Nuclear news

After spending half the day at work, I returned home, changed into my Hoka singlet, and headed out to catch some sunshine in the hope of looking slightly less ghostly. Running 15 kilometres along the coast to Grötvik and back brought my weekly total to 50 kilometres, which I think is just about perfect with next week's race on the Bjäre Peninsula in mind. And few things beat celebrating that with an iced coffee and a cinnamon bun from our local Bärlin bakery.

Before heading out, I watched an SVT news report on the new nuclear reactors being built at Dukovany in the Czech Republic. Following the Korean nuclear industry's success in constructing the four reactors at Barakah in the United Arab Emirates, it is fantastic to see the state-backed Czech utility ČEZ moving ahead with an order for two more Korean reactors "off the shelf". As Barakah has demonstrated, standardization really is the key to bringing construction costs down.

Sommarjobb

Swiping my key card, I find myself entirely alone at work, the usual buzz of students and colleagues replaced only by the hum of the ventilation. Picking up the ninth edition of Policy-making in the European Union, I am reminded that it was one of the books that first sparked my interest in political science at the turn of the millennium. I especially remember the opening chapters on integration theory, how the world still seemed to be coming together, and how cooperation in one domain could spill over into others.

Preparing slides for September, which I already know will be an exceedingly busy month with three courses starting at the same time and a conference in Stockholm. With the election on 13 September, we will also know a little more about what kind of country Sweden has become.

Walking to work this morning, I stopped in front of the Sweden Democrats' election posters, with their faux nostalgia and celebration of fossil-fuelled hedonism. Much as I have come to reject traditional environmentalism for its lack of global imagination, moments like that very clearly remind me where I stand. A renewed mandate for the Tidö parties would, I fear, legitimize our basest instincts and further accelerate the erosion of democracy itself.

15 months ago

Returning to the rolling fields of Halland, I braved the morning heat in my Hoka Rincons and ran out to the Sperlingsholm estate, greeting the horses and reflecting that it has now been almost fifteen months since I last did this run.

Though slower than that morning in April, there is clearly new hope and healing after all that has been. The last few days have been eerily beautiful, almost to the point where a warming climate makes it difficult to fully appreciate high summer. And yet, the swallows still fly high, the evenings are long, and at last there is time to talk about so many things.

Salta bad

Taking the ferry over to the island of Öckerö, William and I started the day with a relaxed morning hike. Stopping for a swim in Hjälvik, where the water was above 20 degrees and the horizon stretched uninterrupted towards the west, I was reminded of how much I appreciate living in this part of Sweden, even as Skåne always beckons.

Back in town, it was well past William's lunchtime, so we had to make an emergency stop at Daawat for some of the best Indian cuisine this side of Delhi. Tomorrow, I am handing over the relay to Anna for the coming week as I take the train down to Halmstad. Before that, however, I hope to squeeze in a few more runs around Delsjön.

Godisdealen

Two years ago on Lofoten, William committed to not eating sweets for an entire year. One year later, he renewed the same commitment and, whereas I failed after just eighteen days when attempting the same thing myself in January 2025, William has remained steadfast. Today, he celebrated his second consecutive year with a cinnamon bun at Elsa’s Café and, within days, he plans to commit to another year.

These being my last days at Ängtegsgatan, I am trying to make the most of them by enjoying the veranda and the hammocks as much as possible, and by going for my customary morning runs in Skatås before it gets too hot. Of all the things I will miss, living within walking distance of two swimmable lakes may well be at the top of the list. So, before our fika, William and I went for another summery swim.

Post-Essex

When I signed up for the Essex Way Ultra in mid-May, it was as much for psychological as for athletic reasons: a way of coping with loss and focusing my mind on something tangible. From the very beginning, I knew it would be a difficult challenge, especially as I had been gradually scaling back my running volume. Little, however, did I expect just how hard it would prove to be, as a combination of worsening knee pain and intense nausea gradually ground me down in the summer heat.

Considering my relatively strong performances at both Trailövik (21 km) in 2023 and the Billy Goat Mountain Climb (26 km) back in April, I decided that my next race should be over a similar shorter distance. Looking through the Swedish Trail Race Calendar, I came across Bjäre Trail on 25 July and registered almost immediately. With a technical loop course completed twice for a total of 34 kilometres, I think it could be a lot of fun – and the perfect pre-flight activity before heading up to Umeå the following morning.

Peace theology

Yesterday, Ryanair safely brought Eddie back from his long sojourn on the Southern Great Plain of Hungary. Just like after Kode Space Camp last summer, it felt as though he had grown a lot by the time the taxi dropped him off next to Liseberg. It was wonderful to hear his stories from those eleven days, featuring everything from crossing the Romanian border to visiting the Hagymatikum thermal baths.

With both William and me happy to have him back, the three of us took the tram to Nordic Wellness this morning for a gym session together, before topping it off with a swim in Delsjön during the afternoon. In between, I found time to read a little of Martin Modéus' Fredsteologi i krigets skugga, which Sofi recommended while we were in England.

As the war in Ukraine rages on, and the fuel crisis increasingly affects Russians at home, there is a growing risk of what one might call a "drowning man syndrome", where Putin may be willing to take ever more desperate risks to stay afloat. In such times, talk of peace can seem dangerously naïve, yet at the same time absolutely indispensable if we are to remain true to the kind of people we aspire to be. Just as with the Sweden Democrats at home, whenever we dehumanize the other, we also give up a part of our own humanity.

Bondespelet

Back at the after-school club (fritids) in the 1980's, my favourite board game used to be Bondespelet. Four or five years ago, I played it quite a bit with the kids and now, when I returned from the British Isles, William had already set it up on the kitchen table. Between autumn storms wreaking havoc in our forests and plentiful summer harvests, he and I spent a couple of hours enjoying a nostalgic game before having dinner on the balcony.

With Anna moving house at the end of the month, she stayed on in Gothenburg for a couple of extra days so that we could sort through the basement together. It also gave us the chance to be jointly impressed by William's progress at the gym, where he has gone from barely being able to do a single chin-up to knocking out fifteen, as well as making his way across metres of monkey bars.

As much as I appreciated the trip, it feels really good to be back home, to go out for an Indian lunch with William, and to enjoy the long, unstructured days of sommarlov.

Camden Bar & Kitchen

With a 95% load factor and more than 20 million passengers last month, Ryanair is clearly doing a great deal to bring Europe closer together. By making travel affordable and efficient, it broadens horizons and, perhaps in some small way, helps stem the nationalist tide. Still, its dismal labour practices and apparent disdain for consumer rights are good reasons to avoid the airline. Yet, as in the past, I keep coming back, because the value proposition becomes hard to resist when you can fly for £25.

With no traditional lounge at Stansted, Priority Pass instead offers an £18 credit per person to spend at the Camden Bar & Kitchen, which Sofi and I happily made use of this morning before heading back to Sweden after four incredible days in the UK.

While that may change, I currently have no more international travel planned for the rest of the year, which actually feels rather good after all the recent globetrotting. Having fallen short of my dream of qualifying for the Arc of Attrition in January, I am also uncertain about what the future of running holds beyond the Malmö Marathon in October. Although disappointing, there is something sobering about recognizing one's own limitations and appreciating just how demanding ultra trail running can be.

Now, feeling almost fully recovered, I am looking forward to taking William to the gym this afternoon and hearing all about his chess adventures in Jönköping. And on Friday, Eddie finally comes home after eleven days (!) in Hungary.

Scones and sea weather

In Harwich, Sofi and I stayed at the Pier Hotel, right on the waterfront. Built in 1862 in the style of a Venetian palazzo, it featured an enormous "gin library" (which we skipped, for obvious reasons), century-old posters promoting travel to the Continent, and bathrooms playing old recordings of the Shipping Forecast. Hearing names like "German Bight", "Finisterre" and "The Hebrides" certainly put my imagination into overdrive.

Taking the train to Colchester, we stopped for scones at Small Talk Tearooms, which reminded me of my pseudo-Atlantic crossing with Dad last year. From there, we boarded the X20 "Airlink" bus to Stansted. At just £3, it was an absolute bargain compared with the train, which would have cost around £40, even if it took nearly two hours to cover the 50 kilometres.

After a quick check-in at the Hampton Inn, we boarded the Stansted Express for what I had planned to be a celebratory post-race visit to the champagne bar at St Pancras. Instead, what we lacked in medals, we made up for with Interrail nostalgia and a spot of bar hopping through the evening.