Who are you? Have you ever spent some thoughts on who you are? In a sense of what defines you. What is the essence of your existence, in your opinion? What do you think are the main factors, which make you who you are? What formed you? And more important, do you have any idea what others see in you?

So many questions. So many thoughts about purpose, values, reason, motivation. But do you really know what defines you? This splits mainly into two categories. First, your self-esteem is tightly coupled with what other people think about you. Second, you don’t care about the opinion of others. The second case is the easier one, then you simply can define yourself what defines you. Think what is important to you and you are done. Some people are proud of their muscles, other proud of their brain and again others of their money or  influence or power. Piece of cake.

The first case is more unfortunate, since there is a dependencies on others. For example you are proud of your muscles and you put every free minute into sports and fitness to maintain or improve that state of yours. Some people might recognize your efforts and admire your state, but others might not. Others simply don’t care about this aspect and see fitness as a waste of time. In their eyes you are spending your time in a stupid way. The unfortunate thing is, if you pull your self-esteem out of the admiration others show for your passion, then you have lost. Similar with other drivers. You can be as intelligent, wealthy, powerful as you like. There will be always people, who don’t care about that specific aspect.

So why do we tie our well-being and self-esteem to something we can not control? Why do we create or accept that dependency? Wouldn’t it be better to decouple our feeling of self-worth from factors we can’t influence? The solution sounds so easy, the theory is clear. But many of us suck in the implementation. It’s easily said, but hard to follow through.

But life would be boring if it would be that easy. So think again, what defines you?

So what does a reasonable men do in his midlife crisis? Of course, he buys a motorbike, or a sportscar. So did I too. I didn’t want to violate common sense. In my case it had to be a motorbike. And there are several reasons for that.

First I used to ride a bike in my youth. Actually everybody did. Drivers license was cheap and motorbikes affordable. Well, there wasn’t much choice, but it was okay. In my case it had been an used MZ ETZ 125. The cool thing was, it was blue metallic, unusual color, ideal to stick out of the crowd. On the downside, I was slightly slower then all others. 125 ccm have been for export only, very rare inside the country. All others had 150ccm. But that didn’t matter much. I had lots of fun with my bike and actually it is a surprise that I am still alive, and I am kind of happy about that. I used to ride this bike for many years and I still have it, even if it is dusting for decades now.

Second I had been thinking for so many years now to start riding again. But you know how it is. Family, kids, other responsibilities other ways to spend your money and time. So the new bike never materialized and I kept dreaming.

Third, I am not too much a fan of sportscars. In my opinion they are just a way to compensate other flaws. And they are not really practical. Ever tried to transport your skis in a Porsche? And if it’s just about fun and speed, a motorcycle does the job even better. Exposed to the elements, feeling the wind in your face, and all the insects too 😉

So, it had to be a bike, and more importantly, it had to be a Harley. I am well aware that you pay a lot for the name and other motorbikes are less expensive and have newer technology. Of course you get more bike for the money if it’s not a Harley. But as stupid as it sounds, the Harley comes with a feeling of freedom and independence. Yeah, it’s nonsense, but it works. And there is a second reason for the Harley, the sound. No other motorcycle has such an amazing sound. Already that sound is worth it. Incredible.

And it became a Harley Davidson, a Roadster XL1200CX. I enjoyed every single kilometer so far. It’s simply amazing, it is pure fun and I am regretting that I didn’t do this step earlier.

The bike won’t bring more days into my life, but it definitely brings more life into my days.

I think it’s not a secret that I like cross-country skiing. You know, that sport, on ski, very thin ski to be precise. And there are sticks too, very thin ones of course. Two skis and two sticks, attached to the ends of your limbs. You get the idea.

It is fun to ski through snowy forests and snow covered mountains, enjoying the peace and the silence out there. Mind-blowing experience, winter wonderland. Very grounding and relaxing. So far so good, if there wouldn’t be this thing called ego. Combined with a little need of adventures and a grain of restlessness. This is the recipee for pain and failure, but it feels so awfully good.

So what happend? I am as I am and need those skiing challenges. I wanna know if I can. And when I can, I wanna know if I can more. Natural path to disaster. So I decided some time back to participate cross-country skiing races, marathons. And doing this for a couple of times, you need a bigger challenge. Hence I tried my first 60km race, little more than a marathon, almost 1,5 marathons. Which shouldn’t be a problem if you are trained sufficiently. But guess, I was not. The little jogging here and then wasn’t enough, but hey, I had to try. So I did.

And of course the distance is not challenging enough. So the weather decided to give me a second challenge. And then my stupidity a third, since I didn’t check the profile of the track in advance. About 850m difference in altitude to climb turned out to be a lot and translated into many and steep hills. But so what, it had to be done. Hence my motivation before the race was great. Hey, finally real snow. Finally doing what you love to do. But this attitude changed soon. It was snowing heavily and it shouldn’t really stop entire day. Minutes before the start I learned that there is a time limit of 7 hours. If you did not finish within 7 hours, you are disqualified. Such a shame. Anyway, can’t be that difficult I thought.

There had been signs every kilometer, counting down from 60 to zero. So you start motivated with about 200 other crazy people, surprisingly fit crazy people, even many professionals. Anyway, you run and you enjoy it. But for some reasons the signs keep showing a 5 as first digit. The first 10km appear like endless. And you start to realize, this is going to be fun. Finally the first sign with a 4 in front. Motivating, even if it says 49km to go. And you keep going. The field of skiiers thins out. Soon you are running alone. You can see some people in some distance in front of you, and some behind you. Now it becomes your race, your rythm, your pace, your challenge.

Your muscles start to hurt and your body tries to tell you that he doesn’t like that exercise. And then you see the next sign, 42km to go. Just a number, until you realize: “Wait a minute, this is still a freaking marathon to go!”. Everything hurts already here. And then you are sure, this is going to hurt. And it did, later. You are climbing steep hills, you are trying to survive steep downhill passages without falling, you are crossing forests and fields. And it keeps snowing. Not only snowing, there is storm, a real snow storm, a blizzard. You can’t see more than 10m, the snowflakes hurt your eyes. You can’t see the track anymore. There is no track anymore, it is covered with fresh snow already. Everything is white. It’s difficult to evaluate if it is flat, or uphill, or downhill, or if you are even still on the right track. If you are lucky you can follow another skiier. If you are not, you have to find your own way.

And skiing is exhausting. Without track you have to push through the fresh snow. The snow makes you very slow and you need way more strength than under usual conditions. The wind adds on that extra effort. Soon you’ll run out of power. But luckily there is some food every 10km. Warm tea and soup, some cake. You take a minute to drink something warm, grab a piece of cake, push it into your mouth and with a mumbled “mmmthank mmyou” you’ll continue your endeavor. The snowstorm swallows you and within some meters you are alone again, pushing forward, kilometer by kilometer. And this goes on and on. You work down the thirties and you feel happy to see the first twenties on the signs. Although 29 means actually little less than half of the distance still to go.

Your body parts start telling you: “Bad, bad idea. Very bad idea.” You ignore them and they respond with pain. Little later you start asking yourself: “Why the hell did I do this again?”. After that you tell yourself that you will never ever do this again. Your body applauses to that decision. And finally, the twenties are gone, there is a 1 as first digit. But still 19km to go. The fun is gone and you have to convice your body for every single step. You become slower and slower and then you feel that you are running low on sugar. You need something to eat, but you do not know when the next food point comes. I looked terrible, at least I think so, since some skiier offered me a power bar, which I happily accepted. It helped me to the next food point where I refilled with 4 cups of tea and even more pieces of cake. I met another skier there and he was worried that we will not make it in time. Then I realized I was moving already 5,5h and there had been only 90 minutes left for the remaining 15km and I got to know that we had to climb a bigger mountain on the last kilometers.

Well, I came that far, I’ll finish that thing. So I gathered all the remaining power I had and climed that damn mointain as there will not be a tomorrow. The last think I want is to miss the deadline by a couple of minutes. So I put all in I had. My legs cramped, my lung screamed and my muscles were empty. Anyway, step by step forward. And then, single digit kilometer signs! Single digit! Amazing. I just wasn’t sure if I should be happy about the 9 or worried. But you can’t think clearly then anymore, you just move on. The fear to be a couple of minutes too late and to get disqualified pushes you forward. You battle the kilometers down, one by one. You see the sign with the three, then the two, finally one and you can see the finish line. This finish line in front of you activates your last reserves and you speed up to finish gracefully. Well, more or less,as graceful as possible. And then you cross this finish line. What an amazing feeling. The clock shows still a six in front. You made it in time and you are happy that you finished that beast.

You can’t bend down anymore to open your skis, but somehow you manage. The real pain came later, when your body starts to realize what happened and presents you the bill for your crime. Three dark blue toe nails, muscle pain where you never expected it, ligaments and joints protest es well. But know what, it was worth it, every single painful kilometer was worth it! And even if I never ever wanted to do this again, I am thinking already about the next race one week later. I am what I am, and I am happy about that. A little crazy, but happy that I am able to do such things. Yay!

Well, I am not really sure how to start this. It is kind of hilarious actually, I burned my finger in my fridge. Yes, I really did and I know, refrigerators are supposed to be cold, at least from inside, somehow, a little, sometimes more. Let’s agree on: it’s cold inside. And so is mine, cold inside. And it has a lamp, which has indisputable advantages. This light makes is easy to find stuff in there. This lamp makes it possible that you recognize the aged cheese hidden in the back before it grows feet and starts to eat the other inhabitants of your fridge. So no doubt, light in your refrigerator is one of the smarter invention of mankind, besides the wheel, or toilet paper.

And now the magic part comes, the refrigerator is able to switch this light on and off, tailored to your needs. Awesome, isn’t it? The light switches off when the fridge is closed. This is so amazing. But now you might ask, how do you know that? How do you know if the light is off then? You can’t check since checking involves to open the door. And then the fridge thinks you are hungry and starts to illuminate the over-aged cheese. Tricky question. And my fridge is too small that I would fit inside to check from there behind the closed door. One of the unresolved questions of humankind. This is comparable with Schroedinger’s cat, Schroedinger’s cheese so to speak. So after a while the cheese is simultaneously illuminated and in the dark. Quantum mechanics rocks. And I think it’s independent if the cheese is furry already or not, well, up to a certain point. Once the cheese became his own ecosystem it might develop firefly capabilities. Who knows? But this would ruin the quantum mechanics experiment.

So let’s concentrate on the part we can prove. Door open equals light on. Good. But I have to tell you, this is not principle or law of nature, since my fridge stopped doing so. Really, he mutinied, refused to serve and obey. Shame on him. But to give him some credits, he still tried to cool down my groceries. He just refused to show them to me. So let’s call it partial mutiny.

But the culprit was found easily. It was the light bulb. The evil little light emitting flask. This little guy died a shiny dead and gave up, without warning or announcement. Well, she served for many years and deserved some rest to be honest. So I expressed my condolences and performed a light bulb funeral. Poor little guy. But no time for grief and mourning, I headed for the hardware store to get a replacement lamp. And there have been several types and I wouldn’t be me if I wouldn’t think: “Let there be light!” and I went for the 25W version. Awesome, the sun will rise in my fridge. And it did actually. It was never brighter in my fridge, awesome.

After some time I realized that the food next to the lamp was somehow impacted. It wasn’t cold and grew fur and feet faster. Interesting experiment. But the solution was easy, just don’t place anything near that lamp and life is good again. And it was, until this burning smell distributed within the fridge and within the food. Took me some time to figure out what’s going on. But finally the light bulb confessed the crime. It became little hot, well hotter, to be precise hot enough to melt parts of the plastic cover around the light bulb. The plastic started to bend around the light bulb, which increased the effect even more. So what to do? Yes, let’s remove the bulb. But ouch, very hot and unfortunately the molten plastic prevented the removal of the bulb. But the longer I tried, the hotter the system became. Okay, that’s manageable I thought. This device is a fridge, so give him some time to cool down the light bulb. And so I did. But I have to confess, I didn’t wait long enough and the bulb jumped back to operating temperature within seconds. And that has been the moment I burned my fingers in my refrigerator. It would be embarrassing if it wouldn’t be funny 😉

But as a natural scientist I found a solution and unplugged the fridge. Smart move, but I burned another time since I wasn’t patient and didn’t wait long enough, again. But hey that’s life. Sometime you win, sometime you learn. And here I won (I was able to beat the bulb) and I learned, several times (25W might be too much for a little fridge and patience avoids ouch). I am proud of myself 😉

During my last stay in India I visited “Adalaj Trimandir“, a temple complex located 20 km away from Ahmedabad (Gujarat), near the village of Adalaj. It as temple with idols of many gods like Jainism, Shaivism or Vaishnavism. At the center you can find the biggest idol , 155 inches pure marble, the idol of Lord Shree Simandhar Swami.

The temple has been founded by Gnani Purush Dada Bhagwan, who had been born as Ambalal Muljibhai Patel in 1908. The temple contains a little museum about him as well. I went there as a tourist, I wanted to understand India and the people within that country. What drives them, what motivates them, what makes them so different compared to my own culture. Hence visiting a temple appeared to me as a good chance to learn more about this country.  I expected to learn something about the architecture, history or religion, but then something happened I did not expect. I learned something about myself.

But first things first, this experience started painful, probably because I am too soft 😉
As it is the case for most of the temples worldwide, you are not allowed to enter them with shoes. So there is usually a huge pile of shoes at the entry. And while adding your shoes to that pile, you are hoping that you will find them again when you come back later. At the same time some other thoughts are crossing my head, generating a huge smile. Hey, how about mixing the shoes here up a little, or let’s band them together, or lets exchange some of the shoes with the shoe pile at the other staircase. But then I remembered myself, that this is a religious place and I am a guest here. So I behaved 😉

But now the challenge starts. I am not used to walk barefoot on hot surfaces. The 42 degrees Celsius had warmed up the stones a little. Actually a little too much for me. So the best strategy for me to deal with this was jumping, trying to reduce the contact time with the stone. Looked very funny probably. After some jumps I found out the darker stones are hotter than the whiter stones. Whoa, physics in practice, amazing! So the new plan was to hit the whiter stones while jumping. Looked even funnier. And on top comes, as a middle-European after winter time, I have kind of white and pale feet. Comparably pale to all other feet around. Another thing what is very funny for Indians. Well, it looks even funny to me, so this kind of discrimination is okay 😉
Within the temple it was okay then and the little museum about Dada Bhagwan was really interesting. I had a longer discussion with one of the supporters of Dada’s theory. Interesting for me, they call this theory science and it is actually independent from any religion. This is something I did not expect there. I liked some of the ideas, e.g. never force or hurt anybody, not by mind, not by word, not by actions. I like that approach, but I am afraid it does not work as I know humankind. If all humans behave like that, the world will become a peaceful place. But unfortunately the planet is full of violent or selfish people, which will use the good people merciless. And even if they are okay with that, due to their belief, it creates a group of passive victims, if they see it like that or not.

But don’t get me wrong. I am not judging. Actually I admire the calmness, the complete satisfaction and the happiness within those people. And this is based on one aspect of their belief. This is the lesson I learned in this temple. They believe that nobody nor nothing can make you sad or happy, no human being or situation. All problems and all solution are within yourself. Your happiness and your sadness are within yourself. Hence you are responsible for your own happiness, you alone. You are the only one who can change that, nobody else.

This is what I believe too. And during my visit of Adalay Trimandir it became clearer, very clear. How easy is it to blame others for your current situation. The guy in the car in front of you is too slow, you fail an exam because somebody kept you from learning, you are angry because your spouse does not behave as you expect, you are sad because somebody bad-mouths you, you are unhappy about your over-weight. There are so many examples, and all of them are wrong. It is an active decision how to react on something or somebody. If you react angry, sad or lazy on something, it is your unconscious decision to do so. But you could decide otherwise, you could decide to let it go, to stay calm, to be happy with yourself instead. The responsibility for your happiness is with you, your happiness is within you. It can be so easy 😉

Abu Dhabi is the capital of the United Arab Emirates. It is an impressive city and I have been so many times there already. But unfortunately  I never have got the chance to see the city itself, only the airport. Well, when going to or coming from Abu Dhabi, you can see the city from above, more or less, depending on your vision. So this does not count. But you can see there is water. Abu Dhabi touches the Persian Gulf, at least at the north-west end. All other three ends of Abu Dhabi are sand, desert. So no wonder it is usually warm there.

As a consequence, I do not know much from the city. But I do know the airport. Abu Dhabi airport is the home base of the airline Etihad, which connects the western with the eastern world. The airline operates more than 1,000 flights per week, with more than 120 aircrafts. But there is one thing about Etihad I really like, the boarding music. The song you can hear when you enter the plane. This song is kind of exotic, cheerful, epic and touching at the same time, just awesome. I love it. Here is the link.

But I wanted to write about the airport. Actually there is nothing special about that airport. It is an airport like many other too. It is more about the people. The variety of different people is vast. So many different cultures at one and the same place, more I have seen in other airports. The picture of many other airports is shaped by business men and tourists, in a funny mix. But not here. Of course you can find many business men and tourists here too, but there are also many other people which do not fall into this category. Many people on the way to visit family members, widespread on this planet. Hence you see many people in traditional outfits of their respective culture. There is the Japanese student, studying in Switzerland. There is the Indian grandma, visiting the grandson in US, sitting next to that fancy Thai girl with pink hair and the huge smartphone. Two seats to the right the Arabic looking grandpa with woolen hat and warm winter jacket. Behind him a hippie-like European, looking like a flower child from the 70’s. A man passes, with t-shirt and towel. What?! wait! I need a second look. Yes, this man has a towel around his hip, instead of trousers. At least the flip-flops fit color-wise. Then the Arabs, in their long white robes. I do not know till today, how they manage to keep them white and dry in the restrooms, which are usually flooded with (hopefully) water.

Abu Dhabi airport is one of the big hubs connecting both sides of this world. Once my flight from India to Abu Dhabi had a bigger delay. I had only 20 minutes to reach my connection flight. Luckily I knew where to go, but without a sprint across the airport, from one end to the other, I wouldn’t have made it in time. Of course exactly in such situations the airport is crowded like an oriental street market. And everybody seems to have plenty of time to walk around slowly, very slowly. And of course in clusters, blocking all the bottlenecks. But I made it, the door closed right behind me. And actually I was faster than my suitcase, which did not make it. But hey, otherwise I never would have learned the lesson to pack the jacket into the hand luggage instead into the suitcase, if you travel from summer to winter. Brrrrrrrr 😉

Another time while boarding, we have been loaded into a bus, to be  transferred to the aircraft. The bus doors close, but the bus does not start, not after 10, not after 20, not after 30 minutes. People start to complain and ask why the bus isn’t moving. “Somebody is still missing” was the answer from the ground crew. 40 minutes and the crowd becomes impatient. People requesting loudly to leave the missing person behind. The answer from the bus driver. “Unfortunately this is not possible.” Some impatient, grumpy guy asks “Why?!” Then the bus driver answered: “Well, the missing person is the pilot.” And suddenly everybo dy was okay to wait a few more minutes. Luckily they found the pilot little later and we could board the plane.

Abu Dhabi airport, a place to meet new friends. The Indian couple who told me the life story of their son, who became a doctor in US and they are on their way to see him. They offered me Indian food they brought. Or the Pakistani student, who just finished his PhD in psychology in California. He was on his way to India to open a practice. We talked a while and he told me from the difficulties of having a Pakistani dad and an Indian mom. Or the young German sales guy, who traveled for two months through the outback of India to sell little tractors to the farmers. There are so many stories and destinies. Full of life. You just have to listen.  Listen with ear and heart.

The day before I flew to India, I thought it is a good idea to do some sports. And, by accident, it was winter. Even if the season did not really deserve that name, it was winter. And what is my most favorite sport in winter? Right, cross-country skiing. Running around on small and light skis with very light sticks. That’s it and this is what it had to be on that Sunday.

Now I am not really living in an cross-country skiing area. You go and life where your job requires you to go. In that area the people have already issues spelling “cross-country skiing”. Snow is a word triggering fear and panic. Since in the rare cases of snow, the traffic isn’t prepared for that at all, and neither are the people. So what to do as a supporter of the white gold? (No, I do not talk about salt!) Yep, following the snow. Going into the mountains.

In addition I am a fan of cross-country skiing events, competitions. I like the atmosphere. Many cross-country skiing fans in one place. And most importantly,  the race and the people along the track, cheering for every skier passing, your number and the official touch, all this makes it nearly impossible to quit during the race.

So the plan was to get up early and to go by car. Something between 350km and 400km to reach that place in Austria. And early means early. I got up at 3:30am and left my place at 4am, sharp. It was dark and rainy and the streets almost empty. A couple hours later the sun was slowly rising above the mountains. And this has been the moment I realized again, why I got up that early. What a beautiful morning.

To be honest, I was a bit skeptical if I really could make it. The guys I met there before the race appeared really fit. Most of them looked like they train every day on ski. And what did I do? I have been on ski three times this winter. And I have to say I am working in an IT company on a desk. Yes, desk. Sitting around all day. And this job occupies most of my time. A switch into a new company last year reduced my training time dramatically in addition.  So it was, what it was.  The first two times on ski this winter have been training rounds, 22km each. This was the limit, especially the first time. Not a single meter more would have been possible. I was much fitter the year before. But hey, that’s a beginning. The third time on ski had been a race, 37km. Also here I scratched my limit. The only thing preventing me from collapsing was my pride 😉

Now, here I was, surrounded by athletes, fourth time on ski, after a long drive by car, without breakfast. But hey, I felt great, I was there and I was going to do something stupid, running a 46km race. Awesome feeling. Especially close to the starting time. I love the atmosphere in the start box. Everybody is excited, eager to start, motivated, and fit. Well, almost everybody 😉

They play those motivational songs, like Queens “We are the champions”  or “Eye of the tiger” from Survivor. This creates a wave which carries you forward. The minutes are counted down over speakers. Five minutes left, three, two, one minute. The countdown switches to seconds. Three, two, one, start! And the crowd starts to move, everybody is pushing forward, several hundred skiers, on a huge wave of excitement. This feeling can not be described. That’s why I am here.

The first few kilometers you have to be very careful and considerate. People are fighting for every gap and every possibility to overtake. But there is not much space because of all the skiers. And especially for skating you need some space. So it happens quite often that somebody crosses other skis, sticks break and people fall suddenly because of that. It is okay if this happens left or right, but it is not if the guy in front of you decides to go down into the snow. Remember, people will jump into every gap you leave in front of you, hence you don’t leave any gap. But this means you take away your chance to react if the guy in front of you crashes. Thrilling 😉

But after some kilometers this sorts out and you try to follow somebody with a similar speed to yours to avoid the exposure to the wind. Might not sound like a big deal, but every grain you waste on the first kilometers, will make you suffer in the end. I have learned this the hard way. But hey, that’s fun. But this time I had an almost accident. We went downhill and it was a fast and steep passage, with a hard turn at the end. The guy in front of me was about 10 meters away. I came down with a group of other guys next to me. Now the guy in front crashed within the turn of a sudden. I couldn’t sidestep to the left because there has been somebody. The only chance I had was to take the inner side of the turn to avoid crashing into the poor guy on the ground. But I was way to fast already there. And then I got to know the reason why this guy fell, ice. Interestingly time seems to pass in slow motion in such moments. I clearly remember how I evaluated the different options I had, how I realized the ice and took this into my analysis and adjusted the plan. I even remember speaking out loud “holy sh..”. I couldn’t finish the second word and I remember I said this in English and not in my mother language and I was puzzled about that as well, since it appeared illogical to me in that moment. And all this happened within the fraction of a second. Fascinating. But hey, I managed to pass the fallen guy on the inside of the turn, despite speed and ice. I touched him slightly, but I didn’t fall and most importantly, I didn’t crash into him. This was very close and pumps adrenaline into your body, which had already an overdose before. You feel very alive in this moment.

The kilometer pass and the excitement normalizes and vanishes slowly, together with your strength and your motivation. The field of skiers is pulled apart and there is no rush anymore. Everybody is trying to find his own rhythm. So did I. After the majority of the field turned away on the shorter 27km round, it becomes almost empty on the track. The guy in front of me is about 100m away and I don’t think I can close the gap. The two guys behind me are about 50m away. So my goal is to keep them behind me. One problem at a time. And the track becomes long and looooooooonger. Body parts start to complain about the strain. Over time more body parts join the chant of pain. You legs and arms and back try to tell you that this is not a good idea what you are doing here. Little later even your brain switches sides and asks you: “What the hell are you doing!”. And almost as a third person I can observe me discussing with my brain:

• Me: “Hey, this is your favorite sport, this is fun.”
• Brain: “Well, it is supposed to be fun! But it is not anymore.”
• Me: “Come on, we can do it!”
• Brain: “Have you even considered your poor training situation?”
• Me: “Why should I do such a thing?”
• Brain: “How about not to collapse here?”
• Legs: “Yes, yes, please. Let’s collapse here. This will give us such a relief.”
• Me: “Shut up legs and move! And know what, last year I made it too and there are doctors here.”
• Brain: facepalm

So you go on nonetheless. Your entire body tries to convince you to give up, except your ego. Your ego simply does not allow you to stop. And that’s the reason you keep moving. You are here to finish that damn race. You didn’t get up at 3:30am to give up here that easily. No way! Never! So you move on. And then you see the first signs indicating the near finish. A sign telling me “5km to go”. And you move on, “2km to go”. You can hear already the announcer talking in the stadium. “1km to go”, you can see the finish line already and you summon the last grains you have in you and you speed up. 500m straight and of course you try finishing with style and speed. 100m, and you can hear your name over the stadium speakers since you have been announced as the next finisher. Cheering people at each side and then you cross the finishing line, lifting both arms up in the air. And you did it. You completed 46km on ski. You really did it, even if you had doubts you could. Everything hurts, but you did it.

• Me: “See brain, we did!”
• Brain: “Yeah yeah, be proud as long as it lasts, our immune system just collapsed.”
• Me: “Nah, shut up, who cares, we did it! And we did it in less than three hours!”
• Brain: facepalms again

But hey, this feeling when crossing this finish line is simply great. Actually I feel happy and alive in this moment. Very happy and alive. And I am realizing, this is why I am doing this.

Little later I realized something else, I have to drive back home. So this day I went about 800km, and 46 of them by ski. I spend about 8h on the road, but all this is worth this feeling. The feeling when you cross the finish line, the feeling that you achieved something big. Something you did not even yourself believe that you can do it. This is life!

You know, walking through the streets is not a big deal. Walking through a mall or go shopping is neither. But wait, let me start differently.  I am a rather restrained guy, I am not too much a fan of crowded places and I am rather the sitting lonely on the top of the mountain guy. I like landscape, lots of it, preferably without many people. But that’s my problem, not yours. Well, it’s rather a preference and not a problem. Long story short, I do not feel the urge to be always in the spotlight.  I prefer to shine in the background.

Now imagine me in a country like India. If you have been in India, you might know that the cities are busy, fast moving, flowing, loud and crowded. Not my favorite habitat. And now imagine me as a white tall guy walking through a mall in India. Exactly, I am kind of an attraction. Almost everybody is looking at me. It feels like walking in the spotlight. I even can feel the looks behind my back. Interesting experience. So this is what beautiful women feel all the time? Staring eyes. And that I am in average one head higher compared to the people around me doesn’t make it better.  But you get used to it and actually it is good to experience how darker people must feel in whiter countries.  So you walk on with a smile 🙂

Another funny thing is how to walk, or better where to walk. If you are coming from a right-hand traffic world, you have the natural tendency to walk at the right side of the path. This leads to a higher probability of collisions in a mall in a left-hand traffic country. Well, less collisions, rather irritations if everybody expects the other to step aside, or both step aside to the same side.  So what to do? Easy, adjusting, just switch and walk at the left side. Funny thing is, this doesn’t help you much in India. So much fun, by just walking around.

Then I have been in a movie.  There was a big cinema in that mall.  And a movie without popcorn is not a movie. So I went to the counter to get some. Two open counters, four guys behind them, running around in unstructured patterns. If you know India, you know there is not such a concept of a line. If there would be such a thing like a concept, it can be rather described as a cluster approach. Hence there are people coming from the side, pushing themselves in front of you.  This makes the project popcorn a bit more difficult, since the four guys behind the counter seem to be completely busy with themselves. So, the only way to make progress is to not show any gap where somebody could sneak in and to push myself. This works.

Now , there are different popcorn flavors. I got caramel-cheese popcorn. Repeat slowly: “caramel-cheese”. I didn’t even know that those two words are allowed within the same sentence! You can imagine the taste somewhere between awful sweet, salty and one week worn socks. Definitely an experience. But hey, never judge something you haven’t tried. And now I have earned the right to say “awful stuff”. But if you focus on the movie, your brain is able to ignore the taste, until you realize that your fingers stick together from all the caramel sugar, or the cheese, or whatever else has been in there.

And then the movie tried to convince me that smoking is a bad idea. Well, I agree, but why trying to convince me? I do not smoke. Then I found out that there is a law in India, that every time a cigarette is visible in a movie, they have to show you the subtitle “smoking kills”.  Since the movie was in English and had even English subtitles, which I haven’t seen before in any cinema, subtitles, the “smoking kills” was overlapping with the text subtitles. Felt a little like Netflix. But anyway, I was puzzled why they didn’t show “drinking kills” with every visible drink. Or “weapons kill” or “driving fast kills”. But all in all it was a nice experience, especially the comfortable seats, which could be adjusted to almost sleeping position. And know what, there has been a break and during the break a guy came through the rows and asked if I want to order something. But I was afraid to order another bucket of popcorn 😉

Well, what became this event called Christmas? It is not anymore what it is used to be. One big change is the weather, global warming is killing the Christmas I knew. There is a term “White Christmas”, which became a lie within the last years. Christmas is everything else than white. It’s brown and green and grey, but there is no snow anymore. 10+ degrees at Christmas evening, hello?! Something is wrong here.

But that’s not the only change. Another change is the materialism, and the pressure of society to give each other gifts. And it has to be special gift, something coming from heart, something unique, something new, something with value. And all this in a time where everybody has everything already. So people tend to spend days and weeks to find the perfect gift, until they fail and buy some socks as every year. And what do people do with those unique gifts then? They pretend to like them to not insult the giver. What a hypocrisy.

And then the pressure to give gifts to everybody who gave a gift to us last year. Are people aware that this has the potential to grow exponential? Anyway, Christmas is munificence, so let’s give. But looking deeper into this, it simply means: “I feel I have to give you something, just because you gave me something last year, something I didn’t want or needed, but something which forces me to give you something back, but actually I don’t care about you and even more, I hate you because you brought me into this situation”. When did Christmas became such a hypocrisy?

It hasn’t been some years back. I am sure. Or maybe I did not realize since I have been part of that game? Hmm, interesting question. Or think what we do to our kids. We shower toys on them, many. But why the hell do they need that many toys? What will happen? They start to take this as the new “normal”. Check their wish lists next year. They’ll grow too. And if they don’t get what they asked for, they become angry. Toys and presents are expected, plenty of them. But children don’t even have time to play with all those toys, disregarding from the space they occupy. Their rooms burst already from all those toys. And much worse, they don’t value those things anymore. Hey, there are plenty of them and if something breaks, I just ask for a new one. This is what we teach our children with this. Well done parents. You are trying to buy your kids with showering them with material stuff. And know what, exactly this will make it worse.  But it could be so simple. Of course do they like toys, but one or two are sufficient. Just shower them with love and time, instead of teaching them envy and greed.

What became of Christmas. It was used to be the celebration of love, family,  satisfaction, happiness, care, affection, peace, reflection, gratefulness and thankfulness. Actually I don’t care about the religious background. The entire purpose of my Christmas is to spend it with the people close to me, to be grateful and to reflect the previous year, to enjoy the silence and harmony. And not to forget to remember the people we’ve lost and the people who cannot be with us anymore. This is Christmas for me. This and only this and I do not need a single gift to enjoy Christmas.

But unfortunately things don’t work out all the time, hence Christmas was kind of sad this year. Some of the important people in my life have been missing. But sadness is part of life, same as joy. Maybe next year. So let’s hope that we all will stay healthy till then to enjoy another Christmas. And another thing made me sad and thankful at the same time. Due to the mild weather I was running through the forests from my youth, exploring the paths I knew so well many years ago. The paths my dad showed me when I was a kid. He knew every path and mountain by name and height and he knew a story for everything there. And when I passed those places, paths, trees and forest junctions, I remembered those stories suddenly. I had forgotten most of them, but running there alone through the mountains brought them back. Very emotional moments. And then I felt gratefulness, I felt thankful that I had those moments with my dad, up there in the mountains. That he took me with him to those places.

And suddenly my little world became peaceful and silent again. Merry Christmas to all of you!

Burj Khalifa is a skyscraper in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, and is the tallest man-made structure in the world. We are talking here about 830m, and this is a lot. And of course, first time in Dubai, I had to visit that building. The good thing is, it is visible from far, from every direction. Hence it’s hard to miss, so I thought. So I decided to walk from my hotel to the tower. Didn’t look that far away, and actually is wasn’t, if there had been a straight way towards it. So first thing I learned, Dubai is not made for pedestrians. There are sidewalks, but as soon a you are leaving the attractions, you are alone there, and there never is a direct way. Very few people walk. And I think I know why, it’s really hot in Dubai. So I tried to walk slowly, but you start sweating immediately nonetheless. Well, I did. You can feel the dessert around Dubai and you can feel the humidity from the sea as well. Sweaty combination.

Independent from this, I managed to get lost in a construction side. And there are many of them, huge construction sites with armies of construction workers, creating more and more skyscrapers. This is actually very impressive, especially since I am sweating already when walking slowly and they are carrying heavy stuff around. But a few chats with construction workers later and a big jump through fresh concrete , I managed to get back into civilization, the Dubai Mall.

And, surprise, the Dubai Mall is of course the world’s largest shopping mall. What else? This is the largest collection of shops and restaurants I’ve ever seen. You can get lost in there easily. But if you don’t like shopping, then this is your hell. And deep down in the basement, there is the entry into Burj Khalifa, at least for the tourists. And this is what the place looks like, tons of souvenirs. There are two tours available and one of them goes up to the observation deck at the 148th floor. This is the world’s highest outdoor observation deck, in 555m height. There are still 275m till the top of the building, but don’t underestimate  that height. This is already really impressive, more than half a kilometer above Dubai. Up there they serve drinks and sweets and you have 30 minutes to enjoy the view. And what a view. You even can see the “World islands”, a group of artificial islands, looking from above like a world map.  Several islands form the continents.

Dubai looks very small from up there, you can see the coastline and the surrounding dessert, you can see the older districts of Dubai and the newer ones. This is really impressive and the height teaches you respect. Leaning against the glass window is a challenge. All in all a breath-taking experience.