Gratitude at the Birkie

The American Birkiebeiner is a race I look forward to coming to each year. 

Another great experience in 2025 has me reflecting on why this race feels so special. Each time I venture to the Northwoods, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I have done numerous races in my career. I feel gratitude for the satisfaction of getting to test my body and mind each time I toe the line in a race, and the opportunity to expand my experience of what I am capable of. But at the Birkie, this goes deeper than that. This persists despite low snow years, broken poles and upset stomachs, frigid temps and physical suffering. The only thing that I can think of that remains constant relative to these variables, is the people that the Birkie attracts.

The Birkie creates an environment of collective gratitude. In my opinion, the individual spirit of each competitor, organizer, and volunteer in this race burns brighter as it is fueled by the stoke of those around, setting the stage for a fire that is this Birkie Fever. As I sense the collective appreciation for the fun that is getting to push our bodies to ski fast on skis, I become more in tune with the joy and gratitude I feel for ski racing in myself. This is the ultimate platform for me to be my best as both a person and as an athlete, and why I will compete at the Birkie for years to come, no matter what the race actually looks like.

This year I made the intention to step into this aspect of cross country ski racing. I wanted to make the most of the environment cultivated when a bunch of people with a similar appreciation for doing something physically and mentally challenging, come together. In particular at this event, I set a goal to stop and let myself admire how cool the entire Birkie experience is, and connect with the many familiar faces I’d run into along the way, knowing that this instills a lot of joy within myself.

As for the racing, my objective remained consistent with that of the last few years: To shoot my shot, and stay with the lead pack for as long as possible. The only way to compete for the podium is to be in the lead pack when it evidently explodes, and to have the strength and positioning to be on the front end of this when it happens. The speed of the lead pack is well beyond what I would be putting out on my own, and therefore I am willing to put myself completely under even if it means I can stay with the leaders for a few more minutes. The reality is that I am constantly feathering the line between a sustainable and unsustainable pace when skiing in the pack. A few more minutes may be enough to allow me to recover back into a state where I can then hold on even deeper into the race, or allow me to reach terrain where skiing mid pack suddenly becomes very efficient, again achieving the same purpose. 

In my experience, the alternative strategy of saving energy and letting the pack go before the point of no return, ensures no possibility of a podium. With this mentality, I shot my shot and stayed with the leaders over Fire Tower and well on my way into Double O. In my past Birkies, Fire Tower and Double O have been the defining points in the race. However, this year I let my head get in front of my body per say, and began thinking about positioning going into the second prime at Double O, which is a natural launchpad for a race splitting move, rather than where I was in the moment. I happened to be at the back of the lead pack, feeling the full brunt of the yo-yoing as we skied through the downhill, yet oscillating terrain. 

Acceleration and speed are a weakness of mine, and my complacency put me in a position where these weaknesses were on full display. The elastic finally snapped over one of these kickers and I spent 5 minutes at a maximum effort attempting to bridge the gap and move myself back towards the front of the pack where the pace is more consistent. I bridged a few times, but never managed to position myself within the pack to where I could have the chance to recover. Eventually they skied away and I was left alone.

The feeling of race objectives being lost while still in a race is challenging to come back from. It takes some real mental fortitude to reframe your mindset into accepting the current state and engaging the best you have from whatever that is. I struggled with this for the rest of the race. However, I was proud to have the awareness while still racing to realize that my goals were not lost, and in fact I had achieved what I had set out to do and that was to shoot my shot, even if it meant blowing up. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have some negativity or doubt within myself, but there were also moments where I felt I was able to properly reframe and remind myself that the battle in mind at that very moment is what energizes me, and is the growth that I’m looking for in myself as I pursue these endurance events. This realization in itself, helped me stay engaged competitively and survive the best I could. I rode this to the line as I held onto the competitors coming around me for as long as possible.

A big thanks to the thousands of organizers, volunteers, and racers that make this race the experience that it is. It’s each one of these people that together create this so Birkie Fever, and the space that inspires me to put my best foot forward as both a competitor and an athlete. See you next year!