Love My Body

They're etched into my mind like a scene from a horror movie that I wish I could forget but instead gets played over and over again; who it was, the look on their face, the sound of their voice, the words they said and how they made me feel - ashamed, worthless, fat.

I can remember every single time anyone ever commented on my weight or my body: "you've got a big tummy" , "as an athlete you should lose a few kilos" , "you're getting fat".

The rules started with "no sweets one month before the major championships". Then it became two months, three months, six months but I would always allow myself to eat them again afterwards. Each year, the rules got stricter and the list of forbidden foods got longer. I was already training as much as I could so I didn't understand why my body didn't look like the other athletes' bodies. When I looked in the mirror, all I saw was what other people had told me they saw and suggested that I change.

Leading up to WOC 2016, my rules about food extended from the start of the competition season in April all the way to the final training camp in October. I allowed myself one day of reprieve after WOC ended but even then I still felt guilt about the rules that I was breaking. If anybody commented on my weight it was to say they were concerned at how small I was getting. All I felt was accomplishment because that meant that the rules I was forcing myself to follow so strictly were finally working. After that last training camp, I thought "well, this is my season break so it must be okay for me to not follow these rules for a week before I start training again". That week of eating as much of whatever I wanted turned into two weeks, one month, three months... once I had started, it was impossible for me to stop.

And so commenced a very fast downwards spiral into bulimia - binging and purging - and the tough climb back up.

Photo: Jaana Honkanen

I had to learn how to accept and love my body no matter what shape it's in. I had to appreciate my body for how strong it is, how fast it can run and that it enables me to do all the activities that I love. One of the hardest things was learning how to bring foods over from the dark side; to trust myself to eat the foods that I had considered "not allowed" for so long. I could never have just one piece of candy. I either had to eat none at all or, if I had one, then I might as well just eat everything.

The first time I ate lösgodis again (those candies you pick and choose from bins), I went with Andreas to the supermarket and carefully picked out two of each of my favourite candies. We then sat together in the park sharing in savouring the chewiness and the flavours. Andreas said that he had never seen anybody eat candy so slowly. To me, that was the greatest compliment.

I've learned to fuel my body with food and the only rule that I have is that there are no rules. Yesterday, I went to the supermarket by myself, I picked out two of each of my favourite candies and bought a tub of ice cream. And as I sat at home with my bowl of ice cream, I thought back to just a year ago when something like this was absolutely impossible. I felt the love that I have for my body and the appreciation for how far I've come. I cried eating that bowl of ice cream, not because I felt that I shouldn't be eating it, but because it tasted so damn good.

Yes, nutrition is a part of being an athlete and yes, it can be a part of competition preparation. Without the right fuel, the engine isn't going to get very far. There is, however, a line between where it is constructive towards athlete development and where it is destructive. Absolutely nobody, athlete or not, should feel that their body is not good enough or that their success hinges upon the way their body looks or a number on a scale. We are all so, so much more than that.

I am not a specialist in nutrition or eating disorder recovery. I had to reach out to a lot of different people to ask for help and to learn from them. These are my experiences of suffering and recovering from a very difficult relationship with food. If you are struggling with similar thoughts, obsessions and feelings, please reach out to someone - me, a friend, a family member, a doctor, a coach - for help. I promise you that the ice cream is better on the other side.

Comeback or Coming Forward?

The events of January as seen from the perspective of my psychiatrist:

Week 1: "I have no idea what I'm going to do after I graduate or how I'll be allowed to stay in Europe!" (wringing hands)

Week 2: " I had a phone interview yesterday and am going to Helsinki on Monday for a face-to-face interview!" (nervously bouncing in chair)

Week 3: "I got the job! I started working yesterday and am moving to Helsinki in June!" (eyes wide in shock)

It was a whirlwind few weeks to say the least and my psychiatrist could hardly keep up with these fast-paced changes let alone me!

Through a series of fortunate events, my Master's thesis super-advisor also happened to be involved in a start-up company - GlucoModicum. The company's vision is to develop a non-invasive glucose sensor to be used by diabetics. In my Master's thesis, I had already been working on a sensor to detect specific DNA strands so it wasn't a big jump to start working with glucose. In fact, the more I prepared for the job interview, the more I realised that this is what I had spent all these years studying for. If there ever was an opportunity to seize, it was this one!

As the interview turned from my experience as a chemist and towards when I could move to Helsinki, my head started spinning with the reality of the changes that were to come.

I had made a plan, you see. My plan was that I would take 5 months off running, in January I would find my previous joy and motivation for training and by April I would be in top shape and ready for a strong comeback at the competitions. During this time, I would also finish the experimental section of my Master's thesis and then leisurely write it in time to graduate in June.

Well, getting a job in January certainly put a twist onto those plans!

It was extremely difficult to transition from being a student to being an employee. As a student, what I did in the lab was for me and my education and it was enough. As an employee, I felt like I could never do enough, that I didn't know enough and the pressure I put on myself was immense. Thankfully, after enough positive self-talk, that has levelled out over time to a point where I can say "I don't know but I will try to find out" and I can finish off a workday with the thought "I did my best today and it was enough".

I love using what I have learned to contribute and be part of a project that is much, much bigger than me!
Photo: Jaana Honkanen

The whole comeback part has been a bit more complicated. I tried so hard to "come back"; to find what it was that I had before - the enthusiasm for training and the determination to excel in sport. I tried so hard to come back but eventually I had to, instead, try to let go. I had to come to terms with the fact that this just wasn't the right time; that by trying to come back, I would actually be going backwards. And that was the last thing that I wanted.

When I took a complete time-out in the fall, I had understood that I was in a very fragile position. I was in a lot of pain physically and emotionally but inside I had found this flickering but bright flame. And that flame grew brighter when I was outside, just walking through the forest and breathing in the fresh air. However, I knew that it was the type of flame that if I blew too hard it would flicker out.

I knew that if I were to continue moving forward, I would have to do something differently.

It started with focusing on my studies, it developed into starting this job as a chemist and it's turned into accepting that, right now, I just enjoy being active as a way to move my body and feel alive. I tried to follow a training program and I tried to imagine myself competing at WOC but it just wasn't right. It felt constricting and it felt scary and it felt too soon.

While I won't be competing at any international events this year, it has been important for me to try out competitions on a smaller scale and run for my ever-supportive club, Angelniemen Ankkuri. It's been frustrating to face the fact that I only have two speeds, walking and running, but running for my teammates inspires me to do my best no matter my physical shape at the moment.

Sometimes though, I still get really, really sad. Striving to be a world-class athlete has been such a steadfast part of my life for so many years now. Life changing decisions were made because I wanted to explore and improve in new ways. After putting so much into a sport, it's hard to take a step away from it all; not necessarily because I want to, but because I feel that it is a choice that I have to make in order to heal and to grow.

A 16-year old Emily competing at JWOC for the first time and
dreaming to, one day, be at the top of that international stage.

It is the art of letting go, of looking for a way forward rather than trying to claw my way back, of being honest with myself and open to whatever may be in store for me next. Usually, if I let go of my expectations, things turn out even better than I could have planned them myself.

Sometimes the grief has been overwhelming - while running, looking at a results list, watching an international competition, scrolling through social media - I am reminded of all that I do not have anymore. But I have to remind myself of all that I am other than an elite athlete: a Master's student, an employee, a healthy human being, an attentive friend, a supportive teammate, a loving sister and daughter...

It sure has been a tricky route to navigate so far but today was different than yesterday and who knows how it will be tomorrow.

Curiosity and Wonder

Just over one year ago now, I was incapable of orienteering without breaking down into tears. In the middle of the forest, alone with my thoughts, I would be overwhelmed by a wave of panic and despair. It was confusing for me since, for so long, orienteering had been my "safe place", the way that I could escape from the stresses of life. I kept pushing myself though, which lead me to the bottom of a depression where I didn't even know how to be alive anymore. At that time, I decided that WOC was so important to me that it was worth finding my way out again. I think that I believed that if I made it to that World Champs start-line and raced well, then somehow I would be okay again.

Photo: Jaana Honkanen

Looking back, I can see that it was the right decision for me to make at the time since it gave me motivation to climb out of the desolate place I had found myself in. I ate because I needed fuel to train, I visited psychiatrists, sports psychologists and doctors all because, more than anything, I wanted to be healthy at WOC.

It was a very constructive goal with many positive effects. However, it was also destructive in the sense that everything action I took was for WOC. I was so single-minded in my purpose that I had no wiggle-room, no room to just breathe. It was as if I had built myself a long corridor that lead all the way to WOC.  It had strong and sturdy walls to support me but there wasn't space to spread my arms and the air was musty and hard to breathe.

The panic attacks started happening again while orienteering.

Thankfully I did have those strong walls to lean on, my support network of psychiatrists, psychologists and doctors. I made it to the start-line at WOC and raced with my whole heart but when it was over I still had the same negative feelings that would come surging up when I was left alone with myself.

After the summer competitions, I didn't touch a map for 4 months. I still went out into the forest, though, and was able to see it through the eyes of just Emily rather than Emily the orienteer. I didn't have anywhere to go or any controls to find. I was free to wander and to explore and to play. Over the last two months I've slowly started training more and some of those trainings have been with a map. Some have been pure joy and others have had the twinges of the past panic. I kept trying though because I didn't feel fair that I couldn't do the sport that, deep down, I knew that I loved so much. I kept trying because I didn't want to let fear control my life.

To help, one sports psychologist suggested going back into the past and finding a memory of orienteering where there was no pressure, only pleasure. I ended up travelling back to when I was 12 years old at my first Canadian Championships. I had just learned how to read those brown lines on the map, contours. I can remember the feeling of awe as I looked at the map and it came alive with the ups and downs of the terrain. I can remember seeing every leg as a challenge of how to get around each of the hills and depressions. I can remember the curiosity I felt while navigating through the features and the absolute wonder when I found each control. I was 12 and I was just playing.

COC's 2004 in Whitehorse, Yukon. Long Lake comes alive!

If my mind wanders to competing at an elite level again while training, which it often does, I still feel the same panic building in my chest. But rather than let it take over, I stop and I relive those feelings of curiosity and wonder. I come back to the present and all of a sudden I'm living the training from a completely different perspective. I'm no longer in that long corridor to performing perfectly at WOC but out in the nature with so many discoveries to make. I can take the time to stop at the top of a hill and take in the view; I can make it into a challenge to relocate after losing contact with the map rather than feeling the pressure of "losing time". Today I stopped to listen to the wind as it tinkled through the frozen pine needles of the trees around me. The air was filled with the sound of a thousand wind chimes overhead. Today I was able to smile, to breathe, to play and to experience the sport I love with curiosity and wonder.

Photo: Jaana Honkanen

Self-love

Last spring, the very talented photographer, Jaana Honkanen, and I worked on a photography project together. In the beginning, I wrote that:

"For me it is a journey towards acceptance, compassion and love for myself just the way I am."

For five months, we documented all sides of what it was like for me to be an elite athlete: the sunny and the somber. I wanted to show the joy that training and competing gave me, but also the struggles that I was facing as my own expectations became higher and tougher to reach, including depression and bulimia.

As the project came to a close during the summer, we took this celebratory photo together as a way to  show the progress that we had made while still coming full circle.

The first photo of the series, taken in March 2017.

The last photo, taken in July 2017. And this time we
enjoyed the heck out of that ice cream!

Through this project, I had been able to face certain parts of myself that, previously, I had just tried to push down: the weight of expectations as well as body image and struggling against the power of an eating disorder. More importantly though, I was better able to see the good parts of me that shone through. I was able to see my smile as it was captured in a moment of joy, I was able to see that I am beautiful and I was able to see that I am strong.

I will be forever grateful to Janna for the opportunity to grow and to learn in this way. She helped me feel so comfortable while being in the focus of a camera lens and has been a loving support through all the ups and downs of the competition season.

Being able to love myself didn't happen overnight, however, and I have continued on this journey since then. I had pushed myself so hard and so far to be able to race at the World Championships that I was completely and utterly exhausted by August. Physically, I was injured, and emotionally, I was falling back into the old unhealthy eating behaviours just to try to cope from the stress and negative feelings in my body.

Despite feeling like I was failing time and time again, with the help of many, many caring people around me, I kept trudging forward on my quest to find self-love.

It came little by slowly.

One day it was having the thought:

"I don't want this eating disorder to affect my health negatively so that I can't be active and do the sports I love. I don't want to hurt myself anymore."

Another day, it while practising yoga when I came into a pose and actually smiled. I smiled because I could feel my body move, my muscles contracting and stretching, and my chest expanding as I inhaled deeply. I smiled because I felt good and because I had found a connection within myself that had previously been blocked off by a wall of toxic thinking.

And finally, it came over time when I reintroduced myself to Little Emily.

Little Emily

I have her taped on the wall next to my bedroom mirror so that every time I look at myself, I see that small, mischievous face as well. I make sure to tell her that I love her and that I would never hurt her. I tell her that she is absolutely adorable and that she doesn't have to be afraid. I tell her:

"I will take care of you."

The more I say those words to her, the more I am able to say them to myself, 20 years older but with the same smiling dimples and big ears.

Over time, I have been able to learn enough healthy coping behaviours that bulimia has become only thoughts as opposed to actions. I take it one day at a time but, when I look back over the last few months, I feel hope where there used to be none. It may sometimes feel like a long and gruelling journey, but when I am able to look within and feel love for who I am, then I know that it has all been for the best.

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To see more of Jaana's photographs, visit her webpage and to see the photo documentary along with my written interpretations, visit my Instagram or the Emily project.

Time to take a breath

In the winter of 2014, I was interviewed by Merja Kallikari as a Canadian orienteer just having moved to Finland. We talked about training with the Turku Sports Academy and joining the club Angelniemen Ankkuri. This autumn, Merja contacted me again but with a very different type of interview in mind. She had been following my updates on social media about the difficulties of this last year and proposed writing an article in the Turku newspaper about what I've learned about myself in sport and in life. 

My first thought was to be terrified about putting my story into someone else's hands to write, but the more I thought about it the more I accepted that this was a valuable opportunity. It was an opportunity to reach out to a broader audience and share my experiences in finding hope within despair and self-compassion within self-criticism. The interview itself was a very supportive and constructive process with Andreas being by my side and Merja sending the article to me and discussing any last revisions I wanted to make. I often feel powerless when it comes to media publications so being given an option for input was a very refreshing experience. 

Together it feels like we have created a piece that I dare to hope has made a difference in somebody's life. Whether it has touched them personally or just given them insight into the pressures and mental health issues of elite sport, I hope that it has encouraged them to reach out or to speak out. 

With the help of my wonderful roommate, Emmi, we have translated the article into English which can be read below. The original article in Finnish can be found here. 

Photo: Riitta Salmi

Time to take a breath

Emily Kemp, the Canadian national team orienteer and Turku resident, ponders the continuation of her career. Last winter, high expectations and pressure got to the top athlete.

Emily Kemp smiles a lot. A good laugh accompanies her speech, but her voice also includes giddiness and uncertainty.

The Canadian top orienteer has not competed since the beginning of August. A foot injury is annoying, but the reason for the break is more serious. 25-year-old Kemp is even wondering if she will continue her career at the international level.

- I'm trying not to worry about next year and my career. If I continue, I will continue because I want to and not because I need to, Kemp says.

She has a tough year behind her, and life still feels like a roller coaster. The scariest part was last December when Kemp was barely able to get out of bed. An eating disorder and depression drove the orienteer to the bottom where she eventually understood that she needed help.

- How did I get here? Why and when? These are the big questions that I always ask myself. I believe that there are many contributing factors, but the most important thing now is to concentrate on recovering.

Kemp's life has focused on one goal for many years. She moved from Ottawa at the age of 18 to St. Etienne, France, in order to develop as a top orienteer. Three years ago, the Canadian headed to Turku, Finland, to learn skills in Nordic terrain.

You can say that Kemp was successful in her tough goal when she reached the fourth place at the Swedish World Championships in 2016, and even after the dark winter, a fifth place in Estonia. Achievements are great, but Kemp was doing badly. Her mind was left to wander through dreadful thoughts.

- Competition at the international level is really demanding. I no longer controlled the pressure. The better the results I got, the more pressure I felt, Kemp says.

- It's unbelievable how negative the dialogue is in my head. I would not treat anyone else as badly as I treat myself.

Kemp sees the bottom during the winter as a wake-up call that shook her to realize that she could not treat herself that way indefinitely.

- In a way, I am grateful that I went down, because I got the chance to look at my life and change my thinking to be healthier. However, change is really difficult when I have lived and reacted in a certain way for years.

First of all, Kemp had to accept that a top athlete is not a machine that is indestructible, but a person with feelings and fears.

- I found it difficult to admit that problems do not disappear by themselves, but that I need some help.

Despite difficulties, Kemp decided to continue to aim for the Estonian World Championships. The goal, set for the summer, got her out from the pit and helped her look ahead. She had a reason to take care of herself.

- Fortunately, I reached the top six at the World Championships, so not all the effort was futile. It was hard to put myself together for the race, but, on the way, I learned a lot about myself and my attitude towards elite sports, Kemp sighs.

 

Photo: Riitta Salmi

Now is the time to take a breath. During the autumn, Kemp has been focusing on chemistry studies at Åbo Akademi University and has done things that the top orienteer does not usually have time for. She can even go outdoors without thinking about how many intervals or miles she should run.

- Even though I’m not training, I still have to have order and routines in my life, so that the negative thoughts and emotions do not float to the surface. Otherwise I drift and go back to my bad habits.

Kemp is far from home, so support from the local orienteering community has been important. Likewise for the support from her boyfriend, Andreas Hougaard Boesen, who is in the Danish national team.

Boesen has encouraged Kemp to speak openly about her problems. Images and texts in social media have revealed the darker sides of the bright athlete.

- Although my smile and laughter are real, I want people to see and know the whole Emily. I'm trying to accept that life is not a mere victory and also show it to others.

Kemp has received encouraging messages from her competitors and people she does not even know.

- I wasn’t expecting to receive this much feedback. Many have been grateful for my openness because they are now experiencing or have experienced something like this. I am happy that I decided to be open, because it has helped not only me, but apparently others as well, Kemp smiles.

- If I had isolated myself, it could have ended really badly.

Kemp says she is hopeful that she will recover. Even though the journey is long, it's relieving to know that I’m not alone. The orienteer hopes that pressure and mental issues faced by elite athletes could be discussed more often.

- Every athlete handles the pressure in their own way. Everyone does not want to show their feelings and weaknesses, but at worst this pressure can bring a lot of negativity into their lives. At least, nobody should feel that their body is not good enough or doesn’t look right.

Kemp knows that mental problems are difficult to talk about. The most important thing is that someone cares and listens.

When I was struggling and surrounded by darkness, it was hard to believe that I would ever get better. But I’ve always had hope, and that hope is something that I've wanted to share with anyone who is struggling as well, Kemp says.

- Ups and downs are a part of life. You will overcome the difficulties when you stay positive and find reasons to smile.

Kemp dares to smile and laugh because her cheerful side is as true as the sad.

Wherever you go...

... And there you are.

This simple expression has taken on so much meaning for me when, all of a sudden, I found myself re-starting my life in a new country, a new city, and creating a new home. About a month ago I stepped off a plane onto Finnish soil... and there I was!

Ever since my first Junior World Champs in Sweden in 2008 I have always wanted to live and orienteer in Scandinavia. After finishing my Bachelor's degree in France I decided that it was time to put Phase II of my master plan into action. Complete chaos ensued with university and visa applications, packing and last-minute furniture selling but, skipping the details, I can now say that I am an official Master's degree student in Turku, Finland!

How did it all fit?! Thanks to Amel and Philippe for the skateboards for easy transportation! photo: Amelie Chataing

This will be my fifth year of living in Europe and, honestly, I haven't seen the time fly by! I feel so fortunate to have gotten the opportunity to live and train in France because it really has shaped me into the human being and athlete I am today. I learned so much from star athletes like Thierry Gueorgiou, Amélie Chataing, Philippe Adamski. I am so grateful for the overwhelming support from the French National Team, le Pôle France, and my French club le NOSE; they were all fantastic!!!

The French Connection: when it all started in 2009! 

Can never get enough of these smiles! photo: Theau le Loch

JWOC 2012 memories :) photo: Simon Leroy

I learned many things the hard way: how to properly take care of an injury, how to not over-train myself during a training camp, and how to balance training, school and sleep. However, I have also been so inspired by seeing things first hand: what happens behind the scenes before the big race day and the dedication and commitment required to really go after your dreams. All this knowledge and these unforgettable experiences are what I'm able to take away from my time in France as I strive to become an even better orienteer here in Finland.

Incredible training camps with the French team! photo: Willy Guillemin

Since this isn't the first time that I've moved to a new country I knew what to expect when I would have to furnish a new apartment, sort out a bank account and a telephone number, and just adapt to a new lifestyle in general. I knew it would be difficult at first but that everything would eventually fall into place. 

A Canadian teammate (Will Critchley) in Finland! photo: Toni Louhisola

What I didn't expect though was the immense generosity I received from the stupendous orienteering families living in Turku. I can remember running and smiling to myself one day while thinking about all the lovely new people I had met so far and how incredibly lucky I am. It's like having an extended family spread across the entire world! It really says something about orienteering as a sport when you can arrive in a new county and already feel like you're at home. I am so grateful to everyone who has so warmly welcomed me to Turku... kiitos!!

Turku has fantastic biking...

...And orienteering!

I think I will be really happy here :)

Jag är hungrig!

What's the most efficient way to become nocturnal? Race and spectate the infamous 10mila weekend and then attempt to travel back to France in time for your chemistry class on Monday of course! So far I'm succeeding at it pretty well, however, it may be a hard blow when I arrive in class where napping is quite strictly frowned upon! **Update: the gentleman who cleans the floors in the airport just told me I look tired so I guess I'm doing a better job at that than actually becoming a night hawk. And for the record if that was supposed to be a compliment I'm not flattered!

The last time I tried to take public transport in Uppsala the intended 12 minute bus ride turned into a 2 hour tour through the Uppsala countryside. I wanted to avoid a similar debacle and so I gave myself 6 hours to arrive at Arlanda on time. Obviously the public transport decided to work in my favour this time because not only was the bus driver a super sweetie - not making me pay for a ticket and able to speak french - but I have arrived with only 4.5 hours to soak up the super exciting Monday morning ambience here in the airport! Good thing I have enough rice pudding and peanut butter and banana sandwiches to last me until next Tuesday!! In one week's time (aaaaaah!) I will be entering my final exam period which means that as soon as I'm no longer a sleep deprived zombie it's crunch time! Therefore, why not take advantage of this valuable time in the Arlanda airport at 2 a.m. to recount some of the stupendous times I've had this past month in Sweden?

Unfortunately, after my first race I started feeling a little bit funky and sure enough I came down with the flu... perfect timing to let down your defences body! Geez! To give you an idea of how fast I was moving when I was able to train, Thierry's favourite nickname for me was "super turtle". I already have to take 3 steps for one of his so, when you add in my lack of energy to keep my feet moving forward, it's understandable that I had so much trouble keeping up! I tried to be reasonable though and didn't start training hard again until my legs felt like they were able to turn over all by themselves. I exceedingly enjoyed running a long distance on some classic Swedish terrain! Heading into the race I wasn't counting on feeling in tip top shape so I decided to concentrate on my technique of trusting my compass and having a good image of which features were in the circle. There's nothing like the fantabulous feeling of cruising through this type of terrain and nailing the controls! It was also the first day in two weeks that I was feeling close to my normal, 100% functioning self so I was absolutely over the moon! 

By the time Silva League weekend rolled around I had a few speedy trainings under my belt and a lot of excitement bubbling up with the prospect of racing on some spectacular terrain in Tibro. I knew that running two long distances back to back was going to be an enormous challenge considering the amount of time I had spent down and out these past two weeks. These races were also a major factor for the Linné team 10mila selections and so... no pressure! I figured the best I could do was to "giv'er all I got" and just keep in mind my objectives on running with my compass and being careful in the technical contours area.

The butterfly loop from Saturday's course.

My compass and I were best of friends at the beginning of Sunday's course (however, we experienced some misunderstandings near the end).

There were ups and downs in both races but I was pleasantly surprised by my results ( 33rd and 27th respectively for the two days) and they earned me the third leg on Linné's first team! I was fortunate enough to be running on a team of super talented ladies: Lina Bäckström, Rasa Ptasekaite, Annika Billstam and Catherine Taylor. 

Fast forward a week and I find myself donning a GPS and heading into the warm-up area to scamper around with the rest of the women waiting for our second leg runner to come storming into the arena. Rasa handed off to me in 41st and with almost a kilometer of marked route to the start triangle I turned on the turbo jets. The third leg had no forking which meant that we were all supposed to be going to the same controls. Right off the bat, though, I didn't like the attack that the others were taking for the first control. It's one of the tricky things about relays; you want to use the pack as much as possible to aid your orienteering and speed, but you have to have the confidence to know when the train is running off the tracks and abandon ship! From the moment that I spiked the first control I was in the zone and taking no prisoners! I was navigating while leading an entire train of girls, calm as a cucumber and loving it! It wasn't until the 6th control, when I caught another pack of girls, that I realized how hard I had been running, how great this race was going, and how exhausted I was!

The live GPS tracking!

Unfortunately, that's where my concentration cracked and I had a few small troubles at the end of the race but I was still able to hand off to Annika in 15th place! Annika and Cat went on to run superb races and we finished in 10th/disqualified place... there was a bit of a sticky situation about an out-of-bounds area but nobody is really sure how it's going to finish. Whether we were first, tenth, fortieth, or disqualified, though, it doesn't really matter. What's really important is the passion and commitment that each one of us put into all of the training before 10mila right through to the race itself! All of us poured our heart into representing OK Linné as best we could and I think it really showed. I feel so privileged to have run with such amazing women and I hope to do it much more in the near future! I've had the most spectacular month living and training in Uppsala with the most incredible group of people! As I'm sitting here watching yet another sunrise I'm already dreaming about the next time I'll be in this airport but with clean clothes packed in my suitcase and striding out of the doors excited to get to another sensational Linné training!

Note: the title is one of the more important Swedish phrases that I learned during my month-long stay. At this rate, I'll most likely be fluent by the year 2052 (but at least I’ll never go hungry)!