Sports partner

My parents told me that not long after I was born in Denmark, we participated in fun parent-child classes. I recall that when my parents talked about these experiences, they smiled and recalled our laughter and joyful splashing in the water together. Later in my childhood, I learned my skin was quite sensitive to pool chemicals like chloramines. My skin would itch after just a few visits a week to a pool, so I had to cut back on swimming and try other sports. Over the years, things got better - probably from cleaner pools, good rinsing right after swimming, and creams that fix the skin's protective layer. This let me enjoy swimming regularly without itching. 

Swimming is still one of my big sports passions, and I like to mix it up with crawl, backstroke, breaststroke, and butterfly. I experience that each style works different muscles: Crawl strengthens shoulders and back, backstroke evens out chest and hips, breaststroke powers legs and stomach, and butterfly challenges the whole body with its wavy motion. Switching between them builds good, lasting strength, I experienced​. Swimming gives a gentle, full-body workout that tones shoulders, back, belly, chest, arms, legs, and hips. In addition, I experience that swimming calms the mind: The steady rhythm of strokes matched to the breathing pulls one into a quiet state of mind, boosting energy and focus. Emotionally, I experience that swimming washes away stress - lifting my mood, easing worries, and leaving me feeling more balanced, alive, and true to myself - helping build inner strength.

When I was a child, there was no tennis club in Lystrup, where I grew up and went to school. So, I practiced by hitting a ball against the wall of one of the buildings in the social housing community where I lived with my mother. When the tennis club in Lystrup was later founded, I joined immediately and became part of a welcoming and pioneering community atmosphere. What made this experience special was that it offered many ways to contribute beyond simply playing tennis. For example, I helped with practical tasks such as repairing the courts - a responsibility that required initiative and the ability to learn how to solve problems without having expert knowledge. Perhaps even more influential was the opportunity to assist in coaching younger players who wanted to learn the game. Through teaching others, I discovered how rewarding it could be to support people in developing new skills and confidence. This experience sparked my lasting interest in learning and education - and laid the groundwork for the coaching and facilitation work I continue to do today. Reflecting upon these experiences in the new tennis club in Lystrup near Aarhus in Denmark, what fills me with joy is the trust that leaders of the club placed in me as a teenager to handle this work - challenges that helped me grow tremendously.

As I began looking for new challenges and opportunities to grow, I joined the tennis club in Skovbakken, located just next to Risskov Amtsgymnasium, where I attended high school. Skovbakken was a larger and more established club than the one in Lystrup. Becoming part of this club offered me valuable new experiences — both on and off the court. I enjoyed the diversity of training partners and the more competitive environment, which encouraged me to refine my technique and deepen my understanding of the game. During the time, I played at Skovbakken, I took part in several tournaments. One particularly memorable moment was participating in a tournament where I played alongside Crown Prince Frederik, who is now the King of Denmark - an experience that made the community spirit and reach of the sport feel even more inspiring.

After completing a year of service in the Royal Danish Lifeguards, I set out on a journey to Australia. Living in Sydney, I became aware of Jensen's Tennis, a welcoming club at Prince Alfred Park near the city center. Playing there some times and also having the possibility over some weeks to assist with daily operations, I had the joy of connecting with a variety of players. This was a wonderful experience to learn about Australian tennis culture. The many great interactions, which I had, not only sharpened my strokes and strategies but also revealed the Aussie spirit of kindness and playfulness.​ One day, I learned from a local player that in Newcastle - a city two hours north of Sydney - there was a thriving tennis scene with very good players. Fueled by a strong passion for the game, I packed my bags with thankfulness for the nudge, ready to elevate my skills further through challenging rallies and new friendships. This spontaneous move embodied the thrill of stepping into the unknown, blending resilience with joyful pursuit.

In Newcastle, north of Sydney, I dove into exhilarating tennis matches against several skilled local players who outmatched me. Thereby more or less every training session turned into a masterclass in technique and perseverance. Besides playing tennis relatively intensively during this period, I decided to practice my fitness at a fitness center nearby. One day, I noticed that the professional tennis player Rachel McQuillan was practicing on a court with her father. To my surprise and delight, they invited me to join Rachel for practice - an unexpected honor that sparked pure joy. During a practice session one day on one of Newcastle's great artificial grass courts, Rachel's coach stopped by and observed our exchanges. At a water break, he gave me this timeless advice: "Balanced control, Frank." Rachel's athleticism, speed and phenomenal court coverage made it somewhat challenging to keep in balanced control all the time. However, that phrase from Rachel's coach - emphasizing steady footing, calm focus, and adaptive rhythm - resonated deeply. The advice has endured as a guiding principle for me over the years, helping to achieve balance in the variety of challenges I come across in life. Thank you.

At the beginning of 2020, I visited South India. Walking through the streets of Chennai and Pondicherry, I encountered a soundscape unlike anything I had experienced before. It was the loudest environment I had ever been in. Curious about the source of this intensity, I began to observe about what was going on - and reflect on that. For example, I noticed that the streets were filled with an endless stream of vehicles - cars, buses, rickshaws, and motorcycles. Traffic was dense and unpredictable, making it nearly impossible to cross the road safely on foot. In addition, almost all vehicles ran on petrol or diesel. Electric vehicles were nowhere to be seen, which contributed to the noise. Third, honking appeared to be part of the driving culture there. It seemed as if many drivers did not honk out of anger, but more as a form of communication - a way to signal their presence and navigate through the crowd. When I asked some Indians, I got into conversation with, why drivers were honking their horns so much, one person smiled and said something like this, “It is the ego. Everyone wants to get ahead.” What surprised me even more in South India was that the same intensity extended to human interactions on the street. With loud voices, vendors called out people passing by - and often followed people for several meters - eager to make a sale. Even when people politely declined, many vendors continued their efforts. It was a culture shock for me, and I always could not believe what I was seeing and hearing. Curious to learn about the reasons for this aggressive behavior, which seemed to sometimes work against their intention to achieve success, some vendors mentioned their faith in Ganesha - the Hindu god of prosperity - whose blessing they sought in their daily work.

How did all this make me feel? In many moments, I felt a high degree of stress and felt that the placed, where I stayed as I was in South India, were almost the only places where I could find quiet moments. Outside of these places, it was almost as if the noise and constant motion had invaded my nervous system. The streets felt out of control. Each time the honking refused to stop and voices filled the air without pause, I sensed frustration rising in me. I began to feel disrespected and feel anger. What surprised me most was the contrast between what I was experiencing and what I had previously learned about Tamil people in Switzerland - values of kindness, warmth, and generosity. The dissonance between these two impressions left me confused. One morning, while having breakfast at a small hotel near an IT park south of Chennai, I spoke with an Indian man who worked for a tech company. During the conversation, he shared that in a particularly stressful period of his life, he had learned to practice breathing exercises to regain balance and focus. The calm way he spoke about it caught my attention. His story made me curious to explore this practice myself. That conversation over breakfast turned out to be a turning point for me. It awakened a deeper curiosity in me - about how breathing connects to the heart, the brain, and the stomach. Over the next few weeks, I began reading about breathing techniques and experimenting with them at different times of the day. Sometimes, I lay on the floor or sat quietly in a chair, focusing simply on breathing. Other times, I practiced breathing while I was walking, trying to synchronize each step with slow, steady inhalations and exhalations. As I continued to practice, I gradually noticed a shift within myself. My mind felt lighter, my emotions more balanced. I experienced that the noise around me - though still loud - seemed less overwhelming. Breathing, I discovered, could help me stay relatively calm . 

Over time, I began to realize that the noise I had encountered on the streets of South India was not an isolated experience. It was a reflection of a broader pattern. I noticed how easily noise finds its way into our lives, not only through cars, horns, and voices, but also through the constant flow of notifications, images, and opinions that fill our digital spaces. To me, it seems as the the world has grown louder, both physically and mentally. Noise today is, it seems to me, not just about sound; it’s about stimulation. Social media, emails, and the perpetual demand to stay connected create a form of mental noise that can feel just as overwhelming as the roar of traffic. I began to see that this external noise often feeds internal noise including restless thoughts and tension we carry with us without noticing. It was through my first conscious experiences with breathing in South India that I learned something fundamental: Peace begins in the body. By slowing down my breath, I discovered a simple yet powerful way to quiet the mind. Breathing connected me to my body. Through that, I became aware of emotions I was feeling. I realized that the body speaks before the mind understands. And I learned that paying attention to the rhythm of my breath was like tuning an instrument that had long been neglected. This awareness was the beginning of a new chapter in my life - one that led me toward mindfulness and a deeper connection with the present moment. I started to see how the relationship between body, mind, and emotions is dynamic and intimate. When the body is tense, the mind often follows. When the breath is calm, the heart opens, and emotions soften. Today, I believe that finding quiet, peaceful spaces is of strong importance - something I need to prioritize in order to perform well. Moments of stillness - whether found in nature, in gentle breathing, or in silent reflection - help me to restore balance in an increasingly noisy world. They allow me to listen - not only to other people but also to myself. The listening helps discover calm, clarity, and compassion.

Living in Sydney in Australia in 1991-92, I noticed that some people went by bicycle to play golf. Also, many people used small pencil bags with just a few clubs. Quite uncomplicated. The photo is from a memorable day with fellow students from Austria, France and Switzerland. This was the first time in my life that I played a round of golf.

Since 2006, I have lived in Zürich in Switzerland. Sometime around 2020 I became aware of Migros Golf Park in Otelfingen as I was on the train with my girlfriend from Baden to Zürich. Fascinated about the purpose of Migros Golf Park to make golf a sport for everyone, I became more curious. Speaking to a friend of mine, Christian Casparis, I learned that he played regularly at Otelfingen. One time, I went with him to the sports complex, and he showed me the putting green, chipping practice areas as well as the driving range. In 2024, I felt ready to take the next step and decided to take part in an introductory course (Schnupperkurs) in Otelfingen. During this course I learned about the purpose of golf and about a few golf rules. As a part of this short introductory course I also learned about different types of golf clubs - including putter, irons and driver. What I found particularly useful during the short course was learning from golf pro Stephan Streckert about a few techniques of a golf swing and practicing those techniques on a driving range. I recall that we also learned about putting techniques, which we practiced on a putting green as well as on greens of a golf course.

The introductory course triggered my interest in learning more about the sport. On the app PC caddie, a useful mobile application, I noticed an additional golf education initiative, which aimed, over two weekends, at going deeper into various parts of the sport. Those two weekends at the start of 2025 helped me advance my competencies significantly. From golf pros Stewart Franks and Peter Clark I learned a lot about the rules of golf, golf etiquette as well as about several techniques for playing a ball from different places of a course. This was really helpful. Throughout 2025 I practiced on the par 3 course in Otelfingen a few times. This course, which has 6 holes, was just the right fit for my level. In addition, I practiced once at Migros Golf Park Holzhäusern where I had the possibility to play on a 9 hole course. During 2025 I also practiced on the driving range, putting green, in sand bunkers and in the chipping areas a few times. From Willi Tschumi, with whom I sing and also played a round of golf with in Otelfingen, I was recommended two books: Ben Hogan's five lessons as well as the book How I play golf by Tiger Woods. Inspired by the knowledge shared in the books, I decided to sign up for winter training to start off my third season. During winter training led by the golf pro Mostafa Mazouzi, I met up with a small group of people on Sundays to practice. Right at the first training event on a Sunday in February I learned something from golf pro Mostafa Mazouzi, which I had not thought about earlier: Keeping my head still through the swing. It surprised me positively that keeping my head had such an important effect on my swing.

There are more reasons why I like the game of golf. For example, I like walking outside in fresh air. That helps me to get exercise and also reduce stress. What I also appreciate about the sport is that it is both individual and collective. In other words, I play against myself, but I also mostly play with other people during a round. I like this combination. A third aspect I appreciate is the beauty of nature.