TheAmerican Birkebeiner50K cross-country ski race starts in 10 minutes.
we yell to each other, and then head to our respective start groups.
Thirty seconds later, the gun goes off.
Annie Pokorny
Between racers, family members, volunteers and spectators, more than 40,000 people participate.
Race organizers truck snow into downtown Hayward and turn Main Street into a ski trail.
Six months ago, we met by chance at a trail-running race.
Annie Pokorny
Two days later, we parted ways with a plan to ski the American Birkebeiner.
For starters, we were training nearly 1,000 miles apartAriella in western Colorado, and Annie in central Idaho.
Instead of group runs and gym sessions, we had brief phone calls and rambling text chains.
Annie Pokorny
Then there was the issue of snowor lack thereof.
This winter was the wests worst (least snowy) on record inmore than 30 years.
My passion for outdoor endurance sports has always outmatched my actual fitness.
Im naturally unathletic, and I hate training.
Id much rather go for a slow, meandering run than do interval workouts or hill repeats.
What am I supposed to do?
She asked me if I had ever been ski bounding.
Theres a video of the U.S.
I think Im in it.
Ill send it to you.
I felt like an adolescent giraffe.
The next day, everything hurt.
Do you usually …?
and WTF are we getting ourselves into?
I probably would have backed out of the race altogether had it not been for Annies constant reassurance.
As the race drew closer, that reassurance turned to commiseration.
Annie:When it came time for race sign up, pride was my vice.
I didnt understand entering a race that I couldnt win.
Sometimes I couldnt even bear to get out on my skis.
But then, there was Ariella.
Our training conversations became almost constant.
But neither of us let on that we thought about quitting.
I definitely did not have time to go to the bathroom.
This will be a physical and emotional journey, but at least I have fast skis.
Ariella / Waiting for Wave 5 start (9:15 A.M.):My toes are numb.
The act is both strange and totally normal in this environment.
Ariella / Start (9:45 A.M.):I enter the start pen along with several hundred other skiers.
Someone fires up a megaphone and starts counting down from 30.
A gun goes off, and everyone starts to move.
A competitive fire urges me to light it up and toast these suckers.
The less-competitive person Im trying to become suggests that I instead have a snack.
Begrudgingly, I listen to the latter voice.
My body knows what to do.
I feel at home.
Annie / 30K (11:00 A.M.):All of the people I am skiing with are men.
I see only two or three other women in the first wave with me.
A couple of guys get into a tangle on a hill and begin cursing each other.
I fire past them and fume about how they are taking themselves too seriously.
It occurs to me that maybe I had been doing the same.
I now have 20K to calm down, have fun, enjoy this experience.
Ariella / 10K (11:04 A.M.):Im finally starting to warm up.
I skate to the edge of the trail and take the hand warmers out of my gloves.
A man skis by wearing split shorts and a cape.
Annie / 42K (11:35 A.M.):System overload.
Should not have skipped feed station.
I see a sign that says Finish like youre Jessie Diggins going for gold.
It all starts with this finish.
Annie/ 49.99 K (12:09 P.M.):Faceplant.
I trip over my own pole just feet from the finish line and crash hard into the slushy snow.
This proves to be my final test of humility.
Annie / (looking up Ariellas place on course):Food.
The finish suddenly seems very far away.
I sing Hot Hot Hot in my head as a distraction.
Annie/ post finish:Water.
They hoot and holler as skiers fly around the corner.
I focus all of my energy on staying upright.
Cheers erupt, followed by oooh as a skier behind me takes a diving faceplant.
Annie/ Post finish:Beer.
Ariella / 40K (1:50 P.M.):Aid station number six.
My stomach has settled.
Orange slices are the best thing I have tasted, ever.
Annie/ post finish:My athlete tracker tells me that Ariella should arrive in the next 20 minutes.
Ariella / 41K (1:55 P.M.):Single digits!
I am basically at the finish.
Time to stop worrying about calories and electrolytes and just enjoy these last kilometers.
Ariella / 42K (2:08 P.M.):Spoke too soon.
Is it a bad one?
a fellow skier nods my way.
Yep, I respond.
Same thing just happened to me, he says, sympathetically.
I tear open my waist pack and down a gel and half of my bottle of electrolyte mix.
Annie:Uh oh, her times are slowing down.
Ariella / 45K (2:25 P.M.):Everything is painful and slow.
My right quad keeps shaking uncontrollably.
I down another gel and more electrolyte mix.
People pass me and glance over with concern.
Annie:Watching Ariellas tracker paused at 8K to finish, I fear for the worst.
Shes going to hate the sport, this idea, and me for getting her here.
like, ski gods, let me see her crest the finish area soon.
Ariella / 48K (2:40 P.M.):The course emerges onto a frozen lake.
People have dragged out lawn chairs, blankets and coolers.
They clap and cheer as we limp past.
The crowd starts to grow, and I attempt to muster some semblance of form.
From the top of the bridge, I look down straight ahead to the finish line four blocks away.
I search the faces, wondering if Annie is somewhere among them.
Annie:The entire finish area erupts when we see Ariella crest the bridge into the finish.
I ski into her without stopping, and immediately realize that Im going to be fine.
Holy shit!, I yell.
We just skied the Birkie!
