Birkie Fever- the American Birkebeiner Race Report

(Cont from Birkie Weekend post)...

Finally, it was the big day.  Though we thought through departure and traffic timelines, the parking and bussing was all a bit slower that anticipated.  Upon arriving, I ran out of the car and into the line, using the bus ride to change boots, put on my hydration pack, and get myself ready to race.  That was a good choice as I essentially walked off the bus and over to the gear check.  I had enough time to arrive at the starting line calm and collected, but no extra time to take in the scene or get a photo of the start area.  All in all, this quick transition forced me to commit to my layers and not overthink the details.

I joined Wave 4 as we ran from one pen to the starting area, laying down my skis about 6 people back from the starting line.  Once the gun went off, I quickly found my stride and fell into the first line of uphill skiers.  As advised by many experienced Birkie skiers, it was best to line up to ski up the hills. And as expected, that is super annoying to follow a tight crowd with poles and skis nearly overlapping at each slow step.  I don’t recall much of the Powerline Hills, probably because I had my head down looking for potential trouble the entire time.

I skipped the first two aid stations, thinking that I could get nutrition out of my pocket (I couldn’t) and water from my insulated camelsback (it froze within 15 mins).  I was worried to already be 15K in and getting behind, but I made a strong effort at next 3 aid stations which was good enough to keep me afloat.  I definitely wouldn’t recommend carrying your own feeds as the aid stations- though busy- are easy to access the things you need.  

Around the 30K mark, I started skiing down the wrong trail after an aid station, heading toward the classic race course!  I came back through the powder to the main track as a friend looked on with concern and laughter.  Margaret is an inspiring skier from Boise whom I was hoping to train and ski with at the race, so it was funny that she witnessed me taking that wrong turn.  I was thrilled when we encountered each other several times on the course.  She is the nicest racer- showing me the better snow and telling funny stories as we ski. I was surprised as she launched into the story of her pilot with the faulty brake systems, but I also appreciated the lightness of the moment.  

I can recall clips of the race in my mind's eye, but it all melds together as the terrain is never ending rolling hills and deciduous trees with sun filtering through.  Only as we got over Bitch Hill, past the Hatchery and into the last 10K does the race experience sharpen up a bit.  I felt strong on B Hill, having seen it on Wednesday. I skied confidently through the 10K mark and past the aid station at 8K to go.  I worried about the last 30mins of the race, but the aid station looked way to crowded for me; also it was downhill which meant you would have to climb back up to the trail.  At that point, I was pretty over the uphill thing.  

We skied over a bridge, down the icy trail by the highway, and I was certain we would hit the lake soon.  At 4K there was another climb- not steep but fairly long- which was a surprise when one is expecting the flat terrain of a frozen lake.  Finally, at 3k to go, we descended onto the lake!  Skiing on windblown grooming with a noticeable change in pole planting medium (ice is weird to pole-plant into)  and a strong headwind as predicted.  I tucked in with a group, but latched onto the windstream of anyone going by just a touch faster.  Coming into the final bridge climb, I was amazed how many spectators saw and cheered for me with my First Birkie badge.  Skiing up the ramp wasn't so hard, and even looking down the steeper descent was way less intimidating than I expected.  I finished strong with the express goal of passing one last gentleman in a teal spandex one-piece race suit just before the finish line.  

I was happy to be done but didn't have big strong feelings about the race yet.  Only after finding friends, eating, drinking, comparing notes on the race experience, and even dreaming about the race in weirdly detailed analysis kilometer by kilometer,  I have come to the conclusion that it was- in fact- a very fun race!  As much as I resisted it, I think I may have the Birkie Fever.

Finishing on Main Street