The answer for WHY...

 

People often ask me: “Are you serious? 130 kilometers? Are you out of your mind?” Maybe I am. But there’s method, purpose, and meaning behind this madness.

Movement has always been a part of my life ,but not in the way it is for others. I never saw it as a privilege. For me, it was a tool. A tool to survive, to grow, to move forward.

I’ve been working since I was 16. I started during high school just so I could afford to go on a summer holiday with a friend by plane, which back then was a luxury. Then I worked for big companies, became self-employed, worked 12-hour days with only 2–3 days off per month. I managed a large maintenance team in a factory, then gave it all up and moved abroad starting over from scratch as a cleaner.

I had to work hard for everything. Nothing came for free. And in the midst of all that stress, starting over, and constant effort running entered my life.

I’m not young anymore. I don’t run to win races. I’m not and never will be fast enough to win big competitions. In this sport, your main competitor is yourself. Sometimes you chase a better time, sometimes a longer distance, sometimes tougher terrain. Sometimes you just run because you want to. But the fight is always internal.

The hardest part? Staying motivated. Because yes, it can be boring. It can hurt. It can feel pointless. But all it takes is putting on your shoes. Going outside. Taking that first step. The rest will follow.

For me, running is also therapy. When others turn to food, alcohol, cigarettes, games, or other addictions to deal with stress I run. That’s how I let off steam. It helps my body, but more importantly, it helps my mind. It improves circulation, weight management, and mental health. It brings balance.

This all started as a joke. Someone once said, “You? A marathon?” And I as with many things in my life took it seriously. I ran it. Then I ran it again. Faster. Better. Then I wondered what came after the marathon… and then what came after that.

Now here I am: preparing for 130 kilometers. And yes, the question is fair: “How far can you take this?” For me, the limit is what you can still run without sleep deprivation. That’s around 24 hours. Anything beyond that, in my opinion, becomes unhealthy.

But just like in life, this only works if you have a goal. Something that drives you. Something to work for. Something you want to achieve. And for months now, that goal has been on my mind: How can I do this? How can I reach it?

Now here I am. Ready or at least close.