Stephen Clark participated in the 51st American Birkebeiner – Photo provided
Submitted by Stephen Clark
CABLE – A week ago I finished my 15th American Birkebeiner––a cross-country ski race that begins in Cable and ends in downtown Hayward. At some point during the race it occurred to me that after 15 Birkies (and two Korties––the shorter version) I should be able to say something about this thing that draws people from all 50 states and almost as many countries––the largest cross-country ski race in North America. So, I started writing this article in my head––a very nice distraction indeed! Here’s the result after trying to translate my race brain thoughts to the written word.
I always forget just how difficult the Birkie is.
So, why am I doing this? And how come I’m being passed by a lot of skiers so early in the race? Yes, I once again made the mistake of going out too fast but I’m starting to fade after just 10 kilometers! Usually that mistake doesn’t catch up with me till about the gravel pit where I get to see my friends from Polk County (who have been volunteering at that aid station for as long as I can remember). I can’t blame it on my wax either, as my descents seem no slower than the others in this Wave 2. I’m mostly being passed on the uphill sections which are usually my strength. Why did I think I could hang with the leaders in this Wave? What the hell is wrong with me?
Okay, pay no attention to the people passing. Look at their fancy ski suits. They’re just young punks. They’re probably going out too fast and will fade soon enough. Who cares anyway, I’m only competing against myself. What’s that acronym? RECORD? Yes, focus on the R––try to relax. The race is long, so if I don’t settle into a relaxed pace my technique will look as sloppy as my clothing (I love the Nifty Thrifty).
Okay, now Envision. Envision a strong finish. Do I still dare envision finishing in 3 hours? No that was a ridiculous goal. Maybe 3:30? Sure, I’d be happy with that. Have I even skied 50 km. this entire season? No. What the hell is wrong with me?
But thank God I didn’t bike up here! That would have been a disaster. Camping last night in the back of the car also can’t be used as an excuse. I slept well enough. And being in the parking lot where the bus takes you to the start was very convenient and low stress. But I should have made coffee! Why did I think they would have any at the start?
Stop the negativity Stephen. Time to focus on the C––Celebrate! Look around you. All these amazing human beings on skis! The lovely snow! The awesome trees! And might that be a bit of sun trying to break through the clouds? What a miracle this whole event is. What a miracle every day is! Every life! Every breath! “The trees are drawing me near, got to find out why …” Pull me up this hill tree, thank you, thank you!
What’s the O in RECORD? Oh yeah, obliviate––not just overcome obstacles but obliviate them! Forget you are tired, forget you didn’t get any caffeine! Forget you were throwing up and feared the norovirus just three days earlier! Conquer through obliviation! Poof! All negativity/excuses are wiped out of existence!
Maybe it’s time for the second R. Reach! Reach and receive. I already did it with the trees back there at that insanely steep and long hill climb. Those trees really did help me get to the top. But maybe it’s time to start talking to fellow skiers? We are social creatures! Why are we doing this? Fellowship? YES! But what to say?
“I always forget how difficult this thing is.”
“Yeah, the hills are real killers,” says she.
“Yeah, but the hardest part is over, right?”
“Sure. All downhill from here!” as another climb comes into view.
We sort of laugh. I feel better, maybe she does too. I reached, she reached. We both received. Success.
Okay, still more than half the race to go and I’m running out of things to occupy my thoughts. Need to do something to keep going. Humming! Yes, I will start humming to the tune of the “Ants Go Marching.” Only I will change it in my mind to “the skiers go gliding, hurrah, hurrah!”
Why am I being passed by Wave 3 skiers? They started a full 15 minutes after me! Is this going to be my worst performance ever? Why didn’t I get more skiing in this year? What is wrong with me?
And now even some Wave 4 skiers are blasting by me!
Who’s that couple over there? They seem to know me! They seem even excited!
“Way to go Steve!”
“Frank Lundeen! Holy cow and you have something for me!”
“Sure, energy drink! Take your pick!”
“Thanks, Frank! Great to see you guys!”
That was sure a bright orange drink. Probably not 100% natural but tasty! And now I feel charged up just by seeing Frank and his wife. Shoot, I didn’t really acknowledge her. What’s her name again? Oh gosh, I can’t even remember! Dang race brain fog … But wow, that was reviving for sure. Didn’t even have to reach for it. In the middle of nowhere? How did Frank even get to that location? I wonder how many of his other friends have already blown by; he’s probably thinking I’m over the hill. I should have done the Kortie.
How much further is it? Can I pick up my pace? Hey, there’s that number 2500 again! I guess there are still a number of Wave 2 skiers in my range––they haven’t all abandoned me.
“Hey, there you are again 2588! I pass you, then you pass me, then I pass you …”
“I guess so! What a great bib number 2500! Did you have to pay extra for that?”
“I sure did! Yes, pretty cool number ‘eh?”
Awhile later I’m wondering what happened to 2500. Did I get ahead of him or he ahead of me? No idea. But then, there he is again and says:
“We might just end up having to sprint down Main Street and whoever loses buys the beer!”
“Okay, sure!” I reply.
I never see him again but try to maintain (continuing to hum …) a steady pace. I continue to remind myself to relax, envision, celebrate, obliviate and …
I see the big lake before the town! Only what … something like 5 kilometers to go? I can do this! It’s time for the D! Time to Deliver! Time to dig in deep (think Jesse Diggins) and DELIVER! Do it, I can do it! I can, I can!
And there’s Frank again! And … yes, Rebecca! That’s her name, same as my niece.
“Go Steve!”
“Thanks Frank and Rebecca!”
Nobody passes me on the lake. I pass a few here and there. Now for the final climb up the bridge and onto Main Street. I am exhausted. But people are screaming and cheering as if I and all the skiers around me are some kind of heroes. My utter demoralization from being passed by a thousand people begins to dissipate. I give it everything I have the remaining four blocks to the finish line––nothing to be left in the tank! I cross it, nearly collapse and see that my time is not as bad as I feared it would be. Better than at least three of the 15 Birkies I have done, 3:43:18.
And as I cross the finish line I even forget about the three or four excuses I kept in my back pocket and already thinking about––no not next year––way too soon for that. But getting home and collapsing into first a hot bath, then a comfy bed.
Then it dawns on me, my niece is Rachel, not Rebecca. It was Frank and Rachel! Oh, darn race brain, screwing up again! I will have to apologize for screwing up her name.
And once again, I am not at all sad that I drove up instead of bicycling. Thank goodness for my body fooling me into thinking that maybe I had the norovirus!
