Birkebeiner Nordic Ski Marathon

Two minutes and counting until the gun would sound for the final wave at North America’s largest cross country ski marathon. I cast a puzzled glance at my skis, then to the athlete on my right. “This is going to sound silly, but would you be so kind as to help me put these skis on?”

I’d really meant to train for this event. Unfortunately nobody had bothered to tell me how much precious time would be spent waxing: Layers upon countless layers of wax that wouldn’t see use until the big day. Aside from a one-hour nordic (quite literal) crash course, this would be my first time on skate skis—ever.

So a few weeks ago, when I came to grips with the fact that I wasn’t going to win the Birkie (this year), I began to consider it as a so-called experiment: “Diabetes in the Face of Ambiguous Challenges.” I had no idea how my body would respond to 51km of cross-country skiing, nor which methods of cold-weather testing might keep my blood-glucose levels stable throughout the day.

At 5:00 a.m. things were level, just below 100. I decided it best not to eat breakfast, lest I make a mess of things. Well…the mess made itself. Shortly after arriving to the lodge, I discovered that my skis had been locked in a van whose keys were on an athlete; he was scheduled to race in just a few minutes. Of the goose chases I’ve been a part of, this was among the wildest. Its results were both positive and negative: I’d attained my equipment with less than five minutes to spare, but hadn’t had time to pay attention to my diabetes. It was one minute before a 10:00 race start, five hours since my last test. Since then my blood-sugar had crept up to nearly 300.

The previous week I’d been running a low on 4 units of Lantus, factoring in about 15 miles of biking each day. Though I now had enough food to feed the state of Wisconsin, I knew from experience that racing low is no fun at all. So I administered 2 units of Lantus and decided to ski myself down to normal, despite having to do it on an empty stomach.

If you’re familiar with the Birkie trail elevation , you might guess that it didn’t take too long for things to sort themselves out. At 13km I was awarded with a banana and about 60 carbs for every hour thereafter. This calculation worked extraordinarily well, save one segment of low-200 readings due the late-hitting complexity of a Clif Bar. At 5 hours 47 minutes I finished my first Birkie; my blood-sugar reading was 134.

To the day’s success I would attribute the following:
(1) Beginning with a definite goal + insulin strategy based on related experience;
(2) Willingness to make strategy changes in the face of adversity;
(3) Being prepared with more testing supplies and glucose than I’d considered necessary;
(4) Continual blood-testing and active response to my body’s needs;
(5) Determination to meet the goal set in number 1.


In conclusion, don’t be afraid to face ambiguous challenges if you have diabetes. Only be sure to face them with proper awareness and a positive attitude.