Health & Injuries

Anna Berington’s feet are a shade shorter than her sister Kristy’s. It’s one of the only differences between the identical twins, dogsled mushers, and avid runners, and it comes with a story that puts most lost-toenail yarns to shame. Eight years ago in a dogsled race bedeviled by minus-55-degree temperatures, Anna developed frostbite, requiring a surgeon to trim the tips off her big toes. The injury hasn’t stopped her from competing in half marathons, marathons, and sled races alongside or, more accurately, against her sister.

On March 17, the twins finished the Iditarod, the epic 1,000-plus-mile Alaskan trek from anchorage to Nome. Kristy finished 39th (of 71 finishers), just 13 seconds ahead of Anna. It was Kristy’s seventh and Anna’s fifth time doing the race. “It’s a friendly rivalry,” says Kristy, who is older by five minutes. “I’m a little bit more competitive. When it comes to the end, I will race her.”

In truth, though, the Berington sisters, 32, are far from adversaries: Each is the other’s best friend and training partner—on and off the sleds. The twins run year-round and race in road and trail events during mushing’s off-season. They’ve done a marathon and five half marathons together (Kristy’s PR of 1:45 beats her sister’s by four minutes). Last year, Kristy tried a 24-hour ultra—and won. This summer, they have a half marathon and marathon on their race calendars.

“Running goes hand-in-hand with dog mushing,” Kristy says. Anna estimates that she runs 100 miles over the course of the roughly 10-day Iditarod. A sled loaded with gear and a musher can get heavy, so getting off and running alongside the sled gives the dogs a break. A musher may even push the sled for a bit, which Anna compares to running with a baby stroller, except “you’re in winter boots and a parka.” Which gets to the other reason why the Beringtons run as much as they can during the race. “Just standing on the sled gets cold,” Anna says. “The best way to stay warm is to stay active.”

In a good week, the sisters log 50 miles. Sometimes, it’s 11 p.m. before they hit the trails. Fitting in training runs can be tough because their lives revolve around the care of 75 Alaskan huskies. The twins operate Seeing Double Sled Dog Racing, a kennel in tiny Knik, Alaska, about 20 miles from the nearest town, Wasilla. Twenty-five of the dogs are their own; 50 belong to fellow Iditarod racer Scott Janssen. On most days they wake at 6 a.m. to begin the cycle of feeding, cleaning, grinding meat, taking the dogs on sled runs (or ATV runs, if there’s no snow) that range from 20 to 80 miles, and then returning to the kennel and feeding again.

“We’re their coaches, mentors, nutritionists, massage therapists,” Kristy says. “The dogs can’t foam roll after a long run like we can—we massage their muscles for them. They’re our family. I don’t like to use the ‘F’ word around the dogs”—favorite—“but I have more respect for our lead dogs because you’re asking them to go above and beyond.” The perks for leaders like Jonah, who has done seven Iditarods, include hanging out in the twins’ small two-bedroom house and enjoying cuddle time during races. “Outside at the checkpoints I’ll go lie with him in the straw, put my arm around him, and take a nap,” Kristy says.

Those kinds of personal touches have won over Janssen, a funeral director by day who began working with the Beringtons in 2011, when he made his Iditarod debut. “Even though I am quite confident in my dog skills, I still defer to Kristy and Anna,” he says. “I’ve learned over the years to really trust them. Everything they do comes from their love of the dogs.”

The Beringtons grew up along the frosty coast of Lake Superior in Port Wing, Wisconsin, on a 20-acre property that at various points was also home to cows, horses, chickens, cats, and dogs. “They learned work ethic and that you’ve got to take care of your animals,” says their mother, Jan, who still lives in Wisconsin with two dogs and a cat. They also have an older sister (by five years) named Kat, who helps Kristy and Anna run their website and has attended all of their Iditarod starts. “All three of us went swimming in the same gene pool but dove into different ends,” says Kat, who works in finance in Toronto. “We’re all very driven.”

When Kristy and Anna were 10, a neighbor introduced them to dogsled racing. By high school, they had grown to six feet tall and were competing in track, cross country, volleyball, and basketball. After graduating, they had a stint in the Army National Guard and wound up living a somewhat nomadic lifestyle. For a period they slept in a tent in the Sierra Nevada while working as ranch hands during the summer and dog handlers at a ski resort in the winter. In 2007, a chance meeting with former Iditarod champ Dean Osmar persuaded them to move to Alaska. Through it all, running has been a constant. “We have this tradition that everywhere we’ve lived we run to the next town over,” Anna says. Those runs have gone as long as 30 miles.

The joy the Bering-tons share in going long together is amplified in sled races like the Iditarod. “You’re sharing that finish with 16 dogs,” Anna says. “It’s not just your accomplishment, it’s theirs, too.” Kristy adds: “Sled dogs are the most inspirational athletes for a runner. They don’t run for vanity or because they want to get their best time—they run because they absolutely love it.”