Hi, I'm Rip.
I'm 56, English-born and living in the Swedish countryside.
I've served in the Royal Navy and briefly in the Royal Air Force Regiment. I've been a rescue swimmer, emergency medical responder, humanitarian worker, endurance athlete and professional AIDA Safety Freediver. There have been a few other chapters, too.
These days, I work in precision deburring and metal finishing. It's detail-focused, physical, hands-on work that requires care, consistency and an eye for quality.
It's an unusual collection of occupations. Not exactly what you'd find in a school prospectus.
Then again, I've never been particularly good at following the brochure.
THE WORK
I've spent much of my working life in environments where keeping your head matters.
Military service. Rescue operations. Emergency response. Open water. International freediving competitions. Different settings, but the same basic requirements: preparation, sound judgement and the ability to get on with the job when circumstances become difficult.
During the European migrant crisis, I worked with MOAS aboard the Topaz Responder in the Aegean Sea as a Rescue Swimmer and supporting medic. I've worked in water safety, medical response and other demanding environments where people sometimes need someone who can remain calm, focused and structured.
I continue to work with AIDA International, both behind the scenes and professionally as an AIDA Safety Freediver, supporting safety operations at international competitions.
The environments change. The principles don't.
Pay attention. Take responsibility. Do the work properly.
And don't be shit.
THE UNNECESSARILY LONG WAY ROUND
Outside work, I've developed a habit of spending unreasonable amounts of time doing things most people would quite sensibly avoid.
Ultrarunning. IRONMAN triathlons. Long-distance finswimming. Freediving. Rucking. Bodyboarding. Endurance events involving early starts, questionable weather and the occasional thought that birdwatching might have been the more sensible option.
I've taken on some substantial endurance challenges, including running the length of Sweden, running around Sweden's and the EU's largest lake, Vänern, and completing a 42-kilometre unsupported finswim. There have been other adventures, many failed attempts, unfinished projects and ideas that looked considerably better on paper.
I'm not particularly interested in being famous. I'm interested in finding out what's possible, what happens when things become uncomfortable, and how much of the challenge is physical and how much takes place inside your own head.
I'm planning a return to the ultra-running circuit in 2027. There are unfinished races and a few DNFs that still need settling, and I'd like to give some of those stories a better ending. Not every race owes me a finish, but there are a few I'd like another crack at.
The bigger swimming projects remain on the horizon. Work, money and the practicalities of ordinary life have a habit of interfering with grand plans, so for now, I'll concentrate on getting back to racing, rebuilding momentum and dealing with unfinished business one event at a time.
I'm not a full-time athlete. There are bills to pay.
THE BITS THAT DON'T FIT ON A CV
Not everything in life goes according to plan. Mine certainly hasn't.
There has been abuse, alcohol addiction, divorce and the business of starting over. Some chapters ended badly. Others simply ran their course. A few lessons arrived with an invoice attached, and not a particularly modest one.
I'm not going to dress it all up as a heroic tale of overcoming adversity. Life isn't a film, and there's no soundtrack when you're sitting there trying to work out what went wrong.
Sometimes you make mistakes. Sometimes things happen that you never asked for. Sometimes the life you thought you were building turns into something entirely different.
You deal with what's in front of you. You learn what you can. You change what needs changing. You carry on.
At least, that's the theory. The execution can be a little untidier.
A QUIETER CHAPTER
These days, I live alone in the Swedish countryside. My children have grown up and gone off to build lives of their own.
The pace is different now. Less travelling about, fewer complications and considerably less noise. I'm earning a good living, keeping fit, continuing my work with AIDA and figuring out which ambitions still make sense in the life I actually have.
These days, I work in precision deburring and metal finishing, a rather different world from rescue operations and endurance events. It's skilled, physical, hands-on work that calls for patience, consistency and attention to detail. You turn up, do the job properly and take pride in the result.
There's something to be said for that.
Not every chapter needs to be extraordinary. Sometimes a quieter life is exactly what you need, even if it wasn't the one you originally had in mind.
I'm comfortable with that.
Mostly.
NO GRAND PERFORMANCE
I haven't broken a stack of world records. I don't have a kazillion followers. I haven't written a bestselling book - yet. I don't have a cabinet full of medals or an impressive collection of letters after my name.
There are things I've done that I'm proud of. There are plenty I'd do differently. Neither requires a press release.
I'm not interested in polishing the past until it shines, inventing a legend or pretending I've figured out the secret to a successful life.
I haven't.
I'm a bloke who's taken a few different routes, made some mistakes, learned a few things and is still working out what comes next.
This website is where I keep a record of it all. The work, the adventures, the setbacks, the things that went right and the ideas that may yet get off the drawing board.
No guru wisdom. No carefully manufactured personal brand. No claim to having life sorted.
Different chapters. Same bloke.
Not perfect. Not famous. Just stubbornly present.
Thanks for stopping by.
Rip-
