Since I began the Morgenrot Trail, there's always one time of year that brings certain memories and pressures. Winter.
Autumn and winter have always been my favorite seasons. Winter, with its pristine white, the damp and refreshing snow, the mystical silence it creates by absorbing the sounds of coniferous forests dressed in their purest finery.
*Image by Greg Reese from Pixabay
For as long as I can remember, learning to ski was always my greatest dream. Probably the oldest dream that has accompanied me. I remember watching all kinds of ski competitions on television, always dreaming about what it was like to be on those skis, behind those protective goggles, enjoying the caress of the freezing wind and the spectacular views from the snowy peaks. One memory that always stays with me is the alpine skiing world championships that took place in Sierra Nevada, Granada, which had to be postponed for a year due to lack of snow.
I remember how two decades later, while working at the 30m IRAM radio telescope, located right on the ski slopes of the Granada resort, I was able to fulfill my desire. I have special memories of a day of virgin snow, descending my first and only black run, slaloming and enjoying it like never before with my colleague Frederik, on the very slope where, in those world championships, Alberto Tomba, after calling Granada "Africa" for the initial suspension of the event, bathed in gold after a historic exhibition in the slalom.
After that, I believed skiing would be part of my life forever. And it was... Until anxiety, Grima, came to me.
My first winter snow experience came just weeks after Serpent besieged my mind. I tell this story in all its details in the first part of The Morgenrot Trail. We had gone up the mountain to enjoy a heavy snowfall in Heidelberg. A year earlier, I had driven hours alone with Alma to enjoy a sledding day in the Black Forest. It was a wonderful day whose memories captured by camera adorn our walls today. But this time it wasn't the same.
With anxiety, everything changed. Every time we went sledding, I arrived overwhelmed by internal doubts. Would my heart be able to hold up? Was it too much effort? Was I going too fast? Too slow? Were we too far from home? I was never able to enjoy the snow again from that year on. And as you can probably guess, even less could I ski again. The terror of seeing myself on a chairlift, the terror of breathing too much, of suffering an attack in the middle of the resort has blocked me for years.
That's why this Sunday, January 4th, 2026, a very special moment arrived. I had proposed to go ice skating with Alma. When we proposed it to her, she didn't think twice. It was clear she wanted to go and that we were going to go.
There was no turning back. Grima appeared again. She didn't speak much, but she came with all those symptoms. Upset stomach, chest tightness, palpitations, dizziness... Anxiety was clear. It wasn't time to go ice skating. No, no, no.
But there was no turning back. I wasn't going to deprive Alma of it. So we headed to the skating rink. I made the journey under all possible symptoms of anxiety, but I was very clear that there was no other option. We had to go.
We arrived, put on our skates, and my symptoms of dizziness, chest tightness, and stomach upset intensified to the maximum. But I put on my skates and went in to skate. At every moment, panic struck harder and harder. As I moved away from the entrance to the rink, even more so. Halfway through the first lap, while taking a breather on the edge, I told myself I would leave after finishing the first lap, that it was enough.
The moment came to pass by the entrance. The heat was suffocating even though we were below zero. I was certain that heat came from a possible heart attack, as my head was spinning and my chest was pounding. I was going to leave. But at that moment something revealed itself within me. Again? New year and everything stays the same? No, friend, no. This year is going to be different. Let's keep going. This is the same as always.
Stay here and skate!
And so I did.
Joy took hold of me instantly. The suffocating heat had turned into sweat from the movement. I opened my jacket letting the air caress me. The jaws of terror turned into an indelible smile! I felt the palpitations and Grima wanted me to check my pulse, but I didn't need to. No. I was fine. Skating requires effort and with so many clothes all of this was normal. I was able to enjoy those beats in my chest like when I used to train seriously! For an hour and a half we were able to enjoy the ice as a real family. It was a unique moment. Of enormous beauty and emotional significance. For the first time in 5 years I was enjoying a winter sport again!
We all left with so much energy that even at night we went to Luisenpark, in neighboring Mannheim, to walk through a snowy park full of light sculptures and enjoy the night.
But it didn't end there. Two days later, this morning, we woke up to a tremendous snowfall in Heidelberg. A carpet of perfect white on the ground. Without thinking, we headed to the mountain. We walked and climbed it to the top, enjoying every step, every breath, every snowflake, the cold, the heat, the effort, everything.
But life still had another gift for us. Another sign that this year will be the one that brings me back to life. Today I enjoyed the snow and the other day the ice but... What about skiing? Will this be the year? I mentioned it to Manon and we decided not to wait any longer.
I write these lines just after having booked a hotel room at the foot of the slopes for this weekend.
As you can see, my resolution for this year is clear. Face it, face it, and face it. Don't let anxiety take me again. I'm going to recover all those sensations and situations that anxiety took from me. And I will do it with complete determination. Because this is my life and this is my Morgenrot.
And this is just another case that is mine, because many people follow the same path to free themselves from the clutches of anxiety and fear. They face it, face it, and face it. They attack again and again the doors of that old fortress that is now barred by their versions of Grima.
But the doors will open. When we've hit them so many times that the hinges can't take it anymore, they will open and we will recover our life.
But when we enter we will see that it will not be the same life it was, but with the strength and resilience we have gained, we will have forged a much fuller life.
Keep at it. And follow me to read more as we wait for The Morgenrot Trail to be ready to go to print and help thousands of people.