I’ve always been active—movement has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. Running has taken up a major place in my daily routine for several years now, and that place has evolved over time. I’m a runner who chases performance, but for whom the playful, joyful side of the sport remains the central pillar. For me, a running season isn’t just about race-day bibs. Yes, we set goals, we train specifically to perform well on race day—but other dimensions matter just as much, if not more.

Like many runners, I had an A-goal this season: the 50 km at Desert Rats by UTMB in Colorado last April. Everything was there—the trip with friends, the breathtaking landscapes, the level of competition of a “World Tour” event. Running in a place where desert canyons meet mountains, in that kind of heat, only days after training in the snow back home—all of it aligned perfectly with my desire to step outside my comfort zone. The race was incredible, exactly what I expected on every level. I had to dig deep, into an empty dimension, somewhere I hadn’t often dared to go. I performed really well, but the goal was never just time or placement; this trip was also an excuse to discover a part of the world I’d never seen, meet inspiring people, and strengthen friendships that already existed.

Now do you get what I mean by “dimensions”?

Running is my me time. I genuinely need it—physically and mentally. The mountains, the forest… they make up at least 90% of my runs. This dimension connects me to something immense, powerful, and calm all at once. Everything is always changing: the pace, the elevation, the technical level of the terrain, the seasons and conditions. Everything is set for the most relaxing outing or the most brutal session imaginable.

The social dimension plays a huge role. After Colorado, I lined up for three more races this year. The rankings, the pushing of limits—that’s all great. But what stands out the most from those events are the connections. An arm-wrestle battle with an unknown runner who becomes a friend once we cross the finish line. Lingering a little too long at the race site afterward because you keep bumping into people from the community you don’t see often enough. These moments stay with me just as much—if not more—than the race itself. This human dimension took on even greater meaning this season during an 80 km relay race on brutally technical, wild trails. This sport, so individual—me versus me—suddenly transformed into a collective effort. The race itself was terrible, but the memory I keep of it is positive because of them.

Discovering new places adds yet another dimension when taking part in running events. Because of my work, I travel from time to time. Over the past few years, I’ve had the chance to explore many cities, and running has allowed me to see what most people miss. Running through a city is the best way to truly see it—the people, the vibe, the smells, the less-touristy corners. To see the real dimension of these places. No matter the destination, my running shoes always come with me.

So, my recap of the season? I ran great races with great results—amazing. But what stands out is so much more than simply running, pushing myself, or measuring my season through performance. What I take away from it is exactly what I’m aiming for next year: to touch as many dimensions as possible—to fill them, to discover new ones, to make my sport bigger than itself. When you take a moment to step back, these different dimensions enrich this sport immensely—this simple action (right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot…) that is running.