I recently started playing floorball here in Lund. Every monday evening my team plays a game against another nation or union. Six people in each team with four on the pitch. 30 minute games, open nets, a rink surrounding us. It really is, without hesitation, the most intense and fun half-hour one can have. Honestly, I cannot say I have been very athletic during my first year of studying. Sure, I have been exercising regularly; hitting the gym three times per week, or running six km in Stadsparken, once in a while, listening to music, but that has not quite helped me to get rid of the excessive energy that is gathered when being still for hours and hours under dim lights late at night, studying for some exam.

Neither of those types of exercises help you to completely forget about the outside world and give the brain time for well needed rest. Though, when I am playing floorball, football, or squash, nothing else is on my mind except for chasing the ball around, trying to score a point. During that intense period of time, I am acting impulsively, taking action by using knowledge that has been layered in my body since my first football practice at the age of four. And the fun of the game makes me forget how exhausting it really is to be extremely and uninteruptedly focused, both physically and mentally, for about thirty minutes. When the referee ends the game, fatigue washes over me like a powerful wave, either accompanied by pure happiness over a win, or feelings of devastating darkness over a loss.

The sense of Deja-vu is strong when coming home late after a game, realising that another school day is just around the corner. An empty feeling in your gut. Longing for the sensation of being back in the rink in the middle of the inferno that is the playing field. I am trying to go to sleep, but the adrenaline is still pumping through my veins and I find myself staring at the television but cannot comprehend what the programme is about. The feeling I have had so many times before, just like when I, in my early teenage years, played ice hockey games on sunday evenings and came home to watch a Beck-movie.

After a few games and practices I have now realised that I am in an athletic mode again. After too many years of performing half heartedly at the gym, I am back on track. Because being athletic is not about wearing certain clothes when running, or eating nutrition bars and drinking protein shakes. It is about pushing yourself to places you thought you were never able to reach. To give your fullest and manage a situation even though your brain is telling you to quit.

In this issue of Nådiga Lundtan we get to read about inspiring people who sacrifice time and energy on missions they believe in, when people have told them it was impossible. People who have travelled through darkness to reach the light. I hope you will enjoy your reading!