That old, familiar feeling.

This is a video from a while ago. It was recently sent to me by the person wearing the knit touque in the frame. She, her husband and their daughter are all on the sled with me driving around our property.

Because of the confidentiality of the blog format – I mean, who reads this thing, anyway? – I’m going to tell a little secret: I’m not all that competitive.  At least, I don’t think I am.  I used to be, in high school and perhaps a little in college, but I no longer have the desire to be better than anyone, to show up those around me or to have accolades showered upon me because of my abilities.  In fact, I often joke when asked why we race the dogs that it is to justify having them to Jenn; she being the more practical one in the relationship.  As with most jokes, this is funny because there is a degree of truth in it, but it should be explained that this is the old answer.  It is the old answer because we – at least, I – have learned a few things in the past few weeks.  It’s not only fun to race but it’s really fun to do well. 

In the past four weeks Jenn and I have doubled our race experience.  Initially, we had planned to go to races to get the dogs used to crowds, noises and the things that come with racing.  We hadn’t planned to compete at all but when we completed our first race this season, Jenn began, almost immediately, to scheme and plan for the next race.  She rearranged dogs in the team, she swapped this dog for that dog, this position for that position and even went as far as to call me at work to say “Don’t forget.  We’re training dogs tonight!  I want them ready for next weekend.”  In short, she kind of went all ‘drill sergeant’ on me.   

When we started to get into dogs, to really get into dogs, it was in Whitehorse and I was helping train a Yukon Quest team for a local musher.  The Quest is the sort of race where just finishing is an accomplishment, so being competitive is secondary to the race itself, unless one plans on being in the top five.  I guess that, coupled with the fact that I just like to get out on the sled had led to a complacency of sorts where going to races was not high on my list of things to do with the dogs.  In fact, I have spent the past two winters (this one not included) putting miles on the dogs in much the same manner as I would have for the Quest team, but I had no Quest to go to.  I could call them training runs but, really, they weren’t.  We just went out for runs.

This year, though, after Jenn’s successful race at the Markstay-Warren last winter and after some gentle prodding from everyone around me, we decided to attend a few races.  Kearney was lots of fun; we hung around with friends and ran our dogs on incredible trails all weekend.  The next race, Cannington, promised to be more of the same so a few days after Kearney, we both found ourselves looking forward to this weekend and when it finally arrived, we were packed and on the road early and full of excitement.

The races went really well.  Jenn had an incredible run on the first day and managed to clinch third place when her race was over.  It was an exciting finish, too: three teams came over the hill towards the finish line and Jenn was in the process of passing them both when they veered off the trail and tried to duck around the timer’s truck.  Jenn just gave a simple “Gee side!  On by!” command and her team sped across the finish line ahead of the other two.  Her official time for the four mile race was eleven minutes and six seconds.

Her second day was not as stellar: warm temperatures and snow the consistency of flour held the team back a bit.  Jenn’s fall off the sled didn’t help speed things up either, but she recovered quickly and managed to finish in fourth spot overall for the weekend.  Jenn’s third race ever and she had cracked the top five standings. It netted her a two hundred dollar prize at the awards ceremony.

My team was not as speedy.  I ran the six dog, six mile race and although we have dogs from distance racing lines, I still managed to finish in seventh spot the first day and eighth spot overall on the second.

The best thing about the races was the buzz we created, though.  There was a small timing error for Jenn’s race and a lot of other racers thought that the wrong time had been attributed to Jenn.  “Don’t they have distance dogs?  How come they finished so high?”  one musher was overheard saying.  “They have really good dogs, that’s why.” Our friend countered back.  It had Jenn worried for the second day’s race though, because she wanted to make sure that the wrong time hadn’t been given to her.  Considering the trail conditions and the wipeout, a second-day time of eleven minutes and thirty nine seconds more than shows Jenn’s time was correct.

Adding to the buzz was the end of my second day race.  While most teams were coming across the finish line looking tired and were led to their trucks by a handler, I finished my race and handed my race bib to the trail help as I went past.  Instead of leading my dogs to the truck, Jenn jumped on one of the runners, while I stood on the other and the dogs pulled us both up a hill to the truck taking their ‘gee’ and ‘on by’ commands like pros.  A few people asked if we needed help, offering to lead our dogs, but we said we were okay.  It was a small thing, all things considered, but I know it didn’t go unnoticed.  I can hardly wait for the longer races next year.

Nope, I’m not competitive anymore.

Jenn, on day two of the race. She came in strong over the finish line and just as I was going to help the dogs past the people, she had a tangle that I had to sort out. It isn’t an action packed video, but at least you get a glimpse of her team in action.