Kiss the glory or die trying. Losing is death, winning means
breathing. The struggle is what makes a victory, a winner. How many
times have you cried of rage and pain? How many times have you lost
your memory, your voice and your judgment because of your tiredness?
And in this situation, how many times have you been thinking: Try
again! A couple of hours more! Another hill! Pain does not exist, it
is only in your head! Control it, destroy it, delete it, carry on!
Make your opponents suffer, kill them. I am selfish, am I not? Sport
is selfish because one has to be selfish to be able to fight and
suffer, to love loneliness and hell. To stop, to cough, to be
freezing, not feeling one's legs, to feel nauseous, to vomit, have
headache, a shock, blood running down your body... Have you got
something better to offer me?
The secret is not in the legs. It is to find enough courage to go out
and run when it's raining, windy, when it's snowing. When flashes of
lightning hit the trees. When snowballs or ice rain hit your legs,
your body and make you cry. To continue, you have to dry the tears
from your face to be able to see the stones, the obstacles, the sky.
Forget some hours of party, face tens of reproaches, say no to a girl,
to the warmth of the blanket covering your face... Send everything to
hell and go out in the rain until your legs bleed after having fallen
down and risen again to keep running up... Until your legs shout:
ENOUGH! And leave you alone in the middle of a storm in unknown
mountains... until death.
Shorts drenched by the snow, brought by the wind that slaps you face
and freezes your sweat. Light body, light legs. Feel the way the
pressure of your legs and the weight of your body are concentrated on
the metatarsus of your feet's fingers, exerting a pressure capable of
breaking stones, destroying planets and moving continents. With both
legs in the air, flying like an eagle and running faster than a
cheetah. Or when you are going downhill, when your legs sink in snow
or mud, just before pushing forward, and make you feel free to fly,
scream of rage, of hatred and love in the heart of the mountain, where
only the bravest rodents or birds can become your confessors, hidden
in their nest under the rocks..
They are the only ones who know your secrets and your fears. Because
losing means dying. And you cannot die without giving your best,
everything, without crying because of pain and injuries, you cannot
give up. You have to fight until death. Glory is the greatest thing,
you cannot reach it without giving everything you have. You have to
fight, suffer and die. Without that, nothing is worth it. The time to
suffer has come, the time to fight has come, the time to win has come.
Kiss or die.
Courtesy of the Skyrunning Manifesto.