Psst, this is part 3, there are part 1 and 2 that you should also read if you haven’t already 🙂

Day 3 – 33.4 km.

Fortunately, Frederik and I were assigned a tent late in the afternoon on day 2 and could sleep well in a cold tent. I went to bed already at 10 p.m., wrapped myself in Inequs’s fantastic sleeping bag, and listened to people around me in their tents chatting about the day’s adventures, funny experiences in Greenlandic, Danish, English, and other languages.

Occasionally, I could hear someone snoring, others coughing, and a couple of snowmobiles passing by. I had fallen asleep when Frederik, very late after preparing our skis for the last day, crawled in, and wrapped himself in his sleeping bag. I slept very well, only waking up a couple of times needing to change position (you need to when lying on hard surfaces, even though we had reindeer skins as a base).

At 6:30 a.m., I woke up and couldn’t sleep anymore. The weather seemed fine from inside the tent. The focus today is just to reach the finish line in Sisimiut. I felt good, not nervous, and excited but calm. Frederik is still sleeping, and I pack my things and leave the tent. The weather is fine, a few clouds here and there, and no wind. Good start.

I join those who, like me, have gotten up early in the dining tent to have breakfast. I prepare my marathon porridge (oatmeal, blue poppy seeds, cinnamon, and honey mixed with boiling water to form porridge, topped with banana slices), make a strong cup of coffee, and sit with Adam, Nivi, and others.

Ugh, the breakfast grows in my mouth and is so hard to swallow. It’s as if it grows in my mouth and turns into a dried bun. I know I MUST eat, or I won’t survive the trip to Sisimiut (end up with famine in the middle of the hinterland, being such a thin little thing like me), so with small sips, I force the food down.

Sitting and enjoying with the others in the tent.

The ACR jury announces that the race is postponed by an hour as the groomers need to prepare the track first.

I start to feel queasy, the butterflies in my stomach start again, and I am excited and nervous. Can I endure the distance? Can I live up to my own expectations and maintain my position? Oh, my self-confidence starts to play tricks on me. “Today is the day you fail,” “You can’t keep going,” “Who do you think you are? The world champions?” “Relax!!” etc. run through my mind, tormenting me, and making me feel physically ill.

Several visits to the toilet, which doesn’t make it better because you get poisoned and chemically contaminated by entering those toilets, hahahahahahah.

But the weather is getting better and better, wow.badser

J I know it will get much better when we start. That’s how it always is, and even more so when it’s the last day, and we must reach the goal in Sisimiut. You’re faster, more energetic, and stronger.

3, 2, 1 GO…

We line up at the start and are off. A bit chaotic start for some. Just behind me, I hear Marie Fleischer screaming and see that she has lost her pole and stops to go back and get it, and everyone else pushes forward and just wants to get going and home. It doesn’t take long before Marie Fleischer overtakes me again, going full speed downhill 😊

We zoom past the first refreshment station down by the sea towards Sisimiut and continue the long stage towards the bone breaker. I quickly overtake Marie Fleischer again, who is standing and fixing her skis. The journey all the way to the bone breaker is tough, and there is no glide, so it’s alternating between double-poling and diagonal, to spare and allow breaks for the various muscles used in the body.

I catch up with Nivi Geisler just before we turn at the bone breaker and follow her to the refreshment station.

 It seems like the leader changes after the bone breaker, and the skis start gliding better. When you reach the bone breaker, you must climb a hill and then turn and go down a loooong downhill that is not steep but has enough slope to gain speed and go down in a long, cool downhill. And here I jump into the tracks, gaining speed on my skis and skiing far and fast down the hill with a screaming “wuuuhuuuuuuuuuu.” Naaah nuan.

When I reach the second refreshment station, I follow Nivi Geisler and a couple of others I don’t know who they are. I fill my water bottle with energy drink and continue right away. Nivi must follow a boy from Kaassassuk, so I slip away from them. Driving fast and overtaking in front of me,

Driving fast and catching up

In front of me, far ahead, I can see an NSP suit driving, and I think “I have to catch up with that person.” I get closer and closer, and just before the refreshment station at the “Bottleneck”, I catch up with the person, who is Pavia Tobiassen. I get a sip of water and follow all the way up the “Bottleneck” with Arnatsiaq Rosing (❤️)

We catch up with Vittus Heilmann and a couple of others on the way up the bottleneck.

he sun is shining and the clouds have completely disappeared, the temperature around minus 3-4 and no wind, nuaaannnn. I say goodbye to Arnatsiaq, who runs the 160 km. and turns around and drives down the bottleneck. It’s aaaweeesssooommmeeee, full speed ahead, control and great weather, can it get any better. I looooove it!!!!! I scream the whole way down “wwuuuuuuuuhhhuuuu”.

I get down to the drink station, hurry to get a refill and race on. There are 4 km ahead of me to the drink station out by the lift, the last drink station before the finish, jubiiii.

I drive alone for a while. The fantastic thing about such a race is that you often become so humbled by being such a small piece in a gigantic country. The whole thing is so overwhelmingly beautiful that you are often moved.

Suddenly I am not alone, Vittus Heilmann has caught up to me and we run together to the lift, in silence.

From the drinks station in the lift and most of the way into Sisimiut, we rite together, taking turns as the lead. I am strong uphill and Vittus downhill. And while we are running in our own thoughts and fighting a little against each other, we are both caught up to by someone from behind. We are both surprised and increase the speed up when it dawns on us that it is Martin Møller and the Australian 😆😆

Yaaay crossing the line

I am happy, proud, and have surprised myself. Seriously, I didn’t expect to be able to drive so fast, but I did it!!

Best of all, I’m glad that I could get to the top of the podium in the 100 km race so that my sponsors hopefully think it’s worth supporting me. Many thanks to AutoNord and Modulo.

Thank you for reading 😘

Please feel free to share.

On Saturday, March 30, we all woke up to the most fantastic weather – bright sunshine, a temperature of minus 3 degrees, and no wind. Completely in line with how I’ve behaved throughout the year 🤣🤣 It’s my birthday!

NOOOOOOT, it was windy, cold, whiteout, and totally disappointing.

Frederik and I were so “unfortunate” not to get a tent the night before, as chaos had erupted in their distribution. So, at 9:00 PM, we still hadn’t received a tent, and everyone else was beginning to go to bed 😨😨 It ended with us being “forced” to lay down on soft mattresses in the heated tent and spend the night there 😶😶 Bummer, we just say 🤣

Postponement Due to Weather

I woke up at 7:00 AM to the sound of the large tent rattling and swaying in the wind outside, and my first thought was, “Oh no, we have to face crappy weather.”

I got up and went over to have breakfast and start getting ready slowly. I could feel that the weather was affecting me, making me nervous in a strange way. Stomachache, no appetite, a bit down, and uncontrollable butterflies in my stomach. Thoughts of delays, no trails, and challenging gusts were not the most motivating to have in my mind.

As I entered the dining tent and met many of my fellow ACR participants, I sensed the same in them. Many had empty looks in their eyes, some had near-death expressions, others sat completely still staring into nothingness, and some pretended to be fresh and happy. A few vocalized what the rest of us were thinking, “I hope they cancel the race today.”

We ate breakfast side by side without saying much. And while we were sitting there, it was announced that the race start would be delayed by an hour so the snow groomers could make the trails. But we should all expect that the weather would likely distort the tracks. Oh no, we have to go out in that weather and ride on crappy trails. While we sat there waiting, my wonderful friends broke into a birthday song for me, “inuuissiortoq pilluarit.”

Day 2 – 32.2 km.

A little before 11:00 AM, we all stood ready on the starting line, shivering from the cold and nervous. Ahead of us, with a 100 km race, there were 32.2 km before we were back in the camp.

We were sent off at 11:00 AM. It was a crappy start, and in the first 10 km, I mostly wanted to stop. I had a hard time getting into gear and couldn’t catch up with Marie F, Nivi Geisler, and Anne Mette (who was always far enough ahead of me that it was almost impossible to catch them).

The route for the day was reversed from the previous day. First down to the drink station by the sea towards Sisimiut (3.5 km) and onto the long stage towards the bone breaker and back to the drink station (9 km). The first 10 km were terrible, and I hated it. I really tried to keep my head up and just ride. I was very frustrated that there were no trails and that visibility was so terrible. I managed to catch up with the three girls at the drink station after the bone breaker, but they managed to leave before I was ready again, aaargghh.

The thought of the bottleneck, up and down, the journey towards the lift, the downhill behind the lift, and the drive across the terrain to the camp, I could hardly bear. Fuuuck, what a crappy trip. But I didn’t let go of the girls; I could always see them, and suddenly our veteran Vittus Heilmann appeared. What?? Then I got a little more energy. I overtook Vittus just before the drink station below the bottleneck, and caught up with the girls at the start of the uphill. And suddenly I had unseen strength, and bang, I blasted up the mountain. (picture of Mik mik …)

It was so cool, and I was not tired at any time, had plenty of strength and energy.

I overtook a lot and could turn and ride down again without anyone near me or right behind me. But just at the moment when I wanted to ride down to the place where there was “Skiis off” (too steep and safety irresponsible to ride – about 400 m), the clouds turned a special color due to the sun (which was not out), so you couldn’t see contours or shapes at all. Everything was completely whiteout; I couldn’t see up or down. Aaaargh, and I was going down a hill.

I survived the stage down to the drink station again, filled my water bottle with new energy drink. I asked how far it was to the next drink station and was told it was 4 km. Great! It’s manageable… If only I could see something. From the drink station and halfway I drove without knowing where I was because there were no tracks, very deep snow, and no visibility. Fortunately, I could see the flags, but several times I doubted whether I was on the right side because the snow was so deep and there were no tracks. I drove completely alone and got a little scared at one point because the weather was insane.

But fortunately, a snowmobile came and made tracks, so I had something to relate to up to the lift.

When I reached the lift, I was told that I was number 2 and that there was only one ahead of me. Wooow, and I think Pavia. Quickly, I get a refill and hurry on. I remember that we had a pretty steep climb behind the ski lift the day before, and now that I couldn’t see contours, I felt a little nervous about the downhill when I reached the hill. Very uncertain, slow, and cautious, I make my way down the first downhills, praying to two people I’m sure are sitting and watching me from the sky, to take care of me and survive them, phheeew. 🙏 Thank you ❤️

 I reach the bottom, and now I know there are only 4 km left until I’m in the camp, yay. I struggle through and across the terrain towards the last drink station, which is 1.8 km from the camp. I get a sip of water and am about to set off when I am overtaken by Ulrik Helimann, yay my buddy.

We finish hand in hand. It turns out it’s not Pavia who reached the finish before us, but a 160 km runner who had downgraded. This means that Ulrik and I were the first to finish, wuhuuuu.

Wonderful treatment in the camp

I get changed, get my toes fixed by the nurse, get a massage and am ready to eat. I sit in the food tent and am greeted by the loveliest family, the Lings, who bring me cake and a present. Aww you guys are amazing ❤️

Today’s angels

It is certainly first and foremost nurse Jørgen and physio Irene, but it is also absolutely the Lings family with their children, who were so thoughtful and sweet to bring cake and a gift. And then of course there is Frederik Lundblad, who had prepared the perfect skis for me again. THAAAANK YOOOU!

Have fun at camp. day 2

It takes time to write, so sorry folks, continuation will follow in part 3 in a few days, thanks for your attention.

Having already embarked on a challenging cross-country skiing adventure earlier this year, participating in this year’s Arctic Circle Race wasn’t just a casual endeavor for me; it was more of a “why not make it awesome” project. I had decided that I would only join if I could enter a lottery at work to cover the registration fee. I thought my chances were good, considering I had seen only a handful of colleagues on the slopes in the past few months. Exciting…

Oh no, suddenly 15 other colleagues appeared, all tuned up and ready for cross-country skiing. WTF?? 😳

I wasn’t selected 🙁

Instead, Pavia Tobiassen, who had been selected for the past 10 years, got the spot! So, my participation was dropped, and I could slowly start rebuilding a normal life with daily routines and family time. Besides, I felt incredibly tired after the Birkebeiner, so…

But a good friend, Frederik Lundblad, who was participating, didn’t accept that I wasn’t joining and asked me to think of an alternative. So I did 😬

Sponsorships

I remembered that the world’s best car workshop (my car’s workshop) with the coolest and nicest mechanics had sponsored an ACXR runner before. I thought, “Why not give it a try; it doesn’t hurt to ask.” So, before going to bed one night, a week before ACR, I sent them an email, asking if it was possible to get a sponsorship for the registration fee. When I woke up the next day, I had a response: “That sounds like a good idea,” yaaaaaaay! 😄😄.

A few hours later, I also got a sponsorship from Greenland’s best IT company, Modulo.

Wuuuhuuuu, it was all falling into place. A sweet friend, Bodil Marie, arranged accommodation for Frederik and me in Sisimiut, another wonderful friend, Evi, provided reindeer skins as sleeping pads, and my lovely Inequ lent me her sleeping bag.

I could now seriously start preparing.

I needed to find new poles or a replacement for the one I broke during the Birkebeiner, consider whether to buy new ski boots (worn and damaged) or trust that the old ones could handle 100 km, fix my shell jacket (the zipper had broken), and get the last few things I needed (water bottles, thermal underwear, and gloves).

Frederik Lundblad gave me a ski pole that matched the other one, I sewed my ski boots and hoped they would hold up for 100 km, my mother, who was visiting me, sewed a new zipper into my shell jacket, and I received excellent service and support for buying a water bottle, thermal clothing, and gloves from Ittu.net. I love yoooooooooou!! I am very grateful for all the help and very happy and proud to be supported as I have been, THANK YOU!

 Now I had no excuses, I was ready.

Arrival in Sisimiut

I arrived in Sisimiut on Wednesday, March 27th, around lunchtime. The sun was shining from a cloudless sky, and the temperature was around minus 10, just perfect. I dropped off my luggage at the family I would be staying with, put on my ski gear, and headed out onto the trails in Sisimiut.

Thursday morning, I woke up early and made a good, hearty chicken soup with lots of vegetables that I could take to the camp.

The day was to be spent shopping for some food, participating in the procession to the church, and attending the briefing at Taseralik. Frederik arrived already in the morning.

The procession was at 3:30 PM, and the church service at 4:00 PM (a solid tradition to be a part of).

Then we all went back to Taseralik for the briefing about the race. Here, they presented the routes for all three days, the rules of the race, and the safety measures in place.

First Day – 34.6 km

I woke up Friday morning at 7:00 AM, feeling completely rested and calm. I showered and got ready slowly and steadily. I felt good and took everything in stride. Of course, there was the occasional flutter of excitement in my stomach, but it was controlled. And you know what, this isn’t like me. I would have been in a panic, shaking with fear, having stomachaches, going to the toilet all the time, calling my husband to ask if it’s normal for me to feel this way (and he would say, yes, ALWAYS), and just wanting to go home again. But not this morning 😇 😳

The weather was okay, windy, but the sun appeared, and the temperature was around minus 7. Frederik spent a lot of time waxing our skis, almost forgetting to eat breakfast. Everything was packed, and we headed down to the arena.

At 10:00 AM, we were shot off by the mayor, Malik Berthelsen. We ran the traditional round, around and up “Kvajebakken” (aka the girl’s hill), fortunately didn’t fall, and were set free into the wilderness.

The route for the day would take us past the ski lift, up the bottleneck, down the bottleneck, towards the leg breaker, all the way down to the sea towards Sisimiut, and up to the camp. Total 34.6 km. I prefer to break my run into parts. The first thing I wanted to focus on was getting to the ski lift (7.1 km from the arena), I wouldn’t think about the rest. I caught up with my lovely little competitor, Marie Fleischer, about 3-4 km after the start, who was busy fixing something on her skis. I felt good and was not at all stressed, calmly taking it ( 🙏 totally zen) and had the energy to focus on having a good experience of the day’s stage.

The drink station at the ski lift is on a small hill, so when you have to continue from there, you have to go down a hill. On this hill, due to the weather, the biggest Big Air ever had been built (maybe 30-40 cm high), which surprised me, and for a split second, I was doing the wildest ski jump. Hahahahaahah 😂😂😂

I survived and continued towards the bottleneck. One of the uphill (and also downhill) I had been nervous about was the climb up the bottleneck. Because in this season and on the Birkebeiner, I had felt really weak uphill. We reach the up hill, and further up, I see Pavia Tobiassen. Woow, I have caught up with him 😊 2 km herringbone uphill/climbing. It went well; I stayed behind the guys and made it up. But fuuuuck, it was hard on the legs. The 160 km runners continued up, and we turned and had to go down again.

It was windy, and the wind was cold. This had created a nice and steep hill down to a natural mogul hill 😱. Mounds that had grown large enough that you couldn’t plow down or just ski down quietly. Suddenly, I was on that mogul hill, jumping around, screaming. I was terrified and at the same time almost getting cramps in my thighs from plowing and trying to brake.

Fortunately and coincidentally, at some point, I regained control and could stop. OMG, I was shaking all over and needed a moment to collect myself. I took off my skis and ran the rest of the way.

From the drink station at the bottom of the bottleneck to the drink station before turning towards the leg breaker, there are 6 km. And all the tracks were covered, so it was really strenuous to ski. Along the way, I had to go down a hill, which is okay and not steep, but because of the drifts on the track, I lose control and tumble. I don’t just tumble; I roll around, and my skis are everywhere around me. I just manage to think, “fortunately, I’m alone, and no one saw me,” hurriedly stand up when I hear and see a dogsled driver cheering and clapping at me, 😂😂.

I reached the last stage of the day that I had prepared myself to be tough and just needed to get through. A stage of 9 km, a looooong stage that goes up and down, the kind that pulls teeth and sucks the remaining energy out of you. But luckily, I know the route from previous years and prepared well for it. BUT, of course, there had to be a “little” twist on the route that almost killed me. I had just celebrated that it was only a kilometer down to the sea when the route suddenly turned towards the land and back, leading me steeply up a hill, just to make a “sweet and funny little loop” before reaching the last drink station. Shiiiiiit, my only reaction was shouting “Nooooo, whyyyyyy????” I was accompanied by Ulrik Heilmann, who looked back at me with the same expression on his face as I had.

At that point, I had no more to drink, was completely dehydrated, and had zero energy. It felt like we were in the middle of the Sahara Desert, covering many many kilometers, extremely thirsty, and looking like Jim Carrey. “Ulrik, do you have some waaaater?” Luckily, he had some energy drink in his camelback, so we stopped to drink.

I crossed the finish line just after Ulrik Heilmann, after 4 hours of wild adventures, where I alternately felt fantastic, felt bad, was damn tired, and energetic on the way.

Angels of the Day

The angels of the day were a young guy named Jens Joorut, who noticed that I was struggling when I came dragging with Frederik Lundblad and my large bags. Like a true gentleman, he came running and offered to take both bags and carry them into the clothing tent, FANTASTIC! Qujanaq!

The other was physiotherapy Irene and her massage assistant. Irene took good care of my tendons near my bad knee, and I got a real massage.

And my kammak (companion) Frederik is the biggest star because he is who he is, but also because he had prepared the perfect skis for me.

Camp Fun, Day 1

To be continued in part 2 in a couple of days, thank you for your attention.

6 awful hours and 37 crappy minutes, but I did it! Damn, I suffered the entire way.

I broke my ski pole after 2 km from the start, and at that point, I was ready to flip everything off and quit. However, turning back and skiing against the traffic (with around 17,000 registered runners) seemed too cumbersome, so I pushed on.

 The weather was fantastic, around freezing, mostly clear with beautiful sunlight. Damn, I was so hot, I was sure I was going to die from sweat and heatstroke. At one point, I pulled over to the side to shed some layers, but quickly realized i struggled too much.

I skied 8 km with a pole that was 40 cm shorter 😨 but borrowed a new one from the SWIX pole center (which there were several of along the way), and the new one was 5 cm too long 😲 😨.

The first 15 km were the toughest, with a 15 km climb (killer hill, go home) and a body exhausted from the start.

Along the way, I decided to stop several times; everything hurt, the exhaustion was unbearable, and the thought of another 45-40 km completely drained my courage and hope. From start to finish, I had a massive negative inner dialogue (actually in the days leading up to it, and I didn’t sleep the night before the race due to thoughts and fantasies of terrible downhills), and I was terrified of the downhill, which was the last 10 km. The entire way, I worried about that down hill.

When I reached the first peak after 1 hour and 17 minutes, I had to slow down and take a much-needed breaks. I completely let go of time and competition and had to decide to go into survival mode. I skied at a 🐌 pace (thinking of Lasse and Inequ’s Kilimanjaro mountain climb, where they walked very slow. That was me… 😳). When, after the hellish uphill, I pulled over to have an energy gel and energy drink, I was completely drained of energy and finished.

The short break, energy gel, and energy drink gave me some strength back, and I could continue. Seriously, I thought I was going crazy, losing my mind at some point because I was so tired, struggling with my inner dialogue and couldn’t get control of it, and realized I had to let go of what I had expected (to have a great trip, aside from the down hill). But Magdaline’s energy pills in my water bottle became my therapy. Every sip felt liberating and good 😂😂. I was saved this time. The first downhill, up in the mountains, was absolutely amazing!!!

A looooong downhill where you could see the end flat out, and the speed down was absolutely fantastic. “Wuuuhuuuuuuuuu,” I screamed all the way. 👈 The first high and joy of the day. The only downside to that downhill was all the trash (empty energy gel packets on the tracks) that the elite had thrown on the way down 👎. First of all, it’s littering in the beautiful nature, but also dangerous for the rest of us, as the trash was in the tracks and slowed us down significantly on the way down.

From the start, I had prepared myself for the first 15 km to be tough (but was not prepared at all for them to be so tough 😳😨), but I had 27 km as a milestone since it was halfway, and from there it would be a countdown. When I reached 27 km, the second high of the day was in the bag, and I shouted “yaaaaaaaayy” loudly, so the poor skiers around me were terribly startled (you ski in silence) 😂😂. 27 is my new favorite number now!

Long beautiful stretches, lovely long downhills and up again, up at the top of the mountain. Bright sunny weather, such beautiful surroundings, mountains, trees, and perfect temperature (another high), aaah nuann (which is our motto 😂😂).

From Sjusøen (last refreshment post), there are about 10-12 km to the finish, and it goes downhill; oh oh my screeeeeam 😱😱. Now I had to face my biggest fear. I had to focus on 1 km at a time and just survive the insane hills. Here I really needed my personal drama-hill-coach Jacob Nitter, who could talk me “right.”

But I had to manage on my own. The first long insane hill surprised me completely, and I ONLY made it down to the bottom alive by sheer luck. No tracks down, but two narrow plowed tracks, a steep and winding hill where you had to turn in the middle of it all, aaaarggh 😱. I screamed and shouted like Marie Fleischer (😂😂 😘😘), but made it, alive, to the bottom of this hill.

The next 2-3 hills, I chose to take off my skis and run down (😩😩), but for heaven’s sake, I couldn’t get the skis back on and spent a crazy amount of time and tears on it. Sorry, Frederik Lundblad, I didn’t listen to your advice “Don’t think, just ride” and I was totally “nallinnaq!!”, hahahaha.

Just as expected (and what I had asked for through my thoughts and emotions), I got my 4 terrible and dreadful hills. But, I did it, and I survived 👋✌.

The last 3-4 km were absolutely fantastic and just about getting through with a body exhausted from lack of sleep, fear, shock, and physical activity.

I crossed the finish line in Lillehammer, 6 hours and 37 minutes after starting from Rena. Along the way, I cursed cross-country skiing far away, definitely never wanted to ski again, especially not such crazy trips (ACR included), and crossfit Open also got its share 😂😂👌👌

The day after… grateful, proud, and happy. It’s great to go on trips like this with friends ❤

Thanks for reading.