Sometime after turning forty (which, yes, sounds suspiciously like the beginning of a mid-life crisis), we realised something. Life had become wonderfully full. Between raising children, building businesses, navigating life in a second language, remembering whose turn it was to organise the birthday gift and trying to keep a household functioning, our days rarely lacked purpose. But somewhere along the way, they had quietly stopped containing much adventure. Not because adventure had disappeared, but because we'd stopped choosing it.
As children, adventure finds us. We climb trees because they're there, ride our bikes until the streetlights come on, try new sports, scrape our knees and think nothing of making complete fools of ourselves. Then, almost imperceptibly, that changes. As adults, we become remarkably efficient at staying within the edges of our own competence. We gravitate towards the things we already know we're good at. We optimise. We repeat. We get comfortable.
There's absolutely nothing wrong with comfort. In many ways, it's something we've worked incredibly hard to build. But comfort rarely surprises us, and somewhere after forty, we realised we missed being surprised.
So we started asking ourselves a slightly ridiculous question: what if we deliberately did something hard? Not because anyone expected us to, and not because we had anything to prove. Simply because we'd forgotten what it felt like to be beginners again.
Trail running felt like an odd place to start.
If you'd asked us a year ago whether we'd ever sign up for a trail race, the answer would have been an immediate—and probably slightly amused—no. Running? Sure. Running up mountains? Absolutely not. That belonged to another category of human: people with impossibly toned legs, tiny hydration packs and an alarming enthusiasm for waking up before sunrise on a Saturday.
This was not us.
And yet, we'd been feeling a quiet pull towards the mountains for a while. We'd both discovered a love of running, found ourselves spending more time hiking, and started wondering what it might feel like to experience those landscapes differently. We weren't looking for another hobby so much as another adventure—something that would challenge us, humble us and perhaps remind us that there were still parts of ourselves we hadn't met yet.
So, last November, almost on a whim, we signed up for our first trail race. We expected sore legs and spectacular views. What we didn't expect was that it would quietly change the way we experience Switzerland—and ourselves.
At first, we assumed we'd simply stumbled into a niche world. But the more we paid attention, the more we realised we weren't alone. Trail running has become one of the fastest-growing outdoor sports in the world, and nearly half of the runners lining up at trail races today are first-timers. It made us wonder if people aren't just discovering trail running—they're searching for something else entirely. Maybe, like us, they're looking for experiences that ask something of them.
Because somewhere between careers, children, calendars and screens, many of us have become incredibly good at living efficiently. What we seem to crave now are moments that feel wonderfully inefficient: the kind that take all morning, leave your legs aching for days and make you feel gloriously, undeniably present. For us, trail running became exactly that.
It gave purpose to Saturday mornings. It introduced us to villages we'd probably never have visited otherwise, to quiet alpine trails we'd have driven straight past and to a version of Switzerland that can't be appreciated from a train window or a restaurant terrace. Somewhere along the way, the mountains stopped being scenery and became somewhere we participated.
Just as unexpected was the community. We'd imagined trail running as an individual pursuit, but quickly discovered something different: a culture built on encouragement, shared effort and genuine celebration of simply making it to the finish. Conversations seemed to revolve less around times and rankings than around spectacular views, difficult climbs and memorable days in the mountains.
Something else changed too. For perhaps the first time in years, we stopped thinking about our bodies in terms of what they looked like and became fascinated by what they could do. Could we make it to the next ridge? Could we climb another few hundred metres? Could we keep going when every instinct suggested stopping? It turns out those are much more interesting questions.
We still don't think of ourselves as trail runners. We still get nervous before races. We still hike sections that everyone else seems to run. And there are still plenty of moments where we question every decision that led us to the side of a mountain before remembering—usually somewhere near the summit—exactly why we came.
Not because we've become athletes, but because we've become beginners again.
Perhaps that's why trail running feels so at home within The Lausanne Guide. We've never believed that living well in Switzerland is about ticking off a list of places to visit. It's about saying yes to experiences that connect us more deeply—to a place, to the people around us and, occasionally, to ourselves. For us, trail running became one of those experiences. For someone else, it might be learning to sail, trying cold-water swimming, joining a choir or finally signing up for that art class you've been talking about for years.
The point isn't the trail. It's remembering that adventure doesn't stop as you age. As children, adventure finds us. But as adults, perhaps our job is simply to remember to go looking for it. And what a gift that we get to live in the perfect place to do just that.
Thinking About Trying Trail Running?
If our story has inspired you to give trail running a try, these are a few of the events we've experienced over the past year. Each offered something completely different—and each reminded us why we fell in love with the sport.
Racetafari — Saint-Cergue
A relaxed, welcoming trail weekend with stunning Jura scenery, panoramic views over Lac Léman and an atmosphere that reminds you trail running is just as much about community as it is about crossing the finish line.
Trail Blanc La Tzoumaz
Experiencing the magic of trail running in winter. Snow underfoot, crisp alpine air and a completely different perspective on the mountains.
Urban Trail Lausanne
Curious about trail running but not quite ready for the mountains? This is a fantastic introduction that combines Lausanne's staircases, parks and hidden corners.
20KM de Lausanne
Not technically a trail race, but an iconic local event that's perfect for building endurance and confidence before venturing onto the trails.
Jura Swiss Trail
Rolling ridgelines, forests and panoramic views. A beautiful reminder that incredible trail running exists well beyond the Alps.
Trail des Paccots – La Veveyse
Friendly atmosphere, varied terrain and one of the most welcoming communities we've encountered.
Villars Ultraks
A true alpine experience with spectacular scenery and an electric race atmosphere.
Verbier X-Plore by UTMB
An ideal first mountain trail race (read: EPIC) for runners looking to challenge themselves in a breathtaking setting. Designed as an introduction to trail running while still offering a rewarding challenge.
Matterhorn Ultraks (August 2026)
Next on our list. We've yet to toe the start line, but with the Matterhorn as the backdrop and a course that winds through some of Switzerland's most spectacular alpine scenery, it's the race we're most looking forward to this year. We'll be taking on the Active course (19 km, 1,150 m of elevation gain) and can't wait to report back after experiencing it for ourselves.
A quick note before you sign up
Trail running is incredibly rewarding, but it also demands preparation. Choose a distance that matches your experience, train progressively, invest in appropriate footwear and mandatory gear, and take the time to understand the course, elevation and mountain conditions. If you're thinking about giving it a try and have questions, we'd genuinely love to help—feel free to reach out.
