At the starting line in Sälen, Sweden, beside nearly 16,000 skiers, the starting rifle sounds at 8:00 am

At the starting line in Sälen, Sweden, beside nearly 16,000 skiers, the starting rifle sounds at 8:00 am. We all move together towards Mora – 90 kilometers away. The start of the Vasaloppet is truly a moment outside of time. When the mass of speed and momentum wins, thousands push forward as if part of a single, living herd winding through the Swedish forests.

I grip my fragile poles, for everywhere lie broken pole parts and sunglasses. The race recalls Gustav Vasa in 1521, who sought support in Mora for a political coup to spark Sweden’s fight for independence – but in this moment I will set the national myth aside.

The blueberry soup is legendary: a small ritual, embedded in the epic. The magic lies in the community, the determination, the emotions, the grit, the fatigue – and a generous portion of self-reflection.

This year there is fresh, fluffy snow, which is beautiful to look at, but since there are almost no tracks, it’s no longer cross-country skiing – it’s like an acrobatic dance with no halt or safety. Thousands of skiers look like children learning to ski for the first time, and I ask myself: what the hell am I doing here? Why this madness?

I break the course into a mosaic: 90 kilometers full of mental anchor points, key sections, supply stations, the course profile – and the gold at the finish line – willpower and the medal. And something even better to look forward to after crossing the finish line. Every step counts. It really is step by step. Become your future self – behave like your future self, like the person you want to be.

“I fäders spår – för framtids segrar” – In the footsteps of our fathers, for the victories of the future. Sweden is known for its equality, but the Vasap motto focuses on fathers; indeed, it was mostly men. Today this race reminded us that greatness transcends time and gender. The winner crossed the finish line in Mora only ten minutes after the men, and I saw several para-ski athletes along the route. And I feel it: every finisher crossing the line in Mora is golden.

This is how we connect past and future: be the role model for your future self – become increasingly the person you want to be. In the short term: who do I want to be at the finish line? Who can I be on the course? In the long term: whether in high heels, sneakers or boots – with or without skis – what matters are balance, willpower, and self-leadership.

In the last kilometers the torches and candles move me in the fading dusk. Not heroism, but a recalibration of the comfort zone.