LAKELAND – The rain blurred the trail, and the wind howled against his back. Snowmelt seeped into his boots, making each step heavier than the last.
But more than 100 kilometres of cruel terrain still lay ahead and the night would fall before he reached Oslo.
From steep ridges to climb, and blinding fog thick enough to erase the path – Craig Christensen had two choices - to stop or to get going.
On Feb. 22, Christensen was competing during the Pendlerrennet in Norway. The 33-year-old, who was raised in Mallaig, works as an engineer and has called Norway his home for the past seven years.
For Christensen, the race was more than a competition. To him, the only true opponent was the voice inside his head that repeatedly told him the race was too much and that he couldn’t do it.
He wanted to prove that voice wrong.
He also understood how fleeting opportunities can be. The event happens only once a year. Who knew if he would be fit enough next year or if life would even allow him the chance.
For years, the Pendlerrennet has been in his mind. But many times, he hesitated - and for a good reason.
The race is about 134 km total, with about 2,500 metres of ascents and descents, according to Ådne Skurdal, organizer of the event. It may be a “really low key” and niche race, but “I would say, [the race] is one of the toughest races in the world,” Skurdal said.
To complete the race is no easy feat, he said, noting the ski trail is exposed to various weather conditions too. “It is just as much a mental battle as physical,” said Skurdal. “It will hurt at some point.”
Christensen is no stranger to cross country skiing. He joined a ski team when he studied at the University of Calgary, and his longest ski record was about 75 km. But “130 [km] is a pretty big step up from that.”
Time ticked closer to the event. He still hesitated until, “my friend, Erlend [Moster Knudsen] motivated me to sign up.” The two friends registered just 10 days before the race.
Christensen reasoned that the weather was good. It was cold enough to keep the snow firm, and there were no signs of rain to turn ski trails into a slushy mess.
“But then the forecast changed just three days after that.”
A week before the race and “it just kept getting worse and worse and worse.” There was rain.
This meant, in addition to warmer weather, there could be melting snow, soft trails, and standing water. Conditions that could drain a racer faster and make already steep climbs even more punishing. Headwinds would also slow progress down.
Skurdal said heavy rain cancelled the race last year and the organizers thought of cancelling the race again this year.
“This year, we got the rain on the race day together with quite [the] substantial wind,” he said. “But the participants wanted to go, and we made it possible to complete the race.”
There were 19 racers - 12 who competed in the 130 km category like Christensen, and seven who competed in the 180 km category.
They started at 7 a.m. at the town of Gjøvik. Their destination was Oslo, the capital of Norway.
“It was a climb right from the beginning,” according to Christensen.
He dragged on with the others. He skied with deliberation, conserving energy where he could, and remaining steady when his body begged for rest.
Night fell and even when they reached locations where they could go downhill to speed up the progress, the light bounced against the fog to obscure their path. It was “a little frightening,” he admitted, especially when they had to cross a frozen lake, hoping it wouldn’t crack.
But he wasn’t alone. Having Knudsen with him, and sometimes other racers too, made all the difference. In the long hours of darkness, companions provided reassurance.
It is perhaps this camaraderie built between the small group of racers that Christensen loved the most.
Despite the weather conditions, Christensen said it was not as bad as he thought it would be.
“Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t easy,” he said. It would have been ideal if weather conditions were at least around minus seven degrees, like the week prior, but, “I kept in pretty good spirits most of the way.”
“Cross country skiing is what I love to do, and just having a full day to dedicate to that from dawn to dusk was just a welcome privilege,” he said.
Skiing, for him, is a form of meditation. Growing up in the prairies, he found comfort in long stretches of road, and counting power poles to measure his pace.
It feels the same every time he skis. There is clarity in the struggle and a stillness in the effort. It can be mind-numbing to some, but it is that very aspect that he likes.
“There is just such a meditative zen about these long-distance endurance events that I really crave and love.”
He adds, “I love how calming it is to just focus on the moment [and] not have any distractions from my busy lifestyle.”
The race allowed him to be him. It allowed him to be one with nature.
And after 16 hours of traversing landscapes of ice, he did it. He endured.
Christensen completed one of most grueling races in the world and even placed fifth with his friend, Knudsen.
At the finish line, he realized “the human body and the human spirit is a lot more resilient than I think our comfortable modern lives lead us to believe.”
Of course, for those seeking to push past their limits, or people wanting to test themselves one way or another in life, Christensen still encourages proper preparation.
“I was very free to push as hard as I felt comfortable - or uncomfortable, really,” he said. “It all ended up all good in the end.”
He thanked all who supported and encouraged him, including the race organizers, and his partner who waited at the finish line.
In the end, it was about the act of moving forward one step, one glide, and one breath at a time.
