of determination and good feeling to give the competition a run for their money.  This year, the test was not necessarily an aerobic one, but a technique efficiency and muscular endurance one. The storm left the trail soft and slow, so getting the most glide with the least amount of effort was critical. I chose to let the Utah girls take the lead, and sit behind them, both as a way to get a bit more warm up, but also to let them show their cards a bit. We headed down the Harriman Trail, over the rolling terrain that gradually flattens into a cruising flat by the finish.  

By 4km the lead group was down to four. By 6km; three. And by 9km it was down to two; me and Utah phenom Erica Laven. I was surprised how quickly the field was whittled down, and felt a surge of cautious optimism that a podium finish was almost guaranteed, and the overall win was possible. Erica and I cruised down the trail, putting in a surge for the Preems at 15k and 23k. 

Erica and I at Baker Creek, moving through the back half of the  Elite Men’s wave. 

From Prairie Creek (~11k in) I decided I wanted to lead, which as anyone who has raced the BMT knows, isn’t always the best strategy. It is much easier to sit in someone’s draft and let them do all the hard work in front. But, given the conditions, I knew it would be hard for someone to pass from behind because they would have to go through the much slower powder and risk getting their tips stuck in the berms. I felt comfortable setting the pace, and wanted to take that risk. 

I knew that my strength in the race was behind me (consistent climbing) and my biggest weakness was yet to come (fast finishing sprint), I wanted to put myself in the best position heading into the last 500m, and I wanted to make Erica work hard to get there and get around me. In the end, it wasn’t enough and the final sprint was close, but decisive.  

Elephant in the Room: The Elusive W 

This is the third year in a row I have missed the BMT win by a second or less. It’s hard not to go over each of those finishes over and over in my head and wonder what I could have done differently. It’s hard to see the glancing look of mild sadness on the faces of people who really wanted me to win. It’s hard to be so close, and miss out again, knowing there are 365 days until I get to try again. It's daunting to know that nothing is guaranteed and maybe this year was my best chance and I blew it. It’s a bit haunting to think about each moment that maybe could have been the deciding factor. 

 

But, do you know what isn’t hard?

Feeling loved from the sound of my mom and sister cheering for me at seemingly every point on the course. 

Hugging my dad at the finish line, and internalizing him saying how proud he is of me, even if it’s bittersweet. 

Laughing with friends as we recount the “oh sh*t skiing is hard” realizations from our respective races. 

Smiling at the bald eagle that flew over the finish as the sun strained through the fat snowflakes. 

Connecting with other skiers before and after the race about how epic the snowstorm could be. 

The list goes on. 

I am proud of the way I raced. I am proud of not letting the hype around the “unbeatable” competition dull my confidence. To heck with that! These are my home trails and I could ski them with my eyes closed. I may not win, but I’m sure not going to let anybody run away with it. I love this race. I admire the way it makes me fall in love with skiing all over again and I cherish the way it makes me feel confident and fierce. The BMT for me is the epitome of “winning isn’t everything.” That one second, or 2 hundredths of a second that decides the Champion from best of the rest can feel so big in the moment. For me it is almost worse to be that close, instead of minutes behind, because the margin for error is so small, and any little thing feels like it could have made a difference.  

But that one second that means so much, and carries so much disappointment, also means absolutely nothing at all. 

That one second doesn’t erase the energy of the racers and volunteers, and organizers and community members that all come together to make this race so special. It doesn’t take away from giving my best effort, and being tenacious. It doesn’t take away from a weekend that brings my family and friends together. That second gives me the gift of another reason (as if I needed one) to come back and try again, with even more determination.  

Don’t get me wrong , it’s still my goal to win this race.  And you can bet on it that I’ll be on that start line next year. But if I never win the Boulder, and I am destined to finish ‘almost’, it will just be a footnote to all of the reasons I love skiing this race and wouldn’t trade the rush down the Harriman for anything. And if all that’s not enough, I always have my birthday weekend & groundhog day to fall back on. 

Thank you’s 

I want to say a huge thank you to the BMT Board, the race organizers and all of the volunteers who made this weekend a success. This weekend was a reminder that races don’t just happen, and that there is a lot more going on than just getting athletes from point A to point B. You are the backbone of these races and what makes them possible. 

Next up is Ski to the Sun in the Methow Valley Feb. 8th!