It is so easy to yield to temptation. My head might know a path leads only to shame and regret, but my heart urges me to take one step, and then another. It started on Tuesday, with news that Norwegian biathlete Sturla Holm Lægreid chose, for some reason, to use the occasion of his bronze medal–winning performance in the men’s 20km to confess on live television that he cheated on his girlfriend and desperately wants her back. Well, I thought, surely there is no harm in devoting some of my mental resources to learning more about this. Twenty-four hours have now passed and I can think of nothing else. At some point in the dead of night I accidentally learned how to read Norwegian. These vowel combinations look totally normal to me.
The immediate details were compelling and strange. Lægreid told Norwegian broadcaster NRK, "There is something I want to share with someone who may not be watching today. Half a year ago, I met the love of my life. The world’s most beautiful and nicest person. Three months ago, I made the mistake of my life and cheated on her, and I told her about that a week ago. This has been the worst week of my life." Weeping, he went on to explain that "I had the gold medal in life, and I am sure there are many people who will see things differently, but I only have eyes for her. Sport has come second these last few days. Yes, I wish I could share this with her."
Thanks to a helpful Defector commenter, I learned that this declaration was even more ill-timed than I imagined, given that the gold medalist, fellow Norwegian, Johan-Olav Botn, also dedicated his win to someone no longer with him—their teammate Sivert Guttorm Bakken who was found dead in his hotel room in December.
Perhaps it was grief, or the shock of confronting human mortality that prompted Lægreid to, as he would say in a follow-up with NRK, “commit social suicide on live TV just to get that little chance.” Or perhaps he’s just a guy who has trouble controlling himself, as might be attested by his public apology, the reason for the apology, and the fact that in 2023 he was banned from the Biathlon World Cup after shooting his gun in a hotel room.
People tend to think of Scandinavians as emotionally repressed and stoic, but thanks to the (very uneven, in my opinion) work of Joachim Trier and the literary output of a few masters of autofiction, I happen to know they are constantly battered about by romantic turmoil. Sturla finds himself in good company.
But what of the love of his life? The world’s most beautiful and nicest person? Would she be moved by his tearful pleading? This question plagued me long into the night, and now, thanks to the intrepid work of Norwegian tabloid VG, in a triple-bylined piece, we have our answer: Not really.
According to the authors, the woman in question, who is choosing to remain anonymous, “would first and foremost like to congratulate Holm Lægreid's teammate Johan-Olav Botn on winning the gold medal in the same race.” Personally I would opt to attach my name to a quote that cutting, but I understand her reasoning. She goes on to say “I did not choose to be put in this position, and it hurts to have to be in it. We have had contact and he is aware of my opinions on this.” I’m sure he is.
At first glance this sounds fairly definitive, but she also explained,” It's hard to forgive. Even after a declaration of love in front of the whole world." Hard … but not impossible?
It is not my place to tell this anonymous Norwegian woman what to do with her life. I will simply note that I have found it in my heart to forgive people who never medaled in anything. Does Lægreid seem like the sort of person who will learn from this mistake and dedicate himself to the rigorous introspection and honest self-accounting that it requires? No, not really. He seems like a fairly selfish moron who follows every heedless whim. But winters are long and brutal in Oslo, and I certainly would not judge how anyone decides to keep warm.
