The Torch

Flew back into Burlington yesterday afternoon after a five day boondoggle with Peter and Steve out in northern Wisconsin. As we travelled north to Hayward, WI, it became clear to me that the people of Wisconsin have a lot in common with the people of Vermont, but after surveying the scene at the start line of the American Birkebeiner, I realized that nowhere else will you find  10,000 + skiers in  -30 degree windchill with unquestionable enthusiasm for the 50 kilometers they are about to endure. Many of these people were starting this race conscious of the fact that it would take them until sundown to finish the course. Still, they smiled, joked, jumped around, and waited for the gun to go off so they could join the fun out on the course. Since it was our first year competing, we started in Wave 9, which is essentially last out of the 10,000 skiers. The elite skiers go off first, in the freshly groomed snow, then a stampede of skiers, 500 every 5 minutes, goes off behind them. As you might imagine, the course fills up pretty quickly with skiers of all ages and skill levels. Starting in the back of the pack was like trying to run a marathon in Times Square on New Year's Eve. For the first 20k, there was barely any space to operate and going up hills everyone would line up and basically walk up hills. It frustratingly slow but I did my best to maneuver through people and work my way into the faster waves of skiers ahead. There was another pretty quick skier from the University of Minnesota that was in wave 9 who also seemed intent on getting through the traffic, so I tucked in behind him and followed him as best as I could. After 15k or so, we had made it through wave 7 and 8, and were now starting to be able to use our speed a little better. While we were enduring a painfully slow pace, it was incredibly fun weaving in and out of people like an F1 car and cherishing any opening that we got. GRP skier, Gordon Vermeer, who finished as the 6th American this weekend, lent me a pair of his skis for the race, and I got to say, it was a huge difference. I felt like the skis were taking me along for a ride. I also felt like they allowed me to ski better technically. When I was not dead stopped being people,  I was concentrating on keeping my tempo up, keeping it light, and just covering distance while keeping efficient breathing. I knew what it felt like to bonk in the Craftsbury Marathon and that certainly informed me for this race.  By the half way point at 25 k, the Minnesota skier and myself were well into Wave 5 and moving fast. I stopped at the feed station for water and a few Vanilla Wafers(!!). The Min. skier did not stop and I lost him. But, I would see him again. If you're paying attention kids, don't do what he did. Always stop at the feed station! We had been racing for about 100 minutes at that point and I was feeling pretty good, but I know that the 120 min mark and after is when things start to get hairy. You need to be very careful about continuing to eat and drink. It's amazing how good/confident you can feel at the 2 hr mark, only to find 10 minutes or 20 minutes later that you have completely bonked. After the half way point, I enjoyed the scenery and the ambience of the course. More often than not, when I passed someone they would yell something like, " WAVE 9!? Go get 'em!" or " Is that a NINER!?" haha, it was pretty funny and encouraging. Later in the race, I would pass a couple skiing together from wave 3 and the man would say, " Hey pal, what does it feel like to pass 8,000 people? Get outta here!" Well, its a pretty slow way to race but its absolutely hilarious. It's like taking all of the rowers at the Head of the Charles, regardless of age and skill level, and starting someone in the Champ single in the back. So, at the 40k mark, after not seeing the Minnesota skier for a while, I saw him right ahead of me and closed in on him. I said, " Hey man, Wave 9! " He was not having it. He had arrived in Bonk city and had no interest in talking to me. I cruised past him and never saw him again. Make sure to always stop at the feed station, kids. At the three hour mark, things were beginning to tingle a little bit, and I dug deep. Plenty of people ask me why I am doing races like this, and when I think about it, the answer is pretty simple: to train myself to endure no matter what. No matter the sport, the situation, the discomfort, just endure. There is not a more uncomfortable place to be than the last 30 minutes of a 200 min race. I am only as good as my slowest speed or my worst stroke. The final 2k is over a lake that goes right into the town of Hayward for the finish. There was a 15-20 mph headwind on the lake which made for a very unpleasant final stretch. I think when most skiers saw 2k to go, they were comforted by that small distance--surely they were almost there. I saw that 2k to go sign and immediately knew just how much pain can be caused over 2000m. I was nowhere close to finished. As I got off the lake and onto the Hayward main street lined with people, I felt pretty excited to be crossing the line amongst Wave 2 skiers and the first Waver niner. I finished in 3 hrs 23 min. It was a very slow year but given all of the hold ups, I was pleased with that. Peter finished in 3 hrs and 55 min. Steve finished in 3 hrs 45 min. I'm already excited to come back next year and improve.

Now that we are back in Craftsbury, it's back to work for 10 days before we head south to Clemson for the 6 weeks leading into NSR1. We will be doing a bunch of erg testing over the next few days to get some final bench marks for the winter. As for today, another ski race this afternoon...it never stops!

main street in Hayward, WI.