Some Swedish dude bites into a cookie offered by a customer and breaks his tooth on a cherry pit inside. $680 of dental work is required.
Since he broke the tooth on the job, he makes a claim against his employer who, not surprisingly, tells him to take a hike.
If I had been in Broken-Tooth-Guy's shoes, this is where the story would have ended. Broken-Tooth-Guy, however, decides to sue his employer.
I never know whether to admire these people for taking a stand, or to ridicule them for the unbelievable loss of productivity and voluntary misery they put themselves through while fighting a lawsuit.
He filed the lawsuit in 2002. He got a decision this week. So he has arguably spent over 4 years fighting for $680. To me, this just seems retarded. The cost-benefit ratio just isn't there. How much more money could he have generated if all those hours fighting this lawsuit were spent working instead?
My experience with the justice system is limited to the Régie de Logement - the quasi-judicial body that regulates rental disputes in Québec. I had to lodge several complaints over unpaid rent and I would rather lose two or three months rent than have to go through the Régie for a decision. It is long, takes up my time and it generally aggravates me.
I am a big believer in the Chinese proverb "Better a lean agreement than a fat lawsuit".
Translation: Even if you win a lawsuit, you lose. Enough said.
The automobile industry is expressing its concern that obesity is the result of declining automotive towing capacity. I guess that would explain all those lard ass Prius drivers.
In the interest of keeping my Alert Readers fully apprised of hot news from Sweden, here is a brief summary of recent items:
Sweden to ban swearing in public OK, well not really. But a councillor in Ljusdal is proposing it.
"We need a zero tolerance approach to this sort of thing," the Centre Party councillor, who has presented a motion on the issue to the council, told The Local. (The Local is the English language Swedish newspaper)
If this goes through, I will probably end up in jail.
Swedish nuclear power plant run by drunks In a recent report that would make Homer Simpson blush, the Forsmark nuclear power station has been cited for "potentially fatal" safety breaches. On top of that, when 25 of the plant staff were given breathalyzer tests, 3 were found to be under the influence and had to be sent home.
Sweden to set up embassy in Second Life Second Life is a virtual world where people can create characters and "live", with all the common stuff that goes with daily life. Apparently it is a big deal. Anyhow, Sweden is setting up an official embassy in Second Life. They are the first nation to do so, although Canada has an unofficial embassy apparently. Although as I figure it the only people who really care about this are pretty hopeless anyhow.
Percentage-wise, with less than 6 months of semi-serious training under my belt following a 5 year near-complete hiatus from ski racing, I am skiing as fast or faster than I ever did as a "serious", full time athlete.
It is hard to figure out if I am happy about this or profoundly disappointed.
For the non-athletes out there who read this, carbo loading is the process of increasing the amount of glycogen in your muscles before a long race. Glycogen is the "fuel" for your muscles, so the more you have, the longer you can go without running out of energy (known as the dreaded "bonk"). Carbo loading is at its essence pigging out.
A lot of skiers love carbo loading. You get to eat as much as you like and taper your training. Typically, three days before a long distance competition, you reduce your training substantially and start eating lots of complex carbohydrates: pasta, rice, potatos. You also have to drink lots and lots of water because glycogen is stored with water in your muscles. These muscles, still accustomed to having to replace the glycogen in your muscles quickly before the next training session, take all these carbohydrates and quickly pump your muscles full of glycogen. It is normal to gain a kilogram or two from carbo loading inside of 3 days. This is not fat - it is the extra water and fuel stored in your muscles.
I think eating is a waste of time anyhow, so carbo loading for me is just something that has to be endured. I equate eating with filling your car with gas: a necessary chore. I tend to put it off until the last minute when I become ravenous and am forced to eat something before passing out. Well, that doesn't happen often, but I have been known to forget to eat a meal or two when I am really focused on other things.
While I carbo load and force myself to swallow yet another bite of pasta even though I really don't want to, I always think of those geese they force feed to get their livers all nice and tender for foie-gras paté. I dislike the feeling of having a bloated, full stomach. I much prefer the feeling of slight hunger. I think it makes you sharp. Sadly, feeling hungry before a long distance race is kind of like having the sword of Damocles hanging over your head. Even though you feel just fine for the time being, you know without a shadow of a doubt that it is going to be a very long, painful day. And so I carbo load. Sigh.
It didn't happen this weekend either. However, with my new skis, it did go substantially better than last weekend. This was a 42 km race rather than 40 km like last weekend, yet I decreased the difference between my time and the winner's time by over 10 minutes. This weekend, the winner's time was 2:02 and my time was 2:22. Results are here. The dude who won, Lars Ljung, is a young whippersnapper hotshot who is already routinely scoring FIS points. For those non-ski types reading this, that means he is a world class athlete.
I guess I should be happy with that. It should put me solidly in the 2nd seed of the Vasaloppet. However, I still feel like I could have knocked at least 5 minutes off my time. I definitely felt the fatigue from the last 40 km race I did - oh - 6 days ago. I just didn't have the power on the uphills I had last week. I also was not happy with my waxing. I still had slightly slower skis than the others around me - I know this because on downhills on the single-track portions of the trail, guys were always skiing up over my ski tails and pushing on my ass to avoid plowing through me - but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as during the Hoting loppet.
I just concede that I have no clue what I am doing when waxing classic skis for racing. I know the basics - enough to let me plow through training or the Canadian Ski Marathon, but the finesse of getting really fast skis that have good grip is beyond me. And unlike with skate skis, the effect is immediately noticible and evident. It doesn't take a genius to see who has fast skis in a classic race.
Anyhow, that is my last race before the Vasaloppet. I will do a week or two of base training again with lots of long slow distance. In three weeks I am in Brussels at NATO headquarters for a week, which should be fabulous for training. Or perhaps not. I am seriously considering bringing my rollerskis...
The E4 is the European Autoroute that runs from the north of Sweden all the way down to Spain somewhere. As such it is of course subject to all kinds of helpful European Union rules and regulations such as the spacing between fence posts and the acceptable colour of the asphalt to be used (black). I only hope I am joking.
But seriously, having just driven over 700 km on this road I think I am somewhat qualified to pronounce it sucks.
First a bit of context. The E4 is the only major road running north/south in Sweden. Since the rail system in Northern Sweden currently blows (this may change with the opening of the new Bothniabahn), the E4 is arguably the economic backbone of the entire country.
The only thing I give a big thumbs up to is the pavement. It is in great condition, and our road guys in Canada should drive on it before claiming our winters are too harsh and the spring thaw too severe to have decent roads.
Everything else about the E4 though seems to be designed to aggravate drivers. The speed limit fluctuates constantly. Not 5 km goes by without the speed limit changing from 110 to 90 or 70 or even 50 km/hr. This baffles me. In a couple of instances, the speed limit changes from 110 to 70 and back to 110 in a distance of less than 200 meters.
Also, on and off ramps are apparently unnecessary. It is much easier to just have every road connect to this major highway with a T-intersection and a stop sign. With, of course, an associated decrease in speed on the E4 to ensure the "merging" is done safely. And while we are on the subject of these intersections, one of the ideas of a highway is to have limited access points. Having intersections every couple of kilometers completely defeats the purpose of a highway. Highway traffic flow should be smooth and high speed - at least on average 100 km/hr. As it is now, you are lucky to average 80 km/hr over long distances. The E4 up here is not so much a highway as a glorified secondary road.
Swedish traffic engineers: Please talk to your colleagues working to make Swedish furniture and household appliances so user friendly. You could stand to learn a thing or two.
It has come to the attention of the editing committee here at A Canadian in Sweden that incorrect information has appeared in several of our posts. I particular, it has been pointed out to us that Håkan Wingfors' name is spelled with an "a" - not an "o" as has been previously reported.
The editing committee wishes to extend our sincere apologies to Håkan. In retribution, our correspondent in Umeå will be subjected to a public caning.
So I am out at Nydala tonight doing intervals and I meet up with two guys whom I have seen training there all season. One of them was at the loppet this weekend, so I decide that is a good talking point and ask him how it went. Not so good, he says - he was 10th. I ask if he is doing the Vasaloppet. Yes, he probably will. So I ask what seed he will be in. There is a pregnant pause. His friend Per jumps in eventually and says "Johan scored World Cup points last year."
Ah. So that would be the elite seed.
Let me reiterate: at a dinky local ski race with about 100 competitors 200 km from a major town, a dude who scored World Cup points last season placed 10th.
This commercial was supposed to air in Germany, but the Swedes apparently found it too offensive. It allegedly depicts the Swedish midsummer festivities, and it is ridiculously funny.
Sparks are really cool. They are like chairs on long, flexible runners. You can stand on the runners, hold the chair back and scoot around by pushing off as if you were on a skateboard. In Sweden, they are common around-the-town winter transportation, because sidewalks are left with a few inches of snow on them for that purpose. Roads are snowcovered too because they don't use salt. So Sparking is actually a very practical means of going around villages. Kind of like winter bicycles. So here are a couple of photos I took in Åsele on the way home from the loppet today.
Two ladies sparking about town. You can either have a passenger on the seat,
or use it to hold stuff
I think this is awesome. Spark parking outside the grocery store.
Well, that was a reasonably satisfying, if frustrating, return to the world of ski racing after a 5 year hiatus.
My time sucked. 2:26 for 40 km. Winning time was 1:57. So I am not terribly proud on that count. However, there are extenuating circumstances.
My skis sucked. Not the wax (Oh, I just know that this is going to spark a bunch of snarky comments from the peanut gallery), but the skis themselves. There is no way that a reasonable wax job (Yes! OK? I used wax! I admit it!) could cause such ridiculously slow skis. I even had my skis stone ground.
I know, I know, this sounds like a lame-o excuse. We have all heard it: "Ohhh, I had such a bad race today. My wax sucked..." Well, that is not what I am saying. I am saying that my skis were so unbelievably and demonstrably slow compared to the skis of those people around me, that the wax can't possibly account for it. My skis suck. Period. The whole ski. Not just the 1 micron thick layer of hydrocarbons that are attributed such magical gliding powers.
And I feel strongly enough about this that tomorrow I am going to go and purchase a brand-new pair of Fischer RCS's to ensure that this never happens to me again. Because when your fitness is very good and you are held back by equipment, it is not cool.
And my problem today was most definitely not my fitness. That is why I am actually reasonably pleased with this race. I destroyed people on the uphills. I was actually relishing the next uphill so I could crush another hapless Swedish dude. It was the same story every time: Burn up the hill like a man on fire, get to the crest and start double poling madly while all those guys I had just passed tucked and glided by me like I was standing still. The effect was dramatic enough that at around km 30, I skied up behind some dude and was about to pass him when we reached a 200 m downhill. At the bottom, he was 40 m ahead of me. Of course, exact measurements are impossible, but that is roughly correct. I would not hesitate to guess that my skis were up to 20% slower than the median.
And just to lay any speculation to rest: my grip was nothing great either. I didn't spatula on gobs of klister so I could run up hills only to have to run down the other side also. Normally if your glide sucks, your grip is OK. I wasn't so lucky. My wax was for temperatures down to -10, and at the start line it was -11 (C). Normally, that would be considered a good thing because temperatures generally warm up over ther course of a race.
There are few things I can think of that are more frustrating than passing someone on an uphill only to have them glide past you on the next downhill. It is just so damn unfair. But I guess that is the nature of skiing. But it is not something I need to accept lying down. This is one of those problems that does disappear if you throw enough money at it. You just have to pony up the dough for a new pair of skis.
I guess I am also glad I found out about this during a reasonably unimportant race. It would have been a disaster to discover this at km 10 of the 90 km Vasaloppet.
Next weekend I have another 40 km loppet, and if my new skis are not ready, I am borrowing my friend Håkon's skis. According to him, they were bombs today. Next week the course is much flatter which should, under normal circumstances favour me because I have been working on my double pole so much. So we will see how that turns out.
So those achy muscles I have had all week weren't because I overdid it training.
Turns out I have some kind of low-grade flu or something.
So here is my dilemma: The race this weekend is probably the only race within a day's travel from Umeå that I will be able to do this winter. This race is a seeding qualifier for the Vasa, and all the other such races are already cancelled due to lack of snow or are really far away (far enough to require a flight, like in Finland). I know that racing 40 km while sick is stupid, but I also know that I am in good enough shape that as long as I just finish the race, I will be upgraded in the seeding. This is important, because if you are not seeded, you are put behind everyone at the start. If that happens the Vasa transforms from a 5 hour race into an 8 hour sightseeing tour. I haven't trained this hard to go sightseeing.
So sick or no, I will probably be racing Sunday unless I am positively bedridden. No matter how sick it will make me, I will have lots of time to recover before the Vasa. And I have to keep my eye on the prize here - sometimes a bit of discomfort is necessary to achieve your goals.
I have mentioned my Olle story at work.. It turns out that Olle - the guy shoveling snow, clearing brush, and setting the trail last week - is over 80 years old.
I was introduced to the concept of "lagom" this week. Lagom is a uniquely Swedish word that has no direct English equivalent. Swedes are not fond of excesses in any form (except the liquid kind) and this is why they have a word like "lagom", which means roughly "just enough" or maybe "with moderation".
Everything can - and should be - lagom. Doing things in moderation here means always taking the middle path. If there is a three lane highway anywhere in this country (Maybe Stockholm, I don't know), I guarantee that Swedes will clog the middle lane. So you hear the term "Lagom bra" fairly frequently. This means basically "Just about right and nothing to make a fuss about." (Bra means good in Swedish and has nothing to do with average sized lingerie.)
I should do a Swedish vocabulary series - or maybe a Swedish Word of the Day. Hmmm. Not a bad idea. I could start with "Slut" (finish) and "Slappa" (to be lazy). Which of course brings up the amusing possibility of trying to express "finish being lazy". I don't actually know if you could say "Slappa slut" in polite society or not. Or even if it really means anything. It just makes me laugh because I am juvenile and something of a dumbass.
And for those out there who are really juvenile... Something that is damp... is "fukt".
OK, I will stop. I turn 34 in a month. It shows, doesn't it?
We finally got a bit of snow last night. Perhaps 5 cm, certainly no more than 10 cm. When I checked the local ski track condition website, I was surprised to see that Olles spår was listed as being open.
Olles spår literally means "Olle's track". It is a fixture on the local ski scene. Olle is some old dude who - like many Scandinavians - really likes skiing. No, he really, really likes skiing. So much so that he decided a few decades back that he could build and maintain trails better than the local clubs could. His track has a 14 km loop and a 10 km loop, and it is entirely on his property, entirely maintained by him, and is free to use by anyone who wants. People training for the Vasaloppet often go there to train because the flat terrain is just like the Vasa (or so I am told).
I arrived at Olles spår this morning, skeptical to say the least. There is less than 10 cm of snow on the ground. There is no way you can have a decent trail with less than 10 cm of snow. Unless you cheat and use millions of dollars of public funds to build a refrigerated track and artificial snow, like at Nydala. However, skiing the exact same trail since the beginning of Novemeber has made me a bit desperate, and I was willing to at least go see what magic Olle had allegedly worked.
It turns out that Olle has invented some kind of sled that he pulls behind his rickity skidoo that gently scrapes the top few cm of snow from the sides of the trail and deposits them in the middle, making a nice pile of snow 30 cm deep. Then he goes around on his skidoo again, with a standard track setter, putting in a perfect trail in the pile of snow. Amazing.
So I head out, pleased beyond all reason because I can finally ski on another trail, and... I run into Olle himself. Our conversation went thusly:
Me; Hej! Ar du Olle? (hi! are you Olle?)
Olle; Jag! Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah... (in very fast Swedish)
Me (with vacant, hunted look in eyes); Uhhh... Jag taler liten svenska... (uh, I don't speak much Swedish)
Olle (totally undiscouraged); Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah? (again, in very fast Swedish, and now waiting for a response)
Me; Uhhh..Jag heter Jeff? Jag kommer frän Kanada? (Uh, my name is Jeff? I´m from Canada?)
Olle thought this was hilarious. He is a friendly old dude, that is for sure. Over the next 3 hours, I ran into him a few other times as he puttered around his track, removing branches or scooping snow onto bare spots. Every time he saw me, he started to laugh and would say something I couldn't even begin to decipher, so I would yell "Jag kommer frän Kanada!" as I skied by, which would crack him up even more.
I am rather resistant to taking medicine of any kind, partly because I subscribe to the school of thought that "anything that doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and partly because I think pain and misery develops character.
However, I finally caved and started taking melatonin this week in order to sleep. I haven't had a decent night of sleep since I got back to Sweden, and my colleagues at work finally got fed up with my dopey, sleep deprived "uh - what were we talking about?" behaviour. So I got some melatonin and I have to say the results are quite satisfying. After only two days, I am back to an almost normal sleep schedule, and that feels rather nice. Those of you out there who know me well know how much I appreciate sleep, so the past two weeks have not been very fun.
So I am now a card-carrying member of Idrottsföreningen Kamraterna (IFK) Umeå skidor. Literally translated, it means "The Comrades Sports Club". The IFK thing was started at the turn of the last century by two 16 year old kids in Stockholm. In 1895, Louis Zettersten and Pehr Ehnemark thought it would be fun to start a sports club. Today there are 167 IFK clubs across Sweden, all coordinated by a central office that is still in Stockholm.
The Umeå branch is a relative newcomer, having been founded in 1901 (Nov. 1 to be precise). It is an umbrella organization with clubs for Badminton, Bowling, Boxing, Football (soccer), Friidrott (whatever that is), orienteering, xc skiing, and weightlifting. I honestly don't know much about the other sports, but IFK Umeå skidor had a few years of international attention in xc skiing a while back because of Per Eloffsen.
Per was the World Champion in 2001 and the dude who got totally screwed at the 2002 Olympics because of the druggie Johan Muehlegg. Per should have won several of the races, but was denied by Johan who was later stripped of his medals for blood doping infractions. Anyhow, that story is not the point of this post.
As I was saying, I am now a full member of IFK Umeå skidor, and I proudly picked up my racing suit today. Here it is - the first new suit I have owned since 2001.
One of my colleagues at work just gave me this link to a mapping web site specific to Sweden. They have satellite imagery for Sweden in far greater detail than Google does. So, here is where I live. My apartment is on the second floor, last one on the bottom of the inverted L of the building (south-most) and here is where I work.
I think that this is arguably one of the best Canadian folk songs ever - it is right up there with anything Gordon Lightfoot wrote (yes, even the Canadian Railroad Trilogy). Does anyone know if Stan Rogers received the Order of Canada before he died? If not, he should get it posthumously.
Oh the year was 1778 How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now A letter of marque came from the king To the scummiest vessel I've ever seen
Chorus: God damn them all I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold We'd fire no guns, shed no tears Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier, The last of Barrett's Privateers
Oh Elcid Barrett cried the town For twenty brave men all fishermen who Would make for him the Antelope's crew
The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight She'd list to the port and her sails in rags And the cook in the scuppers with the staggers and jags
On the King's birthday we put to sea Ninety-one days to Montego Bay Pumping like madmen all the way
On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again When a great big Yankee hove in sight With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight
The Yankee lay low down with gold She was broad and fat and loose in stays But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days
Then at length she stood two cables away Our cracked four-pounders made awful din But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in
The Antelope shook and pitched on her side Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs And the main truck carried off both me legs
Now here I lay in my twenty-third year It's been six years since we sailed away And I just made Halifax yesterday
The official photo CD of this summer's CIOR Congress in Viterbo Italy is allegedly now available. I haven't seen it yet, but this photo is apparently on it. This was taken at about 3 am, in the Viterbo town square, in the fountain. During the day, this would be rather frowned upon, but at 3 am, you can get away with all kinds of great stuff. If memory serves, this was taken immediately after a rousing rendition of Barrett's Privateers. The Viterbans were no doubt rather glad to see us leave their town.
From left to right, Arif Hirji (a LCol from Toronto, but surprisingly cool despite that handicap), Johan (a public affairs Lt from Denmark - a great guy), "Daaaaaaave Meister, C93 FM" (an airforce Capt from Winnipeg and a former radio DJ), yours truly, and the only chick who survived the night, Capt. Isabelle Mousseau (who - when she isn't selling her soul on a Class B contract in the bowels of NDMC is a sometimes-model and future med student)
This was a very excellent night. Here is looking to next summer's congress in Riga, Latvia! (are there any fountains in Riga? Just curious)
Yeah, I can see this is going to take a bit longer than I thought.
I woke up at 2 am after 4 hours of sleep, fully alert and ready to get on with my day. Since then, I have been in bed, staring at my cieling and hoping I would drift off again. No luck.
Yesterday I woke up at noon after 14 hours of sleep.
My body just doesn't know what is going on. What with the jetlag and lack of light, there is no way for it to re-calibrate. I don't have any symptoms of seasonal affective disorder (SAD) but I am thinking of spending some time in the light room at the hospital, just to try to get my body back in whack. This is just weird.
Even weirder, is that athleticly (athletically?) I feel awesome. When I am skiing, I feel extremely strong. I beat some of the local hotshots during double pole interval training at Nydala the other night. I just don't build up lactic acid at all right now. Yesterday I classic-skied 54 km in 3 hours, all at a HR under 140 beats per minute - a comfortable zone 1 for me.
I am a bit worried I am in some kind of unintended, unplanned-for peak. Which would suck, seeing how the Vasaloppet is 2 months away. Peaking is hard to do, and getting 2 in one season is something I have never accomplished.
Hi everyone, and welcome back. Hope you all had a great holidays. If I haven't been in touch, drop me an e-mail and lets catch up.
I spent the Christmas period at home in Vankleek Hill Ontario, but I managed to do quite a bit of travelling and made it up to Ottawa and Montreal a couple of times.
I arrived back in Umeå on the 30th, with the cunning plan of using my jet lag to its full advantage during the New Years bash the next day. Hey - midnight would feel like 6 pm! Awesome! I could act like a grown up and make it to midnight without passing out for a change.
Funny how that little thing called the Law of Unintended Consequences has the most remarkable way of rearing its ugly head.
So as I mentioned before leaving, my friend Daniel Ragnvaldsson was OIC to figure out what we were doing New Years. He is doing his Ph.D. and is the Swedish javelin champion. He has a good social network around Umeå, so I figured I was in good hands.
We started the evening at his friend Jonas' place. Jonas is a physiotherapist who works at the university. Great guy, and an amazing chef. Check this spread out:
This doesn't really do the entire thing justice, because this was just the 2nd course of 4. Jonas doesn't use recipes - he makes them up himself. This impressed me immensely.
Actually, we started the festivities at Jonas' parents place in the afternoon - they have a great sauna. Anyhow. The alcohol only started flowing during dinner, so lets start there.
By the end of dinner we were already well on our way, as this photo of Daniel will attest:
This man hurls lethal spears at high velocity for a living. Not a reassuring thought.
A photo of Jonas. Notice the excellent shirt. A man after my own sartorial taste:
Jonas spent a year on exchange in Idaho as a teenager and he is quite possibly the only Swede on the planet who not only likes Bluegrass, but who owns an MP3 of the theme to Deliverance. Yeah, the hillbilly banjo tune. Surreal.
After dinner we took a taxi to Tomas' place. Tomas is a mutual friend of Jonas and Daniel. I have no idea how they know each other, to be honest. Anyhow, Tomas was hosting the party. At midnight, the town of Umeå had a very respectable fireworks display. I was quite impressed. The party was OK, but Daniel the lightweight called it quits at 1 am. My cunning plan of taking advantage of my jet lag was working perfectly! I managed to stay up until the party was eventually shut down, and I walked back to my apartment at 5 am.
Then I slept through the entire next day, woke up a 9 pm, and realized that my internal clock was severely messed up in ways I have only ever dreamed of. Recall at this point the Law of Unintended Consequences. The fact that there is almost no daylight up here doesn't help matters. So now it is 3 days later and I am just beginning to snap out of it. I figure I should be back up to speed in a day or two.
