On February 24th, we drove 6 hours to Hayward, Wisconsin to experience the American Birkebeiner weekend. Our trip was special because we got to reconnect with our Alaskan friends, Barb and Mike Kelly, who had just retired and moved to Hayward. Barb took us out for a ski on the Hatchery trails soon after we arrived. Those trails connected to the Birkie trail, so we got to ski on that for a bit. It was impressive--very wide, immaculately groomed, and HILLY. I tried to take it super easy because I was signed up to race on Saturday in the 23 kilometer Korteloppet (short loop). The full Birkie is 50K skating and 54K classic. I'm so grateful to the guys in the PENS club who advised me to sign up for the Kortie rather than the full Birkie. With our lack of snow in Fargo, it was difficult to get enough skiing in to be ready. The longest distance I could build up to was 15K, which I did twice, along with as many shorter skis as I could fit in. I also ran regularly with Noko and worked out at the gym. Still, I didn't feel very prepared, and I was nervous.
Mike made me a great breakfast on Saturday morning--eggs, bacon, toast, and potatoes. Then, Enrico and the boys drove me up to Telemark resort. I thought they would just drop me off, but they were able to find parking right in front of the lodge, so they were able to walk me to the race start. I was glad they were there because I was nervous. I was placed in Wave 9, which was the second to last wave. I lined up with all the other people in Wave 9, maybe 2-300 skiers. Everyone was pretty relaxed, but also anxious to get started. Everyone had their little stretches and jumping around while we were waiting. All of a sudden, I heard some Italian on the loudspeaker: "Buona fortuna, Mamma Kelly! Italia, North Dakota." I saw Enrico up on the podium and laughed. "Grazie!" I shouted. A little while later, I heard a shy voice say, "I like cows. Good luck, mom." Max had climbed up on the podium and asked to speak in the microphone. There were several little messages like this. It gave a personal feel to a very big race. Over 9000 skiers were signed up for the Birkie.
We counted down all together and started. It was slow and easy at first, no one was in a huge rush--there was a general feeling of camaraderie. We skied on fairly flat ground until we made the first left turn, and then telegraph hill stood before us--a daunting series of steep pitches with less steep pitches every so often. After one look up, I decided to concentrate on the few yards in front of me and focus on not getting my heart rate too high. The people around me seemed to have a similar idea. We moved at a reasonable pace, not succumbing to herringbone, but not sprinting up the hill either. As we got closer to the top, we could hear drums, which seemed to pull us up and up. I found myself smiling, I was just so happy to be out on skis with so many other skiers on a beautiful day.
Once we reached to top of the hill, skiers began jockeying for position, and I did too, following behind another skier until I thought maybe I could pass them. The Ks flew by with the constant attention to the crowd, to positioning. Once we got to some downhills, I was extra observant. On one hill, I could see a skier crashed below me. I waited for a bit before proceeding so he could get himself up and off to the side. The downhills were not nearly as bad as I thought they would be. There was plenty of soft, new snow, so there were no especially icy sections, though some slippery section appeared on especially steep pitches where the skiers who came before me had snowplowed all the soft snow out of the way. Nevertheless, the conditions were outstanding considering the thousands of skiers who had started before me.
When we reached the first aid station, we were greeted by Mardi gras decorations and music. I grabbed an energy drink, paused for a few seconds to down as much as I could and then continued. Shortly after this, I found a woman in a striped hat who was going at about the same speed as I was. I dropped in behind her and followed along. She had good technique and kept to a steady pace, and soon I found myself in what is called a state of "flow." I was no longer aware that I was breathing hard and my heart was pounding--I just skied. The sun came out, and my glide wax was perfect--I easily caught up to the skiers in front of me on every downhill because of my good glide (and maybe also because of the extra 10 pounds I gained this winter). This continued for several kilometers.
We separated from the main Birkie trail and were off on the separate, narrower Kortie trail. It was wide enough for two skate skiers and one classic skier. This made passing a bit tricky. At one point, a slow skier got between me and the woman I was following, and I lost contact with her. Now I was seeing a lot of bibs from the 8th wave, the 7th wave, even the 6th wave. It made passing tricky--there were a lot of different speeds and ability levels. Some skiers were stopping on the uphills for a few seconds to get their breath.
At one point Laura Holien, one of the NDSU skiers passed me. I had not seen any kilometer markers for awhile, and I wondered how much further I had to go. I was definitely getting tired. I was happy to see the third aid station, and I stopped for a packet of "goo." I really needed it at that point. My excellent breakfast had long been used up. I kept going, though, and when I saw some spectators on the trail, I though I might be getting near the end. They shouted, "This is the last hill," and I was so grateful to hear that. My quads were burning. My technique was starting to go. Once I crested the hill, I had to really focus on the downhill because I wasn't sure I had total control of my leg muscles anymore. I made the downhill all right, and then I heard, "Go, Mama Kelly!" I turned and saw my husband and kids by a pine tree, cheering me on, and I tried to pick up the pace for the final spring to the finish line. There was a tiny uphill right before the finish line, and I just thought, "Ugh." I got up it though, and made it through the finish. I had a big smile on my face. I had finished!
Soon Enrico and the boys found me, and as I hugged each one, I hung on them a little bit. I was getting a cramp in my left quad. Enrico led me to the tent, and I got a bowl of chicken noodle soup. The salty broth was the most delicious tasting thing in the world at that moment, and I could feel my leg cramp easing up. I got my time--1 hour 54 minutes. 17th out of 38 women in my age group. I was content with my effort. I don't think I could have done it any faster.
Later that day, we went to downtown Hayward and watched the finishers of the Birkie. What a sight! For hour after hour, skiers continued to ski down main street to the finish line. The crowds were full of cross-country skiers, cross country skis were propped up everywhere, including a big pile in front of a local pub. We wandered around, taking in the sights, and visited the gallery in the Old Library, where Barb and Mike had a photo exhibit. When we got back to Barb and Mike's house, they all went for a ski, and I took a shower then had a short nap. We all went out for Vietnamese food that night.
We left on Sunday, with plans to return again next year.
Mike made me a great breakfast on Saturday morning--eggs, bacon, toast, and potatoes. Then, Enrico and the boys drove me up to Telemark resort. I thought they would just drop me off, but they were able to find parking right in front of the lodge, so they were able to walk me to the race start. I was glad they were there because I was nervous. I was placed in Wave 9, which was the second to last wave. I lined up with all the other people in Wave 9, maybe 2-300 skiers. Everyone was pretty relaxed, but also anxious to get started. Everyone had their little stretches and jumping around while we were waiting. All of a sudden, I heard some Italian on the loudspeaker: "Buona fortuna, Mamma Kelly! Italia, North Dakota." I saw Enrico up on the podium and laughed. "Grazie!" I shouted. A little while later, I heard a shy voice say, "I like cows. Good luck, mom." Max had climbed up on the podium and asked to speak in the microphone. There were several little messages like this. It gave a personal feel to a very big race. Over 9000 skiers were signed up for the Birkie.
We counted down all together and started. It was slow and easy at first, no one was in a huge rush--there was a general feeling of camaraderie. We skied on fairly flat ground until we made the first left turn, and then telegraph hill stood before us--a daunting series of steep pitches with less steep pitches every so often. After one look up, I decided to concentrate on the few yards in front of me and focus on not getting my heart rate too high. The people around me seemed to have a similar idea. We moved at a reasonable pace, not succumbing to herringbone, but not sprinting up the hill either. As we got closer to the top, we could hear drums, which seemed to pull us up and up. I found myself smiling, I was just so happy to be out on skis with so many other skiers on a beautiful day.
Once we reached to top of the hill, skiers began jockeying for position, and I did too, following behind another skier until I thought maybe I could pass them. The Ks flew by with the constant attention to the crowd, to positioning. Once we got to some downhills, I was extra observant. On one hill, I could see a skier crashed below me. I waited for a bit before proceeding so he could get himself up and off to the side. The downhills were not nearly as bad as I thought they would be. There was plenty of soft, new snow, so there were no especially icy sections, though some slippery section appeared on especially steep pitches where the skiers who came before me had snowplowed all the soft snow out of the way. Nevertheless, the conditions were outstanding considering the thousands of skiers who had started before me.
When we reached the first aid station, we were greeted by Mardi gras decorations and music. I grabbed an energy drink, paused for a few seconds to down as much as I could and then continued. Shortly after this, I found a woman in a striped hat who was going at about the same speed as I was. I dropped in behind her and followed along. She had good technique and kept to a steady pace, and soon I found myself in what is called a state of "flow." I was no longer aware that I was breathing hard and my heart was pounding--I just skied. The sun came out, and my glide wax was perfect--I easily caught up to the skiers in front of me on every downhill because of my good glide (and maybe also because of the extra 10 pounds I gained this winter). This continued for several kilometers.
We separated from the main Birkie trail and were off on the separate, narrower Kortie trail. It was wide enough for two skate skiers and one classic skier. This made passing a bit tricky. At one point, a slow skier got between me and the woman I was following, and I lost contact with her. Now I was seeing a lot of bibs from the 8th wave, the 7th wave, even the 6th wave. It made passing tricky--there were a lot of different speeds and ability levels. Some skiers were stopping on the uphills for a few seconds to get their breath.
At one point Laura Holien, one of the NDSU skiers passed me. I had not seen any kilometer markers for awhile, and I wondered how much further I had to go. I was definitely getting tired. I was happy to see the third aid station, and I stopped for a packet of "goo." I really needed it at that point. My excellent breakfast had long been used up. I kept going, though, and when I saw some spectators on the trail, I though I might be getting near the end. They shouted, "This is the last hill," and I was so grateful to hear that. My quads were burning. My technique was starting to go. Once I crested the hill, I had to really focus on the downhill because I wasn't sure I had total control of my leg muscles anymore. I made the downhill all right, and then I heard, "Go, Mama Kelly!" I turned and saw my husband and kids by a pine tree, cheering me on, and I tried to pick up the pace for the final spring to the finish line. There was a tiny uphill right before the finish line, and I just thought, "Ugh." I got up it though, and made it through the finish. I had a big smile on my face. I had finished!
Soon Enrico and the boys found me, and as I hugged each one, I hung on them a little bit. I was getting a cramp in my left quad. Enrico led me to the tent, and I got a bowl of chicken noodle soup. The salty broth was the most delicious tasting thing in the world at that moment, and I could feel my leg cramp easing up. I got my time--1 hour 54 minutes. 17th out of 38 women in my age group. I was content with my effort. I don't think I could have done it any faster.
Later that day, we went to downtown Hayward and watched the finishers of the Birkie. What a sight! For hour after hour, skiers continued to ski down main street to the finish line. The crowds were full of cross-country skiers, cross country skis were propped up everywhere, including a big pile in front of a local pub. We wandered around, taking in the sights, and visited the gallery in the Old Library, where Barb and Mike had a photo exhibit. When we got back to Barb and Mike's house, they all went for a ski, and I took a shower then had a short nap. We all went out for Vietnamese food that night.
