Ole Einar Bjørndalen

I know it's quite a leap from Kenyan violence and sustainable development to the relatively esoteric sport of biathlon (skiskyting) but if this blog is to be a reflection of my life and interests, then this post is long overdue. I moved to Norway in January 2004 to live with Anette and was immediately drawn into the world of biathlon. I quickly realized that Ole Einar was one of those athletes at the absolute pinnacle of his sport - so good his every move seems effortless, head and shoulders above the rest of the competition. This was also the time that I learned to cross-country ski (at the age of 24!!) and as my love of zooming through the snow-blanketed Norwegian forests grew, so did my love and respect for the sport of biathlon.

Four years later I'm as mad about biathlon as I was about baseball as a kid growing up in Maryland. Although I'm living in Tanzania and don't have a TV right now, I still managed to check the results of the recent IBU Biathlon World Championships online. Ole took gold in the pursuit, but was surprised by his 22-year old teammate Egil Hegle Svendsen in the sprint and the mass start. It was an auspicous week for the future of Norwegian biathlon, and should make for an exciting '08-'09 season leading up to the next Winter Olympics in Vancouver in 2010.

As I was digesting the news of Svendsen's improbable victories over his mentor, I realized why baithlon has smitten me the way it has - it's so much like swimming! For fifteen years I trained alone in pools all over the East Coast and lived for those few minutes of all-out competition at championship events. Although my teammates are lifelong friends and we shared the unique camaraderie of training and competing together, swimming is ultimately not team sport, it's intensely personal. There's no comparison to football, baseball, basketball, etc. So when I watch Bjørndalen gliding through the forest, then stopping alone to shoot down his targets before his competitors arrive, I get flashbacks of the 200 breast, my pull-outs, my turns, my strokes per length, and I am transported in that way that only sports can trasport a person - to the sublime!

So here's to Biathlon, Norway, Swimming, and the endless pursuit of self-improvement. It took me 15 years to break a minute in the 100 breast, and Ole Einar's got his eyes on gold in Vancouver.