I'm 56.
The engine creaks. The ticker needs a little pharmaceutical encouragement. The knees and hips have developed opinions of their own.
Still here, though.
I've spent years in the Royal Navy, rescue work, emergency response, bodyboarding and international freediving. I've been involved in saving lives, swimming unreasonable distances and working in environments where keeping your head matters more than making a noise.
It's been an unusual route through life. Not exactly the sort of career path you'd find in a school prospectus.
Then again, I've never been particularly good at following the brochure.
Life has included military service, humanitarian operations, abuse, alcohol addiction, divorce and the business of starting over. Some things went right. Others went spectacularly sideways. A few lessons came at a considerable cost.
You adapt. Find another way through. Pick up what's left and work out what comes next.
These days, I live alone in the Swedish countryside. The children have grown up and gone off to build lives of their own. Things are quieter now. Less complicated. I rather like it that way.
My working life has taken a different direction, too. I earn my keep in metal finishing, deburring and preparing components to the required standard. It's practical, physical, hands-on work, and an honest way to make a living. Not every chapter needs to involve an expedition. Sometimes you turn up, do the job properly and pay your way.
Alongside my day job, I work with AIDA International both behind the scenes and professionally as an AIDA Safety Freediver, supporting safety operations at international competitions. I still train, still get in the water, and I'm planning a return to ultrarunning in 2027. A few swimming challenges remain on the horizon, waiting for the right time and circumstances.
Life has interrupted a few plans. It hasn't cancelled them all.
I'm not a world-record holder. Not yet. No bestselling books, shelves full of medals or impressive strings of letters after my name. I've never been convinced that the paperwork tells you much about the person.
I've done a few things. Got plenty wrong. Learned some lessons the expensive way. I'm not here to manufacture a legend, polish the past until it shines or pretend I've figured life out.
I'm just getting on with it.
The past has its stories. The present is a quieter affair. The future remains under negotiation.
This is a record of the work, the adventures, the setbacks and the unfinished business. The things I've done, the things I'm doing and whatever comes next.
No grand performance. No glossy version of events. No particular claim to having life sorted.
Not perfect. Not famous. Just stubbornly present.
Have a look around.
There's more to the story.
Rip.
