Rawls & Me

Kasai

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Wed, 22 Jul 2026 07:33:42 +0000

From the depths of Djuphavsbadet to the skyline at Kasai, yesterday had it all, including a falafel at Davidshallstorg, which has been transformed from parking lots into an urban living room for the summer. At a time when public space is becoming increasingly scarce, it was uplifting to see the trend being reversed with ping-pong tables, outdoor chess sets, and community bookshelves.

Now on high-speed train 484 to Gothenburg, the coming week will be something of a logistical puzzle, with rental cars, a 34 km race on the Bjäre Peninsula, a flight to Umeå for Eddie's birthday, before I finally make it to Emmaboda on 28 July.

California weather

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Tue, 21 Jul 2026 09:54:47 +0000

After picking up some books at work, I boarded what has been my morning train for the last three years and, a couple of hours later, I was lacing up my running shoes in Västra Hamnen. Heading out into the wind in the most beautiful California weather, it was nevertheless with a heavy heart, having just learned that my long-term Umeå colleague Torbjörn had passed away. As one of our most senior professors, he was an exceptionally kind person who always took a genuine interest in the work of junior colleagues, and I know he will be deeply missed.

Sitting down for a moment at Djuphavsbadet, the vulnerability of it all was painfully apparent, reminding me of the words of Elio's father in Call Me by Your Name: "Our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once”.

Piccolo Primo Primitivo

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Mon, 20 Jul 2026 19:11:20 +0000

Twenty-two years ago, in Vienna, I picked up a copy of Charles Baudelaire’s On Wine and Hashish at Shakespeare & Company. I remember reading it shortly afterwards in the gardens of Schönbrunn. If asked about its contents today, I am afraid I do not remember much beyond the blurb: “Wine elevates the will; hashish annihilates it”.

After finishing my second pedagogical portfolio assessment of the summer, I fell asleep on the couch earlier today, something that has only happened a handful of times in recorded history. Waking up, I felt almost as though I were jet-lagged but, eventually, managed to get my act together and head out for a five-kilometre run along the sea.

Returning home, I found a small can of Piccolo Primo Primitivo from Puglia (made from the same grape that is known as Zinfandel in California). Best served at 16–18 degrees, it reminded me that I really need to locate my copy of Roger Scruton's I Drink Therefore I Am. Yet, with every sip, geographical boundaries seemed to blur and, far from being territorial in the way that Scruton suggests, wine more often appears to transcend place and time, transporting me across continents and decades.

Elsinore

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Sun, 19 Jul 2026 19:12:38 +0000

What better way to end two blissful days in Denmark than with a chilly swim next to Hamlet’s castle in Helsingør. With Kullen looking both familiar and oddly unfamiliar from this side of Öresund, I finally sensed an end to all the turbulence. Stopping by Værftets Madmarked for some post-swim asado and a cold lager: time for all the winding roads from eastern Småland to the world – and the solace of certainty.

A few hours later, I was back in Halmstad, where the heatwave had faded and a light rain accompanied me out to Skulpturplatsen and back on my evening run. A day on my own now awaits before heading down to Malmö on Tuesday and then back into full parent mode again.

Villa Copenhagen

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Sun, 19 Jul 2026 15:24:47 +0000

Nuclear news

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Fri, 17 Jul 2026 13:52:05 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Fri, 17 Jul 2026 07:06:26 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Fri, 17 Jul 2026 06:39:50 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Tue, 14 Jul 2026 12:39:36 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Mon, 13 Jul 2026 09:41:13 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Sun, 12 Jul 2026 10:56:22 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Sat, 11 Jul 2026 16:57:21 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 12:04:29 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Mon, 06 Jul 2026 10:11:35 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Mon, 06 Jul 2026 07:08:52 +0000

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.

Secret Garden

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Sun, 05 Jul 2026 08:07:09 +0000

Every July, Harwich hosts a "Secret Gardens" weekend when more than two dozen hidden courtyards, medieval walled gardens, and private resident gardens are opened to the public. By pure coincidence, Sofi and I happened to be here on exactly the right weekend. Together with the murals and one of Britain's first cinemas – the so-called Electric Palace – Harwich made quite an impression on me, despite its otherwise rather industrial character. After all, neighbouring Felixstowe is home to the UK's largest container port.

Watching Stena Hollandica arrive from the Netherlands, I briefly regretted not booking the journey home via Bruges. Then again, Ryanair made me an offer I could not refuse – the flight from Stansted to Gothenburg cost something like £25. So, instead of crossing the Channel, Sofi and I will be heading back into London today.

My body is still aching a little after yesterday, but after more than ten hours of sleep and a lovely breakfast I am generally feeling fine. Most importantly, my left knee is completely pain-free, which is reassuring given that it was one of the reasons I decided to stop after 80 kilometres.

50 miles

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Sat, 04 Jul 2026 16:04:28 +0000

With 25k steps already in my legs after our day in London and the accidental Airbnb adventure, I was sent off together with the other runners by the super-friendly race director Chris at nine sharp.

During the pre-race briefing, I had noticed a couple of Norwegian and German flags, but otherwise I seemed to be the only non-UK participant.

Having activated my satellite tracker, the first twenty kilometres were absolutely lovely, winding through broadleaf woodland on wonderfully runnable trails. Around me were stories of people who had finished both UTMB and Western States, making my own ultra résumé pale by comparison. Chatting with a guy who had done the race three times and who was carrying a large handheld GPS device, I seemed to have found the perfect partner for the approaching night. Unfortunately, the other guy we were running with started falling repeatedly – full Bergslagsleden style on perfectly flat ground – and we all started to get worried about him.

Twenty-eight kilometres into the race, our designated navigator, wearing a large yellow backpack with Ultimate Direction branding, led us across a graveyard and up to a church that looked suitably ghostly just after midnight. He clearly knew what he was doing though and, in no time at all, we reached the first, and extraordinarily well-stocked, checkpoint. Indulging in watermelon, bananas, and oranges, I felt strong and ready to take on the night.

Running across fields of tall grass, the runner who had fallen earlier developed worsening back pain and eventually called his wife to pick him up at the next checkpoint, another 21 kilometres down the trail.

Passing the marathon mark in 5 hours and 22 minutes, I was starting to slip below my ideal pace and, with another thirty kilometres still to go until the third checkpoint, I began feeling unwell – a feeling that was only briefly interrupted when a badger suddenly jumped out of the bushes and collided with me.

While I have experienced nausea during races before, this was on a completely different level, seriously making me wonder how I would be able to continue.

By dawn, the big yellow moon had turned white as I stopped to photograph the thirteenth-century Fairstead Church, with its extensive use of old Roman bricks. Slipping into the Co-op in Coggeshall, I bought a milkshake and a sandwich, which temporarily made me feel better. Yet, passing field after field completely exposed to the blazing sunshine, the nausea soon returned, and I made the difficult decision to DNF just after my watch made the 75k beep. The decision itself immediately made me realize just how miserable I actually felt, making the final five kilometres to the third checkpoint and my drop bag absolutely awful.

Once I had saved the activity to Strava, I more or less collapsed outside the Shoulder of the Mutton. Fortunately, the race organiser's parents were driving supplies down to the finish in Harwich and, in a sudden stroke of luck, I was able to sleep for a while in their car before waking up right outside the Pier Hotel.

While I am feeling incredibly disappointed with my performance, I am also grateful that I had the wisdom not to attempt the remaining 50 kilometres under the glaring sun for another ten hours. Together with Sofi, I walked over to the finish line to cheer on the runners still coming in, said goodbye to Chris one last time, and watched the high tide at nearby Dovercourt Beach.

Trespassing

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Fri, 03 Jul 2026 16:30:30 +0000

Since I am not at all into sports, I had completely missed the fact that the Wimbledon Tennis Championships are taking place this week and that there are also several major concerts in London, meaning that hotels were either sold out or outrageously expensive. Fortunately, I had an old stash of Hyatt points saved up from my many road trips in the US, so instead of paying £650 for a night at the Andaz Liverpool Street, I redeemed a room for free.

After a sumptuous breakfast at the Andaz, Sofi and I took the bus up to Regent’s Canal for some slow strolling along the green waterways of London, before walking through Shoreditch to my long-time favourite bagel place on Brick Lane. Trying to keep my step count down, we then caught another bus to Bankside for a visit to Tate Modern and a long-anticipated Singaporean lunch at Elizabeth Haigh’s Mei Mei, made famous by Uncle Roger.

Equipped with an iced mocha latte, it was then time to take the Central line all the way to its eastern terminus in Epping. Once there, we ran out of luck. With the roads jammed, our Uber requests were repeatedly turned down and, with no taxis in sight, we had no choice but to drag our bags through the afternoon heat towards our Airbnb. Following Google Maps, we were directed onto a public footpath and across a large fallow field. When we finally reached what Google insisted was the correct address, an angry woman accompanied by a large dog informed us that “this is private property – you have to leave”.

Having become used to the friendliness of people I meet while hiking in the UK, the encounter was a reminder that not everyone is equally welcoming. Fortunately, after a bit more searching, we eventually found The Annex, where Sofi is staying tonight while I head off to run the Essex Way Ultra.

Before sending me off, Sofi’s husband Stefan shared a traditional Irish blessing that I hope to carry with me over the coming 132 kilometres:

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
May rain fall soft upon your fields.
Until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Andaz Liverpool St

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Fri, 03 Jul 2026 07:14:25 +0000

30 hours

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Thu, 02 Jul 2026 15:45:27 +0000

With less than thirty hours to go until the race starts in the eastern outskirts of London, I have spent the day going through the mandatory kit list and making sure I have everything I need. Because I decided not to check a bag this time, I am limited in how much liquid I can bring with me. This means that I still need to pick up some more Maurten gels tomorrow in London but, otherwise, I should be good to go.

Trying to calm my race nerves, I stopped by Nordic Wellness for some upper-body strength training in the morning, being careful to avoid any core exercises so as not to repeat the same mistake I made leading up to Kyrkmilen in 2021.

Sofi, who will be my support crew, has now joined me, and we are back by the big windows in the Landvetter lounge as we wait for our 737-8AS to arrive from Gdańsk and carry us across the North Sea, hopefully undeterred by the circling thunderstorms. Before the race starts at 9 p.m., we plan to swing by Tate Modern, which is currently showing both Frida Kahlo and Tracey Emin.

1,399 kilometres

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Wed, 01 Jul 2026 13:27:29 +0000

With only a few minutes to spare, I returned my rental Volvo EX30 to OKQ8 on Hisingen. Having driven a whopping 1,399 kilometres over the last three days, I have truly been everywhere from Borås to Äspet, and consumed more than my fair share of espresso caramel milkshakes while waiting for the car to recharge.

Wanting to make the absolutely most of my rental, I drove down to Smithska Udden this morning for a skinny dip in the sea. Again, I was practically alone, perhaps due to yesterday's football game, and the water felt straight out of a fairy tale.

Later, after ten kilometres on the rowing machine and some weight lifting at NW Lindholmen, I squeezed in another swim, this time at Pöl Harbour. Having not worked as much as I should have over the last few days, I will now return to my laptop, even if today officially marks the start of my summer vacation. At some point, however, I need to make sure that everything is packed and ready for tomorrow's flight to London Stansted and Friday's great race.

Nieuw Statendam

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Mon, 29 Jun 2026 20:12:59 +0000

I arrived at the breakwater, Parapeten, just as the majestic 300-metre Nieuw Statendam passed through Öresund. After a day that truly had everything, from Dirty Dancing to an icy swim in Hanöbukten, I knew I had to end it by catching the sunset at the place where my memories and dreams always seem to converge.

Now, waiting at Stattena for my rental EX30 to recharge so I can get back to Halmstad and Hallandsgatan, I am becoming increasingly uncertain about my upcoming ultra. With daytime temperatures above 30 degrees expected, and being deeply concerned about rhabdomyolysis, I remain undecided about whether it would be wise to start. In any case, I will only do so if I feel I have a reasonable chance of finishing. If the forecast holds, there is also a possibility that the event itself will be called off, regardless of what I decide. While it would, of course, be disappointing to have trained this much and not race, it is hardly worth risking kidney failure.

Fully charged

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Mon, 29 Jun 2026 07:37:14 +0000

Six months after my EV adventures along the Autoestradas do Atlântico, I am back behind the wheel of an electric car, this time taking William to the Swedish Chess Championships in Jönköping, delivering lots of Lego to Halmstad, and driving Eddie to the airport for his eleven-day trip to Hungary.

Waiting for the car to charge, I completed this month's rowing challenge next to Road 40 in Borås. 192 kilometres later, I topped up while swimming in the waters of Kattegat.

Travelling with two kids, whose energies you constantly have to balance, can be pretty demanding. Driving with just one at a time, however, is simply bliss: time to listen to each other's Spotify favourites and have those unforced conversations that so rarely come about in days packed with obligations and reminders.

And now the conclusion

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Sat, 27 Jun 2026 17:47:03 +0000

Far from the epic train drama of August 2023, I only ended up spending a couple of extra hours on Västgötaslätten before receiving the infamous text message – promising 3,000 SEK for alternative modes of transportation – that Swedish Railways sends out when everything else has failed. That allowed me to take a taxi from Alingsås to Gothenburg – fifty kilometres for 1,450 SEK – and get home before the last light had fully faded.

Then, on Friday, I attended the final TRAINS seminar this semester on two very different topics: the statutory duty to report suspected child abuse and the long shadow of the 1613 peace between Sweden and Denmark in Knäred. Having these kinds of eclectic seminars is one of the real pleasures of working at a smaller university college.

Otherwise, with a massive heatwave dominating northern Europe, daytime temperatures have been hovering around thirty degrees, making running feel more akin to training for Badwater 135. After four consecutive 80-kilometre weeks, I have decided to prioritize tapering this week and instead focus on completing this month's rowing goal, while, of course, cooling off a bit in the lakes.

Derailed

noreply@blogger.com (Rasmus Karlsson) — Thu, 25 Jun 2026 15:06:44 +0000

After all my years traversing the railroads of Sweden, I have developed a rather stoic equanimity when it comes to delays. Yet, when I received a text message about a derailed cargo train between Borås and Gothenburg, I immediately knew that this would be a long evening. As such, I went over to the bistro and picked up the new Adobe Rosé from Valle Central in Chile, a caprese salad, and one additional bottle of water.

Having passed Södertälje, I also have a novel by Annie Ernaux and lots to digest after my two days in Stockholm. So, right now, I am more in popcorn mode, wondering if we will be rerouted north via Trollhättan or, perhaps more excitingly, south via Hässleholm and Halmstad.