Birkie Fever!

Embracing the Joy of Race Day 

We are 1 week from Birkie Week, and trust me, time flies and suddenly it will be race day. We all have a different path to get to the start line and different goals once we are there. No matter if you are trying to win the race, or just trying to finish, a few things hold true no matter your level of skiing. 

Race day is the culmination of hard work, many hours of training, mental preparation, and sacrifices on our time and energy. Being at the start line is an exciting place to be! We get to see the reward of whatever journey brought us here, and we get to share that excitement with hundreds of other people who might have different goals, but nevertheless share a common purpose. 

More and more I approach racing and training as an enormous privilege. Not many people have the opportunity to spend so much of their time (and $$) to go skiing recreationally, and fewer still can dedicate the majority of their time to skiing competitively at a high level. Wherever you fall on that spectrum, I think the joy of racing lies in both its scarcity (relatively few races compared to hours trained), and its ability to clarify what makes Nordic skiing the meaningful thing we have all decided is worthwhile to spend our time doing.   

My best Birkie finish (9th) in 2023, racing for Craftsbury GRP.  

It is hard not to be a little nervous on race day. Skiing up to the start line is the moment of truth on our preparations for the big day; did I train enough? (or too much?), is my fueling strategy going to work? will my skis feel good? will I get too cold? etc..; When I feel the nerves start to creep up, I tell myself “I am as ready as I can be at this moment.” There is no use dwelling on what you could have done better leading up to the start  - there is just what you can do NOW to be in the right mindset to have fun (or at least type-2 fun) and enjoy your ski down the beautiful Birkebeiner trails. Performance matters and I’m not going to pretend that it isn’t an important goal for a lot of people who ski. I race to perform my best, to win, to do the best I absolutely can. But I also race because I inherently love the challenge, the vast community of friends I get to train with, and the lessons that I’ve learned from reaching and falling short of my goals. I live for the long skis on perfect corduroy as the sun sets behind the mountains, for the breathless (L2) gossip sessions, and the shared acceptance of being all-in in a pretty niche and somewhat nerdy sport. 

And that is why race day is clarifying for me; It reminds me that while I love competing at a high level, my foundational “why” has so little to do with my results so much more to do with all of the moments that contributed to putting on a bib. 

What is your “Why”?  

Why do you race? Why do you ski? What brings you here that will outlast the number on the results? 

It could be related to competitiveness, performance, and ambition. But I’d bet that if you took those away, there would be something far more durable and meaningful; community, friendship, self-fulfillment, connection with nature, connection with family, etc… that provides the foundation for your ‘why’ . 

That is why I love racing the Birkie; no matter what my result, I have always come away with a smile on my face. Even last year, when I was disappointed in my race, I still knew immediately that I would be back this year. The energy at the Birkie is electric, and I always feel lifted up by the positivity from all of the other participants. All along the course there are people cheering, and every year I hear people yelling for me by name even though I had no idea who they are. 

I remember after my first Birkie in 2022, I was blown away by the sense of community and sense of connection to all the skiers who had come before me. After the race, I got a text from my dad saying "congratulations"; I may have fallen short of my personal result goal, but I had officially ascended the throne with the best Birkie finish in the family. I ended up spending some time scrolling through results from three decades ago, recognizing so many names of people I grew up around (local legends) or parents of kids I grew up skiing with. The continuity between generations was inspiring and it made me feel that, although my goals were competitive, I had participated in something much larger than just a ski race. 

My goal is for everyone who races the Birkie to remember their “why” long after the race is over. When you are sipping your post-race beer at the Sawmill and regaling your friends with tales of your epic bonk at 30k (been there, done that!) I hope your ‘why’ is still at the forefront of your mind, woven tightly with the moments of beautiful suffering that for some reason we can’t get enough of. 

At the end of the day, we are all just going in circles through the woods in silly skin-tight spandex outfits; so we really shouldn’t take ourselves too seriously! I cannot wait to be back in Hayward this year, and I look forward to seeing all of you on the trails.