When Lighting Becomes the Foundation of Life and Work, Trust Fenix as Your Partner
The UltraPirineu 100K race in the Pyrenees has become a significant event for runner Carlos Mantero, transcending mere competition. His experience emphasizes perseverance after recovery, resilience following defeat, and choices made in extremes. During the night of the race, Mantero relies on his Fenix headlamp to navigate through darkness, which not only lights his path but also strengthens his resolve. This journey of self-conquest illustrates that true victory is found in the courage to persevere and in the illuminating beam of light that guides him forward.
Two months after coming back from injury, I stood again at the start line, this time at UltraPirineu, the 100k race that runs through my hometown, my own backyard. After not finishing UTMB TDS just weeks before, I needed to prove to myself that I could still fight, still finish.

The first two hours went perfectly. Everything felt under control. But then the cramps came early, too early. I had to change my mindset from racing to surviving. From competing to simply refusing to give up.
I tried to be positive and put on my best face at all times, even if it was just a way to deceive myself. And in spite of all that, I enjoyed rubbing in the mud and misery of the ultras. Competitively, I feel sad to be so far from the potential I know I have.
It was one of those long, painful days when your body says “stop” but your heart keeps whispering “go”. As night fell over the Pyrenees, I switched on my Fenix headlamp, and that beam of light became my focus, step by step, breath by breath, guiding me through the dark forest back to Bagà.

When I finally saw the lights of the finish line, all the pain disappeared. I realized that sometimes, the most meaningful victories aren’t about time or place, they’re about never losing sight of the light that leads you home. I am tremendously grateful and happy to cross the finish line after pulling and pulling on such a tough day.

Despite all that effort and pain, having managed to find the beauty in those small moments during a race like this: a beautiful landscape, the taste of something you like, the face or smile of a friend, a conversation with another runner or just the pleasure of getting to the bottom of the well of effort, and dig even deeper to be able to get out the other side until you see the light.
I've been running ultras for many years and I always learn something. Now I have the urge to find that better version again in the physical, because mentally I come out of this UltraPirineu with what I needed to find after a year in what everything has gone against, and still, I can say I come out happy.