Jean Lacroix vividly remembers the moment he crossed the finish line in Nome when he and his dogs ran the Iditarod in 1997.

He felt such mixed feelings of elation and exhaustion that he wept. It was to be his only Iditarod, but the famed dog-sledding race carries strong memories that Lacroix keeps in his heart.

"At the end, it was very emotional,” said Lacroix. "The feeling that you have come all this way, and here you are seeing the lights of Nome and realizing it was the end of the journey. For me, it was a dream that I had since I was a little kid. It was definitely emotional because I accomplished that dream. I was fortunate because not everybody gets to accomplish their dream.”

Lacroix, who was born in France and spent several years in Alaska before moving to Calais, Vermont, finished 27th in his only Iditarod. But as an experienced sledder, he later won a similar race in Montana. It was one of several races in the Lower 48 states and Canada he ran during a 10-year sledding career.

The Iditarod, though, was special.

"It’s definitely a different kind of race because it’s so hard,” he said. "It’s the kind of race where you have to work so hard. It’s a combination of luck and hard work, and I was very pleased to have accomplished it. During the race itself, you realize how small you are in relation to everything around you. I would tell anybody who wants to run the Iditarod that they should open themselves to what is ahead of them, open the door, and enjoy. You can easily connect with nature. That’s what you come for.

"It’s on a scale you just don’t experience every day, and the villages on the way were so welcoming. All around, it was a great experience. When you’re five miles from the finish, you think, ‘This is it.’ All the things you’ve worked to accomplish it come to an end. It’s a mixture of joy and sadness.”

One of the primary reasons for the ambivalence is the preparation he and his 14 dogs put into the race. He came to love his dogs so much that he can’t name a favorite. Sledding dogs are "not the kind you cuddle on the couch,” although they get a lot of playtime. He currently has two dogs at his home who are permitted to be on the sofa.

Training goes nearly year-round with long walks during the summer, pulling carts, and running as time marches toward the start of the race. He said training is stressful "because you don’t want to finish last.” More concentrated training comes six months before the race.

After a tremendous amount of hard work, race day comes, and eventually, the grueling event comes to an end.

"You’re turning the page,” he said. "What was surprising is that after 12 days without a break, you’d think you’d be tired. But you’re so tired you’re not tired anymore. You’ve learned to regulate your body to have little sleep and no warm meals. You break the barrier of being tired. Your body adjusts to what you need to do. It’s amazing how you adapt to the situation.

"I wasn’t tired for two weeks. I was surprised I had so much energy. But after those two weeks after the finish, I crashed. I was so tired.”

Lacroix moved to Vermont when he met a fellow Alaskan who became his wife. Lacroix owns a construction company and still keeps track of the Iditarod every year. Watching the event whenever possible makes him melancholy.  

"I wish I was there,” he said wistfully. "I would not have left Alaska. That was a place that matched my personality. I still had a lot of racing ahead of me. But life and family called me away.

"I look back on the race as an amazing opportunity I had then and the feeling that I was able to do it. I have learned to make peace with the fact that I am not there. But my life is good now. The Iditarod will always be in me because I had such a great experience. It’s something you remember forever. I don’t think I should be on the trail now, though. Life goes on.”