What do you like about the X-Pyr that keeps you coming back for more?
Because it’s not just a race—it’s a mirror. X-Pyr shows you who you are when the wind changes, the legs burn, and you still have to think clearly. I come back for that honest challenge… and for the feeling that every day you earn the right to keep going.

How is the X-Pyr different from other H&F competitions you have taken part in?
X-Pyr is a full-body chess match played in the mountains. The Pyrenees don’t care about your plans, your ego, or your excuses. You have to adapt, stay humble, and keep your decision-making sharp. That’s why it feels like the ultimate classroom.

How was your race in your previous edition(s)?
It was wild, beautiful, and demanding. I finished 14th overall and became the first Brazilian to complete X-Pyr—something I’m proud of, not as a trophy, but as a door opened for my country.
Some days I flew free; other days I fought for every meter—both taught me a lot.

What was the best thing that happened to you in your last X-Pyr?
The best thing was realising I wasn’t “visiting” the international scene anymore—I was part of it. Landing near athletes I’ve admired, sharing quiet moments on launch, and feeling that respect is earned through consistency… that’s a memory I’ll never forget.

What was the worst thing that happened to you in your last X-Pyr?
The worst moments were the invisible battles. When the day goes slow, you learn discipline. You learn to accept the pace of the mountains—and still keep moving.

What did you learn during the previous edition(s)?
That speed is a consequence, not a goal. The winners are the ones who keep the basics clean: transitions, food, hydration, sleep, and calm communication with the supporter. And emotionally: humility is not “being small”—it’s being fully present.

If you could have input into the route, what would you suggest to the organisation?
I’d keep the soul of X-Pyr intact—raw, technical, and real. Maybe add a couple of sections with more tactical options, where different styles can create different stories. And yes, I love the symbolism of the finish.

What changes have you made to your equipment for this edition?
I’m simplifying everything. The goal is a setup that works fast, works tired, and works under pressure: lighter organisation, smoother transitions, reliable comms, and a system that protects energy. I want my gear to disappear—so my focus stays on decisions.

Apart from flying far and walking little, what will your strategy be during the race?
Do the basics perfectly, every day. I’ll split the race into small wins—next climb, next safe glide, next smart landing. I’m not here to look brave; I’m here to be consistent. And consistency is what turns dreams into results.

What three pieces of advice would you give to Rookies in the race?
Respect the mountains—your pride is heavier than your backpack. Don’t spend your energy twice: once in bad choices, and again fixing them. Build a rhythm with your supporter—clear roles, calm talk, steady execution.

What about your training? How many hours do you fly a year?
I train 10–15 hours per week on the ground—endurance, strength, and mountain specificity. And in the last 12 months I flew around 400 hours, because in hike & fly, airtime is where you sharpen judgment and efficiency.

How do you know your supporter? And have you worked as athlete/supporter before?
My supporter is my girlfriend. We’ve trained together, struggled together, and learned how to stay calm under stress. In long H&F races, the strongest advantage is trust—because when your brain is tired, your team becomes your compass.

Anything else you like to comment?
Last edition I sold my car to make the start line possible. That was my all-in—my way of saying: “I’m not waiting for permission to chase my dream.” I’m still on foot since then… but with wings, and with the world opening up, one mountain at a time.