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Posts tagged as “Mari Kråkemo Finnerud”

Triumph of twos: Spitsbergen Marathon gets twin second-time winners; woman winner’s boyfriend tops half marathon

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Read Time:3 Minute, 29 Second

Mari Kråkemo Finnerud felt like she was struggling compared to last year’s dominating victory, but once again she was only a few minutes behind the fastest man halfway through the race. By the end she was part of a winning couple with two different men.

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Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
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‘Just run like hell’: Andreas Nygren, worn out from hiking and paddling, simplifies tactics to win Spitsbergen Marathon

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Read Time:1 Minute, 28 Second

Marathoners typically spend the last few days before a race taking it easy so their muscles can recover from intense training. But Andreas Nygren wasn’t about to waste his few days in Svalbard, so he went on hiking and kayaking trips before the race – and thus feeling exhausted just reaching the starting line.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
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