The TypeTwoFun Club

“Go be in awe of the whole experience and come back better than when you left.”

You sign up for the Iditarod Trail Invitational 11 months before you race it. You start training shortly thereafter, ramping up as the months go by and the weather cools down. It fills your horizon for months as the start date gets closer, taking all your time, your bandwidth, your anxieties. The prep becomes increasingly manic with long days, panic buys, testing gear, obsessively counting calories, measuring every ounce.

But at some point, the race *will* start. At some point, your mindset will shift; it will become real and you’ll realize you’re just about to be *in it*. This moment is different for everyone, and you never quite know when it will hit you. I boarded a plane to Alaska and gazed across the Chugash range as I landed. I went up to big Lake, saw the starting miles, skied the 50K. I came back down to Anchorage, did my final prep. I checked in for the race, went to the welcome party…went to the athlete meeting even. It was great to see everyone and I’m excited to race, but it still wasn’t feeling real on that visceral level. When was I going to switch into race mode?

Checking through my final checklist in my hotel room, one of the last things I do to prep is remove my rings and transfer them onto my safety necklace with my multitool and a whistle. I wear it around my neck whenever I go into the woods in the backcountry—it cuts open many a tuna packet for the pups to finish off. 

I always wear my rings, 24hrs a day, year round. Even here the rings come with, they always come with, but in a safer way for ultracold ITI temps. So I untied the necklace, took off my ring rings and it hit me like an emotional mac truck. Here we go.

Those rings. The last time I was untying that string to get those rings was two years minus 8 days ago. I was in a hotel room in Anchorage, quite similar to the one I am now. I had just been extracted from Rohn after I scratched from the race. I stopped and looked at my frostbitten fingers as I took the rings off the necklace to put them back on. and stopped to document the moment. The emotions were big: relief, exhaustion, pride…just a hint of regret starting to sneak in around the edges of the frame. The knowledge that if things had gone a little bit differently, I probably could have done it. Could I have done it?

Today, an hour ago, I was forcibly launched back into the emotions of that moment. And now, I’m here, on the cusp of my opportunity to answer my own question. Being back here at the starting line was NOT guaranteed. From injury to illness to finances to just life, there are a million obstacles to getting to the start of a unique race like ITI. There is no “well, I’m only half prepared but I guess I’ll just start and see how it goes” here. There is no rescue crew. You are your only option. You have to know you are ready.

I know.

I am ready.

Let’s go do this.