The past few years, my body has forced me to slow down more than once.

Not because I wanted to.
But because there was simply no other choice.

Surgeries.
Pain.
Limits I couldn’t push through.

And yet, I kept going.

Just like I always do.

Working.
Making plans.
Keeping myself moving, even when my body was actually telling me to stop.

Until my body finally said: enough.

Since September, I have started again.

Not like before.

Not to become better.
Not to prove to myself that I can still do it.

But simply…

to feel what is still possible.

First, walking.

Small distances.
Without a goal.

Just being outside.

Then, every now and then, a little running.

Carefully.
Searching.

Sometimes two steps forward.
Then three steps back.

Meanwhile, I’m training for my first trail run in May.
A hike in the Ardennes in June.
And 42 kilometres in Antwerp in September.

Things that once felt impossibly far away.

And yet, it feels different now.

Because somewhere, the logical choice would be cycling.

In Calpe.
Among all the cyclists.

Speed.
Performance.
Pushing forward.

But I notice that this is not what I need anymore.

I want to be closer to nature.

To feel more.
To push less.

Walking brings me back to myself.

It is softer.

But that doesn’t make it any less powerful.

Real strength is not always found in continuing.

Sometimes it is found in slowing down.
In listening.
In choosing what you need in that moment.

And perhaps that is what Árbol has become for me.

Not a place where you have to achieve.

But a place where you can arrive.

Where you can walk.
Where you can reconnect with yourself.

Maybe that is also what is slowly beginning to take shape here.

Moments where we slow down together.
Walk.
Step away from the constant need to do.

No big plans.
No pressure.

Simply being outside…

and finding a little peace again.