I’m not a fan of training programs. I’m a fan of running magic. I have got a glimpse of it and that’s enough for me. It’s the image of running magic that makes my stride feather light. Just thinking of leaving my work chair, walking out the door of the office, and run, if only 50 metres, I know these metres will be magical. That’s what I call premium fuel: the image of running beauty. I know that in every stride I will celebrate this ancient art, just like the Lung-Pa monks, running without touching the ground, just like I do in my dreams.
I have used the Matrix-metaphor before, the one when you watch the surroundings while hanging in the air. We could talk about things we do while being airborne in the running act. Wheather it’s appropriate do decorate the moment with a quick tango kick. I first heard about running performance from an artistic point of view 10 years ago.
A french adventure sports photographer told me about this french trail running “guru” with crazy ideas about competing in trail running just like freestyle skiing or ice skating, with judges giving points for style, difficulty, originality etc. During the years I have carried this idea with me on my trail runs, trying to stay true to the moment and the animal instincts within, creating poetry in motion, in nature.
Maybe it’s something I brought from freeskiing with friends in Chamonix in my early 20’s. When freeskiing your focus is feeling, having fun, exploring nature into the smallest facet, and facing the challenges. Above all it’s about the experience. I can clearly recall when we gathered at the bottom, tired, laughing, with burning legs, wiping powder snow from the goggles, loosening the ski boots. I’m still doing it, but nowadays with muddy trail running shoes, scratched legs and hands, debris in hair and ripped clothes. The legs are still burning from running everywhere. And I’m still smiling.