With the main summer season now over, the yearly “what have I learned from practicing endurance sports this year” LinkedIn post below. Previous versions here and here.

• Nothing bad lasts 100 years: the first 30 km of Vasaloppet, once the excitement of the first hill is over, are quite flat and frankly boring. So boring, in fact, that I started to doubt I’d finish as I wondered whether I’d stand another 60 km of the same thing. Thankfully, the hills started and the fun began.
• Have fun but keep your eyes open: one of the disadvantages of such a big race (15k participants this year) is that skill levels vary greatly and that can cause dangerous situations without a lot of space or time to react. I was very happy to be 9 km away from the finish line in one piece when a person in front of me started braking on the left lane in a short pause between two descents. With the speed I had I would have rammed them with disastrous results, the slope was too icy to brake in time and I couldn’t change lane safely, so the next best thing was to throw myself at the snowbank on the side of the track. They didn’t even notice I probably saved us both.
• Get media training: I ended up giving 3 interviews to Swedish media, including one live to the public broadcaster, Mexican skiers being a rather exotic bird.
• Don’t take yourself too seriously: the aforementioned SVT interview is rather bizarre, so naturally we used it to introduce me to our Nordic team.
• Roll with the punches: I got stung by a bee right above the left eyebrow on the bike around 35 km away from the second transition in Ironman 70.3 Jönköping and there was no medical attention before getting off the bike, so had to pedal while my forehead was throbbing. Thankfully I didn’t get an allergic reaction, a paramedic removed the sting in T2, and I could finish the race.
• Follow your curiosity and take your chances: I stayed for the award ceremony in Jönköping, which I never do because I’m in the bottom half of my age group, just because I wanted to see what’s what. The World Championship was slated to be in Lahti, Finland, a month and half away, and long story short, one ticket rolled down enough I could take it! Compete in a world class event, right on my doorstep. Wow.
• It’s ok to open up about impostor syndrome: for a while after it sank in that I was going to compete against the best in the world I panicked. I worried about not belonging in that “room”. Coach reminded me I won my ticket fair and square.
• Never stop learning: one week before the WC, while watching a video, I found a technique improvement that ended up shaving almost 5 minutes off my swimming time in Lahti, and it’s the most stupid little detail.
• Listen to the data, not just your gut: I knew it might rain but didn’t take my jacket after the WC swim, only cycling sleeves because the sky looked clear enough. It poured the whole ride, 13 degrees with wind around 12 m/s in some places and the sleeves were soaked through anyway and useless.
• Follow your plan through: During the bike section of the WC I lost count of how many people overtook me, as I tried to stay in my power zone rather than going head-to-head with the competition. I knew the cycling route was challenging and with the weather even more so, with a difficult half marathon still ahead. 20km before the second transition I started seeing people on the side of the road who looked like they were abandoning the race with aluminium blankets. I saw even more people in blankets in T2, with what looked like hypothermia. I also stayed in my power zone during the run and even the two leg-breaking 3km ascents went fine, and finished the race almost ten minutes below my previous PB.
• Give back to the people around you: I always try to be friendly and joke a little with the spectators and volunteers in races, but this year especially so. Thinking about all their effort, the years we spent in lockdown and feeling their support when you’re not necessarily 100% makes me very grateful. I want to contribute to that human connection.