THANKS

I finally made it to the U.S. On hardly any sleep and loads of Marabou chocolate, I entered Chicago anxious to get on the flight to Columbus. Although I am anxious, it is nice to be able to sit in the airport and relax and think about things to myself. Right now I am sitting at the boarding gate about 2 hours early, surrounded by several individuals, mostly American, re-visiting my time in Europe through my amateur photographs. It was reassuring to buy a Panini and actually put cash in my wallet that fit comfortably—not too large and torn. I won’t see the kronor for a long while, and as I mentioned in the past, it’s bittersweet. Bitter that I had to leave, sweet now that I’m back to my hometown. It is funny, now that as soon as I hit the airport, I quickly realized the differences from Sweden once again. Bathrooms are dirty and grungy, people dress in jean shorts and t-shirts (not sailor style), people are loud, and there are bagels being sold (didn’t eat or see one bagel in Sweden). I have no kind of fetish with bathrooms, but they really stand out in Sweden—all clean, everything works etc… Anticipating seeing my parents’ is a great feeling—never went this long without seeing them, even in college I never went more than a month. I’ll miss everyone in Sweden, the randoms from the bars, the teammates, the people from the buffet, the other Americans sharing my experience, and everyone who helped Erek and I in one way or another—never been treated so nicely. I owe them all much thanks and will repay them (though they think it unnecessary) in some way or another when I get back into my job in Columbus. In speaking of Columbus, it will be great to see Oskar (a guy on our team that is going to school at Otterbein and playing baseball). I spent most of the summer getting to know him, as we painted side-by-side in the Swedish heat for a little over a month. He, like others, supplied Erek and I with rides all of the time, and helped us gather supplies, and showed us a local beach, golfed, and even gave me a great place to get my mom a gift. It will be nice returning the favors as he learns what the American college lifestyle is all about.

I could go on thanking everyone on the team for at least one or two things they did to help ensure that we have a pleasant stay in Sweden. Always making sure things were alright, inviting us to dinners, trips, and giving the notion that they expect nothing in return—truly genuine people. Olov, Bosa, Peter, Tomas A, Tomas J., Tomas B, Morgan, Oskar, Erik, Eric, Patrik, Joel, Johan, Edvin, Felix, Olle, Mattias, Max, Kristoffer, Ardeshir, Mikael S.,---THANK YOU—along with all of the parents and other supporters that made the season possible. Though baseball does not represent the majority of sports fans in your country, you guys put in much work and dedication to keeping Gefle’s team and opportunities alive. If given more opportunity, most of you could compete well back in the states. You do this for fun and competition and the enjoyment of the game. All of you have work elsewhere for support and still find time to come out at least three days a week in the evening to get better—It didn’t go unnoticed and all of you made mine and Erek’s job a bit too easy! The fact that some of you will keep working hard in the dark, winter of Sweden already presents that this team will continue to become better every year! I am very grateful for being surrounded by quality people that were able to give us so much when each one of you had your own lives to balance outside of baseball. I wish all the best with each one of you and hope to stay in touch!

Not only did the adult team supply me with the best summer of my life, the youth team added their fair share of laughter and interesting practices that made for a fun time coaching. As I have said several times to them and others, they were definitely the most unique team I had ever been apart of—consisting of 2 rockers, 1 dancing machine, 1 loud mouth, 2 pairs of brothers (one that contained two future comedians, and the other, a quieter couple that still managed to throw in their jokes), and a kid who could not wear his hat normal and loved sunflower seeds. Others came and went throughout the season, but the core team proved to be the wildest crew in youth Swedish baseball. Yes, we would get stared at during games from all of the dancing and playful manner, but we didn't mean any disrespect and we had a damn good time. Though we had fun, I saw several players improve over the course of the summer. Yes, discipline helps when trying to instill a great team, but I believe this team had a fun and relaxing summer playing baseball—what they need to want to learn and get better. I’ll miss the tournaments, and I feel like the last tournament went very well. Although it was my last weekend, and I had to leave early Monday after we returned late Sunday, I believe it was a great end to the summer—In the end, that is why I am here—to help coach and teach baseball to the youth. Without them, there are no future Gavle baseball teams.

I knew coming out here that I would form relationships that would be unable to continue due to my moving back to the U.S. Another reason the whole “social networking” system is a genius invention, is that it allows me to communicate with those 5,000 miles away. I plan to re-visit Sweden in the future and hope to keep those contacts all my life. People always asked, “Well, what is so good about Sweden, or do you like it?” (Swedish or not). I have had some time to think about it, and it is hard to really grasp what I enjoyed because I was there for a short time. I enjoyed the wilderness—even Stockholm had an outdoor feel supplemented with a deep city life. It is quite a large country (By Europe Standards--about the size of California), but LA has more people in its city than the entire country of Sweden. The openness of the country was refreshing—highways were long and fast—trees were endless (tall, towering pines), the lakes were hypnotic, the ocean was as if it were dyed with dark blue food coloring, and the endless daylight and mild summer made for an absolute beautiful country. Of course everything has its downside to compliment its greatness, so I guess Sweden's winter is considered fairly depressing. I hope to visit sometime to get a good deal of the darkness and cold winter. It is true though, it seems that once the sun comes out from hiding in the spring, everyone soaks it up as much as possible--even girls we had in our camps would be found laying on the field, and when asked why, they responded, "We just love the sun." It also makes for a fairly high rate of skin cancer patients as well. Since Sweden is positioned in a spot on the Earth where the direct sunlight is a bit more intense, people of older age tend to develop cancerous lesions (it doesn't help that there are many tanning salons and that they spend every free hour in the sun), but I do not blame them at all--I'm sure going through one winter would convince me to do the same.

Apart from the weather and climate, Sweden is just easier at times. Everything, at least in Gavle, is built around the inner city. The suburbs are quite close--maybe a 30-40 minute walk at the most, and there are bus lines in every area and passes are relatively cheap (about 200 Kronor a month-- roughly $28 for unlimited rides). Grocery shopping is small and quick--yes, they have Maxi stores, but even those aren't as big as some megastores here. Everything there is healthier too--I have never seen bread spoil so fast, along with other foods. Since most Europeans shop every other day in general, foods do not need the preservatives we use in America (or in vice versa). Also, all milk products were always in paper containers--there were no large gallon plastic jugs. There was no such thing as "Skim milk." The lowest percentage of fat was 0.5%. The largest container I could buy was 1.5L. Mostly everyone drinks higher fat milk and still manage to look thin and in decent shape--primarily because everyone is more active in riding bikes and walking. I saw some beautiful women all decked out for work riding their bike around town. No offense to girls around here, but I would never find a girl loaded in fresh work attire riding their bike--probably because most here can't--too far away, or because most are afraid of looking goofy or getting dirty. I would love to have a bus that I could catch outside of my apartment downtown and have it take me to work. I am definitely going to look into it when I get into my new place. Also, foods in general were healthier, even the unhealthy ones. Oreo-like cookies, called Balarina's, tasted amazing and contained no trans fat and very trace amounts of any hydrogenated oils. Coca-cola contained sugar, not high-fructose corn-syrup (although corn syrup has not been that big of deal, it is still concentrated sugar and there is a reason people started making a mess about its use in the first place). They also have these things called, "Risifrutti." It is basically a rice pudding--soo damn good along with another compartment filled with fruit. Unlike a lot of things in America, the fruit tastes fresh and real, not like sugary goo. I am not saying America doesn't have a lot of this as well, but it is usually contained in the, "Nature" section of stores and is fairly more expensive and you get hardly half the quantity. They also have many berries to select from-- Krusbar (gooseberry)--looks like a hairy grape--as if somebody spliced a kiwi and white grape, Hjaltron (cloudberry)--sounds fantasy-like, but resembles a fluffy cloud and is bright orange like fire--very unique taste and amazing when put into jam--quite expensive as it is only found during the summer in certain areas, red and black currant--very tart, rhubarb (not really a fruit, but taste like a lemon--good pie). You must bag your own groceries, bring your own bag, or pay a very small price for a bag--the only downfall is that everything closes very early, and maybe that was because it is a small city, but it is pretty convenient when you can go shopping at 11:00pm if need be--There, everything must be done by 9pm usually at the latest.

I loved the highways. So open and fast--all of the highways were very well kept (some even tinted red since they use a naturally produced red substance to help build the roads). At one point I went 200 kph, which is roughly 124 mph. Not exactly legal, but cops aren't too abundant (many speeding cameras and you are warned much before the actual picture is taken), and I didn't even realize I was going that fast since the highway is straight and placed in the middle of the country in most places. Most speed limits are around 100 kph, or 62 mph. Police officers cannot sit on the side of the highway and catch people, they must be behind you initially, and a lot times they are un-marked on the highway. They even have their lights on the inside of the vehicle, which looks like an ordinary car--so it is risky at times. The police do not mess around if you are caught either-- a friend of mine was caught going roughly 15 kph over the limit on a back road and the first thing they do is give a breathalizer-- it was at noon. Now I understand why no one there drinks even a sip of beer and drives, even when their houses are so close to everything (everyone else in the car is allowed to drink like fish and have open containers, but if the driver has any, he is screwed--makes sense and everyone sticks to this rule very well--didn't meet one drunk driver, unlike in America). They sometimes will even take your license on the spot if they think it is reasonable-- even for a simple speeding ticket. Anyway, my friend got a ticket for 2,500 kronor ($342)! Pretty ridiculous. As far as drinking in public and what not, they seem more lenient. One night, a girl (definitely underage in the US), was highly intoxicated outside of the local club and could barely cooperate--they didn't throw her into a police car or give her a ticket--simply let her sit on the street and her mom proceeded to angrily pick her up at 4am. I don't think any police at Ohio State would have tolerated that mess.

Alcohol regulations are very restricted in a sense as well. You cannot buy a case of beer--each beer is purchased individually and starkol, or strong beer (alcohol above I think 4%) is only sold in the system bolaget (or country regulated liquor store). If you want to buy beer, you can in the gas stations, but only up to 3.5%. you have to be 18 to drink, but 15 and 16 year olds get away with buying at gas stations (though, weak beer). Most people will take a cruise to Finland or go down to Germany and bring back cases of beer--legal and much cheaper! Alcohol is more expensive in bars of course, but not completely out of reach. The biggest week of the month is the weekend after the 25th, since that is when everyone gets paid--therefore everyone blows a lot on drinks. Everybody, if not, most here, get paid only once a month on the 25th. I think it is kind of annoying--I sometimes wish it wasn't bi-weekly (rather weekly)!

I loved the small villages. When we went on a camping/cabin trip with Morgan, we came across much of the Swedish outback. The air was fresh and the people were nice, and the endless trails and reindeer were awesome. Again, everything just felt much less crowded--and it is--though Sweden is about the size of California, LA in itself has more people than all of Sweden. One of the coolest things I saw or came across was the little hut-like village/town/plantations. These normally abandoned places were usually kept livable by another person, and if one happened to be passing by and needed a place to stay, he or she could stay there for a night for free. They have bunk-like beds and leftover food from other travelers, fresh streams, wood, an outhouse, and fireplaces. Most have guest books, and much history and vintage appeal. Many have found second lives stumbling upon these places--after terrible blizzards or those stranded or lost, several hikers and skiers have been able to survive through one more night from these open hospitality cabins. The one thing that makes Sweden unique is the open rule that any man or woman is free to camp one night anywhere they please if needed, or take fruit or vegetables from anyone's lawn. It is a very free, honest way of thinking, but seems to work for that country and I believe Norway as well. It is another thing that when there isn't too many people, it seems to work out alright.

Overall, Sweden was an experience that I will remember for the remainder of my life. Met a lot of great people from Sweden and America, among other countries. THANKS TO EVERYONE ONCE AGAIN!!

Time is almost up!

Things I have yet to talk about before I leave September 6th:

Misommar

Euro Trip

Baseball progress

Swedish Mountains-camping

Finished Paint Job

and probably more filler stuff

Adds up!

I fell into a slump in terms of blogging and I apologize--blogging--what an annoying word...

As for now, I am no longer painting and camps do not start up until tomorrow, so I have much free time this morning while it pours outside the apartment. The weather has dramatically decreased, but in a good way---I love the cool weather, not the frigid, nor the humid heat, but that windy, dry, cool weather is perfect--and besides the rain, that is where we are at right now. I am getting excited to see those that I haven't been able to physically see, let alone talk to in a close to a half-year, but I am also saddened by the fact that I have met some incredible people and have lived a great life here in Sweden, and my time to leave is arriving. What is the cliche saying? "Bittersweet." that's it... Though this was an incredible experience and worth every minute, everything comes to an end, and that's okay, since more things lie in the future. I have met some interesting people, from Sweden and not from Sweden. For instance, a kid, 18 yrs of age, that has been recently coming to baseball practice, is from Nepal. He has lived a life completely different from anything that any typical suburban American guy has lived. Long story short, he grew up near the Nepalese jungle with tigers, monkeys, wild dogs, cobras, etc... He said that wold dogs are usually around town and that monkeys will swoop down and steal things from your backpack if they think there is food. The wild dogs have gangs and when paths cross, it can get ugly. He added that one could be walking and see a group of guys equipped with weapons such a swords on their backs. He fled Nepal in a van to Europe once he no longer had any family left in Nepal at 15 years old. He wound up in Sweden alone due to some misunderstanding, so he headed to the immigration office and they set him up with necessary Swedish classes, a Swedish father (good guy, but doesn't live with him), and a job. He is starting school next year and has hopes of going back to Nepal eventually, and hasn't heard from or seen his brother for four years or so. He has been living on his own since he was 16 in a country that is nowhere near home. A very nice and humble kid, he did not brag about his adventure, but rather enlightened us when we questioned. He has been stabbed and held at gunpoint. He complains of being bored as hell here in Sweden, and I can wonder why! A bit more laid back than a jungle. He was attracted to baseball since he saw us practicing as he was playing soccer in the fields next to the diamond. He was a big cricket player back in Nepal and has quickly picked up the game of baseball to some extent--naturally athletic. He said that him and his friends played all of the time back home, and since he cannot stand sitting at home alone in his apartment, he goes out and does whatever he can find outside of work--Where he is from, there is a lot going on around him in the city, so it is quite different from here, well that, and he no longer has his hometown friends around. I could go on telling the stories of this unique kid, but it is his life and I don't feel right telling the public of his years in Nepal, but I felt it necessary to tell a small portion since it is much different than anyone's I had ever heard. I know there are more stories from people all over the world much unlike mine, but that is what makes traveling and meeting others so fascinating--allows me to step back and be thankful and to also open up to new experiences and find more than Ohio. It really showed me how insignificant high school was! I mean while I was playing football and going to prom, he was dodging wild animals and trying to stay away from trouble with gangs. It's nice to meet those who make you think.

Erek and I recently returned from a trip with a friend (Morgan) on the team from his summer cabin (his dad grew up there), and the Swedish mountains for camping. We have been living in Gavle, close to the city, and have ventured out in Sweden for baseball and Midsommar, but it was nothing like where Morgan took us. It was a five hour drive Northwest of Gavle, and since I do not speak the language, the names of towns never stick in my head. A kids father from the youth team generously supplied us with a car while they were on vacation (too nice here!!). It was a small Toyota Yaris--pretty much a bit bigger than a smart car. We stuffed that thing full and bags and gear and headed for the mountains. The landscapes on the way were again nothing less than amazing. After our long journey, we stopped and parked at the bottom of an area surrounded by old Swedish mountainous terrain. A few parts were actually areas for ski runs, and Morgan noted that many cross-country ski/hike up the mountain and then ski down--talk about a killer workout. As we made our summit, I noticed that it wasn't too high--the Swedish mountains are very old--some of the oldest in the world--all of the ice and wind and wear and tear have chiseled them into beautiful, stony, landmarks. There were rocks everywhere and green grass, small streams and ponds of water. As we took in the vast picture of being on top--the fresh air--cool breeze, we began to realize that we were the only ones around for miles--very cool, erie feeling. Morgan added that the weather as acting very bizarre, in such that there wasn't any wind--normally wind floods the mountains, but rather several mosquitoes! Usually when you climb past the tree line, the mosquitoes are no longer a pest, but without wind, I suppose the sustain their flight for blood. It was quite annoying at first, but we got used to it--maybe not Erek, but for the most part, as long as we covered up, it wasn't much. We set up camp in a flat area that overlooked some small ponds. It was nice to know that we could drink the water straight from the streams with no problems at all. It tasted just like a bottled water from the store. Morgan is no stranger to the outdoors and camping, so of course he had the perfect equipment for everything. He had silverware, cooking pots, stove, lights, durable tents that folded into the size of a football, extra clothing, water bottles etc... The right guy to have on the hike. After setting up, we decided to make our way to the areas of water. The ground around the water was just like walking on a giant sponge--so soft and dense--there really wasn't any grass, but rather small bushes and shrubs that lined the entire floor of the mountains. We were on a mission for cloudberries--in Swedish--hjortron-- a bright orange/yellow looking berry that is very hard to find since they are temperature sensitive and only around during certain months of the summer. They grow straight from the ground in dense, saturated areas near water. They have a very unique taste of sweet and fruity, but unlike anything I have tried before. The jam is quite expensive to purchase. Morgan said that one can receive about 50 kronor for one kilo of berries (sell to restaurants and other stores). As we made our way down, we found several berries to try--best berry I have had. He still said there is usually more and the weather just wasn't helping out--apparently Erek and I bring bad luck because we never found a lot of berries as expected. As the day came to a close, we saw some reindeer off in the distance, but not much other wildlife. Morgan made some pasta for dinner and we crept into our tents--each one was double layered for protection and warmth, and each had two separate, storage compartments on either end for setting the backpacks outside of the tent while remaining protected from the outdoors. I flicked on a light and tucked myself into my sleeping bag, which of course reminded me of a giant Chipotle burrito--one of the first things I'll get when I'm back. It was almost more difficult to sleep at first since it was freakishly quiet. The comfortable sleeping pad and bag made it easy to get cozy with the cooler, mountain weather. I woke up a few times in the night, but overall slept pretty well. The next morning, Morgan was up and preparing breakfast--he was always on top of making sure we had the full experience! We had oatmeal with some flavoring added--like blueberry soup--we do not have packets of these mixes in the U.S.

We made our way back after compressing all of the camping gear back into our bags. It was an easier trip downhill and I had to at least go and explore part of a massive gorge created from years of natural wear and tear. It resembled somewhat of a "half-pipe" for giants. I carefully made my way through the craters and up the side of the massive cut-out. I ended up climbing an area that ended up in a dead end, plus we had to get going back to the car in order to get to Morgan's cabin at a decent hour. The rest of the way down was pretty easy--all down hill.

Morgan's cabin area was awesome. Reminded me much of my aunts place with the old pictures and wooden tables and furniture. Maybe it is a Scandinavian thing since my aunt (half Norwegian), has much of the same setting. We arose the next morning to a beautiful lake in the back yard.

CROSSFIT

I am not writing this to rant and make everyone go to the gym and push themselves beyond limits they never thought possible, sweat their ass off, grunt, yell, scream, cheer and curse at resistant barbells---that would be nice, but simply, I only want others to recognize the benefits and also to congratulate a friend on his triumphant display of strength and endurance at this years Crossfit Games. After beginning my post-college life, I stumbled upon a local gym outside of Columbus through some guys on my summer baseball team. They kept talking about this gym headed by this guy named Ralph that had some crazy workouts we could try for free. I was getting pretty burnt out on going to a recreation center riddled with retired elders by myself or one other and just simply lifting weights (you know, do sets of bench and squat then aux lifts like triceps, back and other smaller muscle groups, followed by some running or cardio). I still worked out fairly hard, but nothing like I was about to experience in the near future. I was also looking around for local kick-boxing or some sort of sport workout non-related to lifting in that sense--to be competitive, but also fun and a great workout. As I arrived, I was immediately excited. No machines, reception desk, pools, mirrors, sweat towels, water machines, tvs, treadmills, ellipticals etc.. Just one giant, almost warehouse-like garage-rental space with free weights, rings, running space, and other functional equipment not found at your "everyday" gym. Ralph was an ex-pro baseball player in the Astros organization who began giving baseball lessons and expanded into fitness, prompting him to open his own gym. A very nice guy who allowed us to come in and get a personal trained workout for free. Well, long story short, it went well and I kept going back at a low fee until one day he asked me to help him in training the growing clientele. I jumped on the opportunity right away since I was looking for other jobs upon graduating from school, plus I was always interested in the challenge of training and helping others realize that fitness pain is good pain.

After several months of training and learning about how to go about certain clients and using the best circuits for the most efficient workouts, I really began enjoying the atmosphere and the philosophy of functional, athletic movements. Most gyms and training have clients sit in machines and focus on single muscle groups; enough for a little burn and sense of accomplishment, but with nothing accomplished except a large chunk of money. Everyone looks for the easiest and least stressful way of getting into shape (it is shown in all of the infomercials regarding new stimulation ab-machines--"sit on the couch and get a 6 pack in 5 minutes!"), but the truth is, getting in shape is not easy, but in doing the work, it gives a much higher high than anyone ever understands! A lot of people that had arrived at our gym get frustrated and turned away because we flip tires, run, and do pull-ups, especially the women. There is a gym across the street that is available at much more money and is the "easy way out" because they won't flip tires there, lift barbells, jump onto boxes etc... and they also will not produce results--trust me--plus when one accomplishes the feat of flipping a 300 lb tire and completing 5 un-assisted pull-ups--mainly the women, it gives an instant feeling of power and strength--I mean how many women can say they can row 500m and then do 10 tire flips of 300 lbs or do 10 pull-ups and then jump onto a 2 ft box 20 times? Even with the men, doing something that sucks real bad is only going to feel twice as good afterward. Like anything else, it becomes easier, not in the work, but in understanding how to get through it--it is a mental makeover. It makes you feel more inclined to accomplish more outside of the gym, and to realize your body can go much further than you think. For instance, if you had to build a deck, paint the house, get laundry done, help a friend, and walk the dog all in about a couple weeks, you may have originally felt this to be a ridiculous amount of work, but after getting through a once-thought-impossible workout, it seems like nothing, or at least doable. I have gone into the gym too many times feeling tired and sluggish, not believing I would be able to complete a workout and getting through it--never gets old. Happiness lies in accomplishment and working out and fitness is that fuel for the drug of endorphins and immediate satisfaction. It teaches you to never give up on something, and if you try enough, that it eventually happens---sooo true... I don't know how many times I have failed getting a weight and on the 7 or 8 time, I had gotten it. Many people do not understand why I go through that kind of torture, but the fact is that most people never have tried. I think a lot more people would achieve or at least believe they could do more if they tried Crossfit or any fitness regimen just a few times. The reason I see this as so valuable is because not everyone is playing in front of 100,000 cheering fans each week, and intense training and accomplishment in a group is as close as one can get to feeling that adrenaline. Everyone needs a little "loud" in their life--so crank up the music and yell and scream and through some weight around--just meditation in a not so meditative way. I remember reading a quote from Muhammad Ali that talked about how he hated every minute of training, but he knew it was well worth it to get him to where he needed to be. I am sure he felt much better upon completing his workouts and having pushed through them. In regarding the Crossfit Games, Ralph and others mentioned this competition in the spring where men and women competed in certain workouts for prizes. I had heard of the Crossfit before, but did not realize there was a whole "games" and competition--I didn't think much of it in the past. With the games being only a year or two old at the time, a co-trainer and I decided to compete. After only a few months of training, it turned out that he was to advance to the final competition and I missed out do to a fault in pull-ups. That is another beauty of this growing sport--you have to be all around capable--able to lift massive amounts of weight, run miles, push body weight a high speeds and think on the fly since workouts aren't usually given until moments before you are to complete them. Workouts are for time, highest amounts of reps in time, maxing out, and distance runs. It is everything to solidify someone as being the fittest. Olympic lifts, rings, sprints, military obstacles--anything can and most likely occur--it's intense, fun, stressful, and rewarding all in about sometimes a few minutes. It exploited my weakness, pull-ups and therefore I did not advance--had I done well, I probably would have qualified. Graham, the co-trainer and friend went on to place 19th in 2009--pretty good for quickly jumping into the Crossfit community.

The following year, I worked on everything I could and advanced, but could had other obligations and did not make it to the regional. Graham, however, placed third in his region and advanced to the big show in California. Every year the stakes are higher and more and more people are catching on and becoming addicted. It is definitely a cult, either you understand it or you don't--there is certain terminology (workouts are named after people so everyone knows what you mean when you say you completed "Annie" in however amount of time). It has become a norm to take epic pictures at landmarks posing in certain lifting positions--it has been a fun time growing in the Crossfit community as it is on the rise. This year the competition was even tougher as expected. Many of the athletes that have been around since it started are still competing four years later and have made household names for themselves as "professional Crosfitters" in a sense. They are on the main website regularly, travel to promote and give fitness tips in the online journal. They are slowly becoming minor celebrities and in a starting point of California, they are well on their way to becoming at least as popular as the "strong man comp." guys. Graham went in as a definite, high competitor, but no one really said much regarding him as a possible champion--too many people in the Crossfit news regarded other more well known names to be crowned champion, especially the defending Finnish champ, Miko Salo. After competing with Graham for a couple of years (we would always challenge and go head-to-head on workouts to push each other-he usually got me on the body weight workouts and I usually ousted him with weight--of course, he is about 20 lbs less than me-but in Crossfit that does not matter--there is no weight class--no bitching, just do it), I could easily argue he would tear up the competition. After taking over another local gym and branching out and learning to run his own fitness area with another friend of ours, I wouldn't compete with him as much, but would hear the times he was posting and see videos from their site. Always disciplined and never one to stop short, he cruised his way to being the fittest man in the world. Crossfit is a lot of physical prowess, but more heart--you have to find that strength to go faster when it seems like your body is putting up a barrier---trust me it is okay to push through burning and fatigue--you wouldn't be able if it weren't good for you. Graham definitely has each of those. To be in the California heat, throwing a kettle bell over your head over a hundred times without dropping it once, coupled with running and pull-ups and a max overhead lift is enough to deter anyone away from the sport, but if you ever try anything close to it, you will understand why it is so appealing. Graham went on to surprise many and establish himself atop the ranks as the fittest, and this is merely a congratulations---many wonder how a physical competition of this sort is inspiring--how is it not? To out-compete thousands of competitors from across the world to become the lone man at the top is something everyone can relate too and dream for and accomplish. He prepared, stayed disciplined and always looked forward.

I am not saying everyone should drop what their doing and embed themselves in this fitness world, but I suggest that if your feeling bored, unhealthy and un-motivated, then find a local Crossfit gym and you will be back on top. You will probably hate it at first, but since when has something so good ever been liked the first time around--gotta go through discomfort to find comfort. I rambled a little throughout this post, but I just wanted to give a shout out to Graham and Ralph and everyone I have worked or trained with because Crossfit has given me a new outlet and way of competing and staying in shape after college and has been much more in so many ways. Don't get me wrong, I still love baseball and the other original sports, but Crossfit supplements my health to last in the various movements of those sports, so I and thankful. I only ask that maybe some of you will go to crossfit.com and read the journals and stories-- I bet you will want to start moving! I wouldn't write about this if it weren't worth it--- some other sites---

rhsportfit.com roguefitness.com

For those of you who read this blog--I know this isn't about Sweden, but I felt like writing about something that has been pretty big lately and more people should check in.. I will post more about my Euro experience later--this is just what I was feeling at the time--sometimes in writing you just gotta go with what you want to write about, not what you should.

Scandinavian Life

It has been pretty busy around here now that the weather has been amazing the past week. It has been sunny and around 70-80*F all week with very little rain. The sun is a bit more dangerous than back home due to the proximity of the country. The rate for skin cancer is much higher here in Sweden than most other countries, especially when everyone tries to soak it in as much as possible since winter is a dark, cold time. It has made painting a friend's house very relaxing. The humidity is basically non-existent and the ocean breeze keeps everything even keel. Other than that, Erek and I just finished our first Midsommar experience over last weekend and the U.S. suffered a frustrating loss in the World Cup. I have watched more soccer in the past weeks than ever in my entire life--it is actually exciting despite the pansy-esque "diving" and whiny faces. I will talk more about Midsommar and other things in the coming days, but for now I would like to list a chapter from the book I have been reading. The book my dad had given me, "In Cod We Trust," has been quite interesting in that most of it has literally been a repetition of what Erek and I have experienced. The author, Eric Dregni, details his year long journey in Norway with his family, describing everything from minor differences to the unique lifestyle of the Norwegian inhabitants. It feels has if he turned his blog into a full book--a lot of things similar upon my arrival in Sweden. Since most of us back in the states never study or hear much of anything about Norway, let alone Scandinavia, I have decided to type a chapter from his book. I believe this chapter lays out in great summarization the typical lifestyle and views of the people in Scandinavia. Though Sweden, Norway, and Finland are quite different in many respects, they all share similar views upon how life is approached. Unless one has relatives, is from Minnesota or North Dakota, or chooses to study the Nordic countries in school, most do not learn a single thing about these countries, other than how they are portrayed by American comics or television series'. I know that this isn't a depiction of every single Swede, but I think it will help those who do not know much about Scandinavian values--different, but effective way of looking at life. With that said, here you go!

"In Cod We Trust"

Living the Norwegian Dream

A simple yearlong residency permit meant the Norwegian government would take care of us and pay for the birth of our first baby. A pamphlet we received from the Royal Ministry of Health and Social Affairs confirmed, "Compulsorily insured under the National Insurance Scheme are all persons resident or working in Norway."

No wonder Norway has had the highest quality of life rating for years. "It's not that we buy more things or have more things, it's that we are guaranteed a high standard of living," an American living in Oslo told me. "We don't have two cars, we take the bus; we can probably count the number of times that we go out to eat." While this may not be the American dream of wealth, Norway's system gives a degree of stability and certainty that your health care will be covered, free higher education will be provided, you won't be out on the street if you lose your job, and your pension will be paid by the government.

When Norway was declared to have the highest standard of living for three years in a row, the prime minister told the Norwegian people to stop complaining that they didn't have enough things. About the same time, the Norwegian government was considering a proposal to make public transportation--especially in Oslo--all free.

SIDE NOTE FROM ME: The above paragraph is what many other countries disagree with--especially America--people want their own things--be able to buy whatever they'd like--free society--which I completely understand and think is good--it seemed as if Norway compromised with its society in having free transportation--as if to make a point that if the people are beginning to rebel, then win them over again by supplementing them with a small add-on--could be read the wrong way, but sometimes governments aren't always trying to scam the people--some do good for the better of human life--I strongly believe this is true in Norway.

Book Continued---

The welfare system was paid for by high taxes, especially income tax, which didn't seem to raise the rancor that it would in the United States. Many people in Norway were proud of their welfare system, but Norwegian modesty kept them from bragging. "It's the system we have chosen," Sissel, my second Norwegian teacher, told me matter-of-factly, "and I'm happy to pay the taxes for it."

Happy to pay taxes for welfare? I'd been surprised to hear nearly identical views from many Norwegians, which was one of the main reasons that Norway refused to join the European Union. No one wanted to give up this comprehensive welfare system that helped all Norwegians.

Growing up in Minnesota, I was always taught by my dad that Scandinavian society was some sort of utopian system that helps everyone. When asked why we were in Norway, I joked that Katy and I were on assignment to discover the secrets of the Norwegian welfare system by having a baby. Katy was not amused.

When my great-grandfather Ellef left the Lusterfjord, Norway was the poorest country in Europe. Norwegians left in droves; more than 750,000 emigrated. This was the largest per capita emigration from Europe after Ireland.

After the discovery of oil and natural gas in the 1960's, along with tapping into the country's waterways for hydroelectric power, Norway became the richest country in Europe. Thanks to the massive oil reserves found in the North Sea, Norway is the third largest oil exporter. "The rest of Europe calls Norwegians 'The blue-eyed Arabs,'" Knut told me. Rather than letting Philips Petroleum do the drilling, the Norwegian government set up its own oil company, Statoil. The money goes into the oljefondet (oil fund) to support the government and keep taxes relatively low for this welfare system.

"Norway is rich not only because of Statoil," said Knut, "but also because as a country we've made a decision to share our resources with each other, like people in Sweden and Finland do. We're founded on a fusion between social solidarity and a democratic ideal. Therefore we don't have the poor like you do in the United States--or the crime, for that matter."

"Now in Norway we have oil and gas, so we are strong," our landlord, Arne, told me. "At least we think we are strong."

With the affluence came multinational corporations trying to capitalize on the newfound wealth. Arne was worried.

"Some of us Norwegians consider Norway to be the fifty-first state. Because we have McDonalds, Burger Kings, and all that, some Norwegians think that we're just like America."

I told him that I didn't see it that way. Norway has kept its character in spite of these growth spurts.

"That's good," he responded.

Still, I expected Norway to be clean and spotless like Switzerland. In general the farms and towns were tidy, but this new influx of fast food--O'Martins hamburger joints and 7-11 convenience stores--led to litter around these stores.

In a way, I was relieved to find a blemish on paradise, and thankful that Norway was relaxed and not too fastidious. In the balmy summer, hairy men fresh off the beach walked around the grocery without shirt or shoes. One day, I went into a Narvesen Kiosk to buy a pen but couldn't find anyone to help me. I heard a toilet flush in back, and the clerk came out of the bathroom zipping up his fly and tucking in his shirt. When I offered to pay for one of the Bic pens, he let me keep it. "Shh, it is OK," he said.

In Norway, the concept of trespassing is vastly different. Swimmers can take a dip in the water no matter who owns the property, and hikers can supposedly camp out wherever they want for one night. I felt an air of permissiveness permeating the society that I thought made Norwegians far more relaxed than their American counterparts. That is, apart from the social norms of Janteloven to keep the people in line. Also, strict laws in some areas, such as those against alcohol, underscored the social engineering to try to better the country. Still, Norway has one of the lowest murder rates in the world, in spite of 720,000 registered firearms.

Those who do commit heinous crimes spend a maximum sentence of twenty-one years in prison. "But no one stays more than about five years in jail," my Norwegian teacher Sissel said only somewhat sarcastically. Rather than sometimes regressive punishments for the accused, the Norwegian government wants to reintegrate criminals into society so they aren't a burden. Therefore, criminals often spend five years in jail and get an education. "It's just like going to the university, only you leave jail without debt accrued from paying for room and board," Sissel said as she showed me a photo in our Norwegian textbook of a jail cell with homey wooden walls and a view of the fjord that looked better than student housing.

Being thrown in the clink in Norway isn't all bad, and the government picks up the bill. "See that?" a cab driver asked me one day pointing out the window. "That's Norway's second largest jail, but there are only about 10 percent Norwegians in there. The rest are people from other countries who come here and then commit a crime. It's really more like a hotel. They each have their own room with TVs and Internet access. Some have even studied to become lawyers while they were in jail, and the Norwegian government paid for everything. It's better to be a prisoner in a Norwegian jail than free in Albania or Belarus."

Despite some anti-immigrant feeling, newspapers reported that the population of Norway would actually decline without these new arrivals, and, once again, the welfare system accommodates them.

This social-democratic idea of wealth redistribution and equality extends to the workplace, where the wage gap between entry-level workers and CEOs doesn't begin to approach the obscene levels reached by many U.S. companies. Shannon, a Canadian living in Norway, said, "Back home when someone is rich and has been successful, people say, 'Good for you!' Here in Norway, I feel that people are very jealous if someone makes a lot more money. Many don't even think that their boss should make more than they do. I think you lose the incentive here to get a higher education or take risks like starting your own business."

SIDE NOTES: As you can see there are definite pros and cons to every way of living, but it is always nice to hear about how other people go about in this world--it is nice to know there isn't one way to go about it.

Continued....

"Everyone's income is public knowledge and is even listed on the internet," said Arild, an engineer for a small oil exploration business. I responded that people are probably very respectful of each other's privacy, right? "No way," he responded. "The day after the list income, everyone comes to work, and they are all very angry that so and so makes a little bit more. Often, it's not even a dollar more, but it causes many arguments."

Sissel added, "If you see that your neighbor makes a million kronor and the responsibilities in his job description don't really fit what he's being paid for, you can report them. This rarely happens, but the idea of it keeps people honest." Janteloven has found new legs with the internet.

Does it keep salaries more even? "Yes," confirmed Arild, "but then people figure that a regular construction worker can go to work right away and get a paycheck because he requires no education. Compared to that of a higher-paid manager or engineer who get years of education--and debt--the lifetime earning is about the same."

"I know a lot of people who live off the system and don't want to work," Rachel said. "They get a doctor to say that they're unable to work, and then they just receive money from the government."

I blushed because I was accepting the Norwegian government's health care and free university tuition. While I agreed with Sissel that I was "happy to pay taxes" because I was receiving so much in return, I soon understood what these higher taxes meant. Gasoline was five times what it cost in the U.S. The government even wanted to tax us on boxes of our own stuff that we shipped from Minnesota to ourselves in Norway. With this big government taxing--and helping--the Norwegians, it's no wonder that Oslo beat out Tokyo as the world's most expensive city.

THOUGHTS:

That chapter laid out the beliefs of the Scand. world fairly well. After talking and living in Sweden, a lot of the same "unity" beliefs are the same, but I believe Norway is a bit more strict in certain areas. Though the thought of their sense of helping one another is very appealing in the success of the human race as a whole, I still believe governments like the U.S. are right in paying specific salaries. Though we do not want every profession to be completed for money only, it makes sense to pay those who invest more time and work ethic and care. The ultimate goal for life is not making the most money, but rather finding a craft or way of survival that is sustainable and enjoyable and worth trying to perfect. If one truly enjoys helping people and aiding the sick, then a doctor should not worry about how much he or she is paid. It shouldn't be about the money, but rather improving our human race in existence--no one should help someone just for the money--eventually the work will be half-assed and lead to more problems with other people. But because of school finances, supporting a family, and the amount of hours worked throughout a year, I believe a doctor should get paid much more than one who may cut the grass. I also believe that we should help those on welfare--instead of complaining about those who "sit on their ass all day," saying that they are taking our money, we should just help them. I know every bit of money helps, especially when living in the U.S., but I sometimes feel that we are so ingrained with having to get money from the day we are born (in the U.S.), that we lose sight with what is actually important in life to find to ultimate happiness (I also believe that this happiness lies within mostly little things each day--we live for each day--long term accomplishment coupled with minor endorphin releasing happenings make ultimate happiness). Besides, if one feels that someone should not take his or her money for welfare taxes, then they should just switch places if they think sitting on their ass and receiving money is nice. Most people who receive welfare aren't at their utmost happiness--they may be content with their simple, comfortable lives, but they will never experience the euphoric-like emotions that come with accomplishment and discovering new things or learning new crafts and helping others. There is no sense of fulfillment--so if someone wants to live this boring, drone-like life, then sure they can take some of my money--since that is not what is going to prove my worth or sense of fulfillment.

This is what makes unveiling the best form of government very difficult because it is nearly impossible to have both forms of thinking together due to the incompatible nature of each. Where one wants their own things and life, another wants to share and help the great majority. I know that is a very vague, bold statement, but I'm just trying to explain my thoughts.

Anyway, I am sure most could care less about my comments since others have mostly been arguing these thoughts for years--I mainly wanted to give a small summary of another country that most do not know much about, and to show the differences and how some things are better and other things are lacking. I just find it interesting how Norway has so much oil and is a very rich, expensive country, but we rarely hear anything of them and issues regarding other parts of the world.

I'm tired as Hell--good night world

The more these blogs continue, the more I am feeling like some journalist sent to Sweden and asked to cover my experience for some magazine or newspaper. I say this only because I now find myself taking notes in my ipod any chance I get so I can jot down certain points that I would otherwise forget. Sometimes I'll look back and wonder why I wrote some things down--I guess sounded interesting at the time, but really were pretty minor details. If I don't have my ipod, I'll try and keep a mental note, but it usually escapes by the time I come to write.

Erek and I had a pretty good past week--still finding plenty to do each day and night. The past week was our final run of camp until August. It was the annual baseball camp--We had seen and taught roughly 800 kids over the school season, but only had about 20 kids for the camp--and most were already on the team. I think we didi a pretty good job making the school camps fun and enjoyable, but getting kids from Gavle to come out to a baseball camp everyday from 9-1 during their first week of summer vacation is more than difficult. We were able to get about 6 kids that were not originally affiliated with our program--so that's a plus I guess in the grand scheme of things. It was also nice having the same group for an entire week so we could get a lot of game time since that is one of the better ways to learn everything, The last day we had a mess of water balloons and tried to play various games, and though it was a good time (it was cold and rainy)--the 120 water balloons I filled were gone in minutes.

The above paragraphs were from about a month ago. Erek and I have been busy full time painting a friend's sister's home in a local suburb. Since the weather has been perfectly clear and sunny, it has been quite relaxing. We never expected Sweden to get this hot! Us and two other guys knocked out the entire house, garage, shed, and fence in about a month. We still have most of the fence left, but hope to finish it soon. Erek and I had never painted a house before so we pretty much followed the lead of the other guys, but since it was wanted all in white, it was pretty simple. Getting used to staying steady on high ladders and three coats later, we got a lot of work completed! In speaking of never painting before, Kristoffer explained that he had painted much before in the past, and also graduated high school (called gymnasium here) with a degree focused on carpentry. He explained that here during high school, most people choose a profession to focus on for a job out of high school. It is not as popular to always go to college right after high school, even though it is virtually free. People can actually go to high school up until 20 years of age if they want. I guess we have the same thing back home, called the career center, but it is less popular among the majority. You can also choose to take classes to help prepare for college as well, but a higher education isn't always the first thought. Basically, we let him do all of the woodwork. A couple of days we had taken a break to either go to the local beaches and golf. The beach wasn't you typical East Coast or West Coast style--many rocks and stones in the water--tough to walk or swim! Also, the water tasted nearly fresh, as the Baltic barely had any salt. The beach literally sprouted from a camp site area tucked back in the thicket of the wilderness of Sweden. Large towering trees (no surprise here) riddled the back-drop and covered everything, but a decently sized, sand area. Anywhere I stepped near the woods outside of the beach, I was swarmed by mosquitoes--gotta love Gavle. Although most things in Sweden are quite expensive, golf is actually pretty cheap! Makes no sense.... We were able to hit around 40 balls and golf nine holes all for about $16. It was a nice course too--short, but well kept.

This portion of the blog is going to skip around a bit since I haven't posted in what feels like months, plus, now have a decent amount of Gevalia extra dark roast coffee charging through me. I just finished laundry and yesterday was the first day that we haven't had to be anywhere in awhile---was nice... did absolutely nothing! It became one of those days that before I knew it, it was 9pm and all I had done is messed around on the television, looked at hostels and had eaten steadily for hours. For now I am about to recollect the past month and then head down to the gym and get things together for Europe. The last big thing I talked about was Midosommar, but I never really went into any depth. Long story short, Midsommar is the period of time (middle of summer--this year, June 25th) when the sun is up for the longest period of time (the longest day). It was pretty much constant daylight the entire time--maybe became dim for about an hour or two--definitely throws off the sense of time! We were invited by a friend on the team who is from Rattvik (the most Swedish place in Sweden--the true Sweden--where people go to experience the real culture--along with Leksand), to attend the Midsommar celebration in Leksand (a town right next to Rattvik). Leksand has the biggest Midsommar celebration and Sweden celebrates this time the most in general. It is a unique celebration to Sweden, hence why it is a big deal for the people and the country. We left for Rattvik--about an hour or two from Gavle-- on Thursday night after practice. On the way, we met up with another teammate to pick up some extra beer he had in a cellar (It seemed as if we drove about an hour into the middle of nowhere--all the way deep into the North woods and found a house tucked away)-Tomas had recently gotten married and had some cases left over from the wedding, so we decided to empty them. He lived in probably the most secluded, peaceful place in Sweden (well, from what we have seen)--Such fresh air and quiet.

After picking up the beer we headed over to Kristoffer's parent's place in Rattvik. Upon our arrival, they were the nicest people. They gave us our own room in what was basically an extra guest house. Kris said that growing up, he always had people stay there in the summer since they have much extra room--must have been awesome. They are settled right in the middle of a mountain within a village that perfectly overlooks the Siljan Lake--created by a meteor long ago--post card view! They had a small area for when they had horses on their lot and another large building for storage and more rooms--great spot. Everything was so green and vibrant--I never really grasped what everyone meant back in May when they would say that everything blooms a bright green, but I learned quickly when everything became lush.

On the verge of Midsommar!

I know there is definitely m’ore to life than baseball. It is only a game we have for competition, fun, fitness, skill, and entertainment among other things. Losing is just a part of the game—it happens. It is frustrating as a player, but now even more so as a coach, especially when I was brought here to coach and help the team become better and lead them finish in the playoff race. I take it personal when we lose; therefore I was fairly upset by the past weekend. The worst part is we could have easily beaten Sundbyberg in each game—each was close until the end. I should have gotten a few more hits, but couldn’t put enough in “hit” territory. I continue to cringe even more when we hit the ball well—people we starting to come alive and hit the ball solid—even off one of the National team pitchers. I was very pleased with some of our execution with bunts and hit and runs. There weren’t too many errors—the other team hit well when they needed too. When we got two outs in the bottom of the ninth, up by one run, no runners on, and still managed to lose, it hurts. I know baseball isn’t very popular here, but a loss is a loss. We needed to win both games in order to still have a good chance at the playoffs so in that sense I feel that I have failed to do my job since that was one of our goals. I can’t control everything, but I surely should have been able to better prepare our team to reach the playoffs. We certainly have a good enough team, and if most of the guys stick around and the youth teams continue to grow, Gefle will definitely be a higher contender in the future. We still are able to win the qualifying league, which enables our team to stay in the elite series. This is very possible, and will ensure that it happens. Other than that, it was still another unforgettable time with everyone on the team.

It has been quite some time from my last post and much has occurred as usual. Camps with the local schools are now over and we have our final, week-long baseball camp (9am-2pm) coming up tomorrow. So far, Olle told us that nearly 800 kids have came through the camps this year! It is always reassuring to know that many kids have attended and that some want to attend more. We have picked up roughly 5-6 new kids on the youth team! The annual baseball camp only has about 20 kids as of now and half of them are already on the team. It is really no surprise, and should be a great time.

The weather has been much more relaxing—everyone still says that it is really cold for this time of year, but Erek and I still think they are just trying to make Sweden sound nicer than it is (lol—kidddding). Midsommar is on its way I believe on June 22^nd—the longest day of the year with 24 hr. sunlight—it already stays light out pretty much 24 hrs., but I guess it will be much brighter during mid-June. We have plans to go to Leksand where they have an overwhelming amount of people gather for festival-like activities. A guy on our team, Kristoffer, said we could stay at his parents’ place. From what I picked up, there are several dances, including the frog dance that people complete in a circle around a giant pole—sounds hilarious, but should be a great time. I guess last year they broke a world record for midsommar when nearly 20,000 people gathered and danced. Now come to think of it, there are a lot of funny Swedish traditions. If I can remember correctly, Kris and Peter said that when two are getting married, sometimes they have a celebration either before or after the wedding where the men build some kind of pole or structure in front of their house. If the wife is able to bring it down or dissemble it, then she is the one who will technically “wear the pants” during their relationship and vice-versa. I am sure not everyone participates in every little tradition, but it made me wonder what kind of things are tradition in America, especially of peculiar behavior. Although most things are different, the bachelor party I attended appeared to be quite similar.

Upon our two games last weekend against Gotenberg, Peter, Tomas’ older brother, planned out a surprise bachelor party for Tomas who is getting married in June. Upon the end of the games, we headed for the locker room and surprised Tomas with a t-shirt that said something in Swedish (they told me, but I have already forgotten—something ridiculous). We turned up the music (ACDC of course) and gathered several drinks from a stocked fridge in the back closet. We literally began drinking and playing mini-games on the baseball field. The dugout was lined with beer and liquor. I believe Tomas was quite surprised, but whether he already knew or not, he was still having a good time. As I look back on it, the police would have broken something of this gathering up within the hour back in America. We had air rifles, golf clubs, footballs, etc… We competed in a shooting competition, golf shot game, and a shot-gun beer race. I thought I at least won the beer race, but too many factors attributed to arguing and no conclusion. I supposedly had too much beer on my shirt, and spit some out another time. I am always up for another challenge haha! After much team-bonding, Irish car-bombs, and non-sense, the raggers finally arrived! By the way, during the party, we spotted 3 kids on the other field basically hitting around a baseball and catching with hockey gloves that goalies use. I found this hilarious—ONLY in Sweden. I also couldn’t believe 3 kids on a Saturday night decided to go hit baseballs—I would never expect that in Sweden! I remember doing that back home, but here I would expect to see every kid hitting hockey pucks or soccer balls. You are probably wondering what I meant by, “raggers.” They are a specific group that only exists in Gavle that pride themselves on owning old American cars—Pontiacs, Fords, Chevy’s etc… They cruise around as a club (The Gavle Hillbilly’s) and slowly drive through town with very eccentric style and tattoos. They look like bikers as they wear patched, black leather jackets, thick black boots, and usually have dark hair with piercings all over. The nicest people you would ever meet, but just have their own group and style and passion (unique bunch).

They arrived right on time to take us to a town called, Sandviken, where we would see our team manager, Mattias, play bass in an Irish band at a bar named, Mulligan’s. Peter, Oskar, Joel and I hopped into the old beaten up Pontiac, and the boat-like gargles from the engine triggered. I already knew I was in for quite an experience. We drove into town and slowly rose through the city loop two times as if to show off our rides and stare at people. When looking back on the ride, we probably looked ridiculous as we suddenly pulled over by some building and about 15 guys got out of the cars to release the heavy bladder pressure of alcohol consumption. After the quick pit-stop, we headed for Mulligans.

The drive was fool of more consumption as we had a cardboard tray full of beer—it is legal here to drink as much as you want in the vehicle as long as the driver has nothing. We arrived at Mulligans and as we entered the place seemed a bit dead. Not saying we brought the party or anything, but a large group of drunken mid-20 year old kids can definitely cause some noise. As the band played on, we broke into what we may have thought to be an Irish jig or two, but really just a mess of jumping and legs kicking. I thought for sure that I was going to go sailing into the bandstand and wreck the place. Loud singing ensued to some Irish songs that I unfortunately do not know, but just yelling at any pitch seemed to do the trick.

After what seemed like hours of music and dancing, we finally decided to cut out when Mattias’ band had finished their setlist. It was nice to finally get together with everyone on the team and join on the common bond of celebration for Tomas. When leaving, it was a collective vote that we wanted to go back to Gavle and make it some to some other clubs, but as soon as we were picked up by the raggers and made our way home, the overwhelming rush of alcohol finally caught up to everyone, me in particular. About halfway home, I had the slight dizzy twisting feeling in my stomach and head and let’s just say I know when I am not going to hold back. I warned the driver to pull over and Peter helped me with the warning, but just as he stopped, I felt all four or so hamburgers screaming to get out of my alcohol-soaked stomach. The majority made it out of the vehicle, but no one is a perfect shot with vomit, so some stayed on the seat. They were actually very kind about it, assuring me that they would be in the same position the following week so it was no big deal. Bostrom actually made a funny comment, saying that I actually increased the value of the car by dressing it with a part of me—meaning the dirtier, the better—raggers. You would think that I would have learned to hold back after experience in college, but sometimes certain celebrations still get the best of me. Damn alcohol. Oh well, it made for a much less hungover Sunday. Everyone else seemed to be passed out in the car, so I guess at least I stayed awake haha. I quickly found out the next day how good kyckling kebab (chicken kebab) was at Peggy’s, a local grill in the shopping center behind our apt. Kebab is very popular here, and it usually means a thin sliced beef (kind of like a gyro) with lettuce and vegetables and a Greek-like white sauce. You can find it either in a pita wrap or by itself, but never like the shish style like back home. People find it crazy that we do not have it back in America, at least not where I am from—it is on every corner here! Everyone apparently had a pretty slow Sunday.

Erek and I are still planning possible trips with our vacation days. We asked several people and the big ones to try and see would be Paris, London, Barcelona, and Rome. We won’t be able to catch everything, and there are so many train options that it gets pretty exhausting to plan! We would like to try and take a train for the experience, but with planes being cheap and fast, they seem like the better fare. Either way, I am excited to see the different cultures and though there is plenty to see in America, there is so much more ancient history on this side of the globe. I have got to go finish the laundry since the booking system did not track my sign-up for this week. We had to hop through the window because they lock the doors and do not allow laundry after 9 or 10pm. As long as we plan ahead it isn’t too bad, but if we miss a day or do not book the room in time, we could be stuck with dirty clothes for awhile—pretty annoying. Gotta plan for the camps--goodnight

Random Jibberish

So I guess i am now a professional blogger. I never thought much about other blogs--you know, listing ideas and thoughts--one may think, "Who gives a shit!" But after writing and posting for sometime in what began for my parents and brother has made me change my mind. If I want to write, what does it matter if people care or not--hell maybe someone will actually change their mind because of something I say or spark a random thought from something I describe.

That being said, I had a weird train of thought the other day while I was getting ready in the morning. As I stared down at my watch, I began to think how long the damn thing has lasted! It is a simple Timex Ironman watch with a nylon/polyester velcro strap. I remember finding the watch in the Atlantic Ocean when I was I think a freshman in high school. We were at Cocoa Beach for our baseball trip during a break and I stumbled upon the working watch as it shined in the blue water. I did not use it a whole lot then since I never wore a watch until about my senior year. At one point in college the battery died. I replaced the battery just a couple years ago when I began working at Fossil since I had an unlimited supply of batteries to choose from. Anyway, as I looked at the watch, I began to effortlessly think about how its life could be compared to mine or anyone else's. Who knows what journey this watch had been on to get to where it is at this point, sweaty dangling from my wrist. No matter where this thing had started its life (back in some factory) to its first store and owner purchase, to the point where it became first abandoned or maybe several times, to where it ended with me, to how it went several years with no use, to finally now using it every second I can. It is actually an easy metaphor for someone's life. One begins somewhere in this world and slowly is exposed to more things as time progresses. One may find a period of steady comfort in one area or section of life, and then go into hiding for several years waiting for the next move or break. Something may happen (me becoming a coach, needing the watch more) to bring this life from its hiding and out into the open where it is experiencing something each day. No matter where the watch ends up or travels or no matter where life guides one another, we both keep ticking, keep moving forward. Our batteries may sometimes lose the energy, but all we ever need is a re-charge or an extra boost, some event, some sort of success to pick us back up to a full cell. My watch was in hiding for a while and is now thriving each day as it is needed for camps and practices--one's life has its ups and downs, its steady use and its feeling of uselessness, and it is up to us to sometimes wait and go with what is thrown at us, and or choose to do something to discover a new energy for our cell tanks. Eventually, after years and years of wear and tear, this watch will no longer be useful unless it is completely restored, and as for the human body, that is somewhat still out of reach (living forever is still just a fantasy in case you didn't know)--so in the long run, we will all one way or another, become old and tired, worn down physically, but until that last part of our working system is broken, we can change out as many batteries as we need in life. Some are as easy picking a free battery from the store you may have once worked, and others are as hard a searching several Radio Shacks to find one very rare fuel cell at an expensive cost. Whatever your battery needs be at the moment in life, just remember that it is always available in some form or another, you just have to search the right stores. Right now, Sweden has become my battery for this portion of my life, and I hope the next few that I need are just as rewarding! It is a pretty common trend that all of us hit some form of mid-life crisis- or a period where we are at our lowest energy, and need a new battery, a new motive to follow something else. I do not know what that feels like and have not reached that "limbo-like" period of life, but I do feel that when I get there, I will find a new reason to keep ticking. I have found that trying anything different at all will some how lift myself from the steady comforts of a monotonous life. Even if it means joining some random group, signing up for a class, changing the time you wake up in the morning, the bar you frequent etc... one way or another I feel something will occur to move oneself to a new part of life, a new adventure. As long as one plays his or her cards correctly (treating others well, sticking to goals), I feel things will come about to set oneself in the direction that best suits his or her lifestyle at the moment.

Think whatever you'd like regarding this random philosophical post. You sometimes never know what will creep into your head while you are making a bowl of cereal in the morning. This watch has definitely outlived its price---you should too.