Malkars 21k

Leaving a rainy Gothenburg behind, I took train 327 across the country yesterday, with a special detour via Alingsås and Herljunga due to the rail construction going on in Almedal this summer. Being super productive with my research on the train, I arrived in Kalmar five hours later where I was met by my dad who followed me up to Verkstadsgatan and the starting line of Malkars 21k, a half marathon race that I was doing for the third time in my life.

Determined not to repeat past mistakes, I started conservatively, settling into a 4:25 min/km pace behind a runner in a blue “IFK Umeå” shirt. To my surprise, I felt fully in control. Passing Lillviken and the 5k mark at 21:56, I was reminded why I love road racing. Spotting my mother cheering from her bike gave me an extra boost of energy. At 10k, out on Ängö, my watch showed 44:29, still on pace for a new personal record.

But by 15k, nearing the turning point by Berga Centrum, reality set in. My heart rate hovered around 180 bpm, and I began feeling a sharp pressure in my chest. I took a brief walk after the aid station, just a few meters, but it was enough to know the PR would not happen today.

I crossed the finish line in 1:42, seven minutes off my best, but with no regrets. I had run the race I had in me. On the course, I chatted with an older gentleman running in the M75 class who, to my amazement, finished five seconds ahead of me. That, honestly, is more impressive than any personal record. And as for the course, Kalmar is always Kalmar.

BBQ season

With Anna’s brother visiting for the weekend - part professional bodybuilder, part iron ore miner - there is little doubt that the BBQ season is back in full swing. Between the protein-packed portions and tales from deep underground, the grill has been working overtime. Smoke in the air, cold drinks in hand, and the unmistakable feeling that summer has finally arrived.

Streaks

Today, Strava rolled out a new feature that displays your training activity week by week. To my surprise, I have managed to log at least one workout every week for 339 consecutive weeks – or roughly 6.5 years. With this afternoon’s rowing session and some weight training at NW Järntorget, the streak now stands at 4,200 activities in total, which is frankly a bit wild when you think about it.

Over an espresso lemonade at Da Matteo, I found myself still grappling with my new manuscript on pathways to sustainable aviation. And as if the pre-holiday pressure was not enough, I somehow ended up accepting two new reviewer invitations – one of them from Global Environmental Politics, no less. Then again, if one only agreed to peer review when one “had the time”, not much reviewing would ever get done.

El Cortejo

From the high plains and intense sunshine of western Argentina, I found a half bottle of Sauvignon Blanc with a double meaning (as in both courtship and procession), perfectly suited for Tove Folkesson’s latest book Badort. Co-written with her wife Hanna and set in late 1930s Borgholm, the book immediately caught my eye at the library yesterday, and now I cannot put it down.

Otherwise, the day began with a run up Brudarebacken together with Anna. I managed a new personal record with a grade-adjusted pace of 3:19 min/km, still a long way off the course record, but then again, that record was set by someone whose profile bio simply reads “Olympian athlete,” so maybe I should not feel too bad.

Beau Marin

Two months before setting sail with my dad on the Queen Mary 2, I was finally able to upload the last insurance details – and with that, we are officially ready to go. Believe it or not, this will be my first time aboard a cruise ship, though the QM2 is technically more of an ocean liner one might add. Either way, I am very much looking forward to the journey, not least from a culinary perspective. To get into the right maritime mood, I made pan-seared salmon with a creamy avocado sauce and asparagus, paired with a chilled can of “Beau Marin” from the Loire Valley.

I have made a conscious decision not to book any internet package while onboard the QM2 in order to be more present in the moment. But I promise to update the blog once I am back ashore in the UK. With everything currently unfolding in the Middle East, including Qatar closing its airspace in anticipation of an Iranian attack against the Al Udeid air base, I find myself doom-scrolling news at a pace not seen since the early days of the pandemic. Perhaps it is time to disconnect a little already, and give some more attention to my research.

Run up a hill, swim in a lake

Waking up to the disturbing news that Trump has followed through on his long-standing threat to bomb nuclear installations in Iran, I was at least heartened to see Sweden’s former prime minister Carl Bildt clearly denounce the action as a blatant violation of international law. I remember seeing the city lights of Tehran at night as Anna and I flew to our new home in Hong Kong in 2011 and daytime flights over the snowy mountains of Shiraz in 2015. The futility of all our conflicts, our tragic inability to see the bigger picture and the hope that could be humanity.

Trying to shake the gloom, I went up Brudarebacken in my old Hoka Torrents with my legs feeling a bit heavy after yesterday’s Alpaca hike. 200 meters of elevation gain later, I jumped into the lake below, swam a few hundred meters in the cold water before heading back home to make a failed attempt at Poffertjes with blueberries. 

Alpaca hike

Over lunch yesterday, Eddie suggested that he wanted to hike the Alpaca course. Given that the route is designed to mimic the elevation profile of the Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc – and includes some fairly technical sections – I was more than a little sceptical. Still, I was happy to see his enthusiasm for a serious physical challenge. After all, this is the same kid who, back in February, spent a week doing a full hour per day on the stair climber. When Eddie commits to something, he really goes all in.

We stopped for waffles at Slätta Damm about halfway through, and despite the heat and steep climbs, Eddie kept up a steady pace, ultimately completing the whole loop in 3 hours and 7 minutes. Now, of course, William wants his turn, and with an Alpaca run already scheduled with Elin in mid-July, it looks like I will be racking up quite a few Alpaca loops before the year is over.

Young Folks

Everywhere from Aloft Haidian in Beijing to W Seminyak on Bali, the same whistling song seemed to be playing through the summer of 2011. Back then, I never managed to identify it, and over the years, I have only heard it on a few rare occasions.

But today, thanks to ChatGPT, I finally tracked it down as “Young Folks” by the Swedish indie band Peter Bjorn and John:

“While older, this song had a very iconic whistling melody and remained popular in lounges, cafes, and hotels well into the 2010s, especially in trendy or upscale places”

Listening to it now, I am instantly transported across time and space. Before being thrown back to the Pacific, I had spent the afternoon hiking with the kids in Kielers Park and made sweet potatoes with mint and feta for dinner – another throwback to summer adventures past.

Espresso smoothie

Waking up to blue skies, I spent the first couple of hours working on my various article projects before taking William out for 5k of running and walking around the block. Once back home, I decided to test how well my legs had recovered from the recent ultra adventures by going flat out – covering the first kilometre in 3 minutes and 54 seconds.

With that, my earlier concerns about running fast in the Asics Novablast were dispelled, as they proved more than up to the task (more so than Rasmus, one might add). Completing the 5k in 21 minutes and 39 seconds, I returned home with that satisfying feeling of having truly exerted myself – and of fully deserving an espresso smoothie with banana, dates, and yoghurt.

Ran to Japan

Unlike during the pandemic, I now spend very little time on YouTube. The days of following Seth James DeMoor’s daily updates from the Colorado trails or watching Ben Parkes race faster than I ever will in his signature pink gloves feel like a distant memory.

Lately, however, I have found myself drawn into the world of “Ran to Japan”, a channel with the fantastically counterintuitive motto: “Train harder, not smarter.” It documents a British runner living out the Japanese “running monk” lifestyle – waking up at 4:45 am and pounding 250 kilometres of asphalt per week. Through this strict regime, he is fast approaching the magic 2 hour and 10 minutes barrier in marathon running with his next race being the Gold Coast Marathon in Brisbane in early July.

In contrast, my own running has hit something of a plateau. No matter how many hours I seem to train, there is little visible progress, only the psychological stress of consistently finishing at the back of the pack in races that stretch the limits of my capacity. And yet, I am still here. Still running. Still showing up. Today that meant 11k of early morning recovery with Anna in Skatås, a cold swim in Härlanda Tjärn, and then 10k of indoor rowing at the gym while Eddie impressively powered through 50 minutes on the stair climber. Not quite 250k a week – but, perhaps, something equally enduring in its own way.