Mátrabérc trails | May 3, 2025

Up to Kékes, down from Kékes, up to Galyatető, sliding down on the seat of my pants on the steep stony parts.

We were only halfway through the Mátrabérc, but the terrain had already worn me out, as my legs, accustomed to street races, certainly didn't like the 2,800m elevation gain.

Around Muzsla, I wasn't really running uphill anymore, I was rather just hiking.

There was time to think, to filter out the noise of the modern world, to be with my own thoughts. To watch the bugs, listen to the birds, high-five the trees, admire the leaves.

To discover the fractal-like wonders of nature.

Approaching the finish, I switched from hiking mode to survival mode. This was my favorite part: finally, a little struggle. Survival is my specialty – I thought to myself, and I could live this out here over 55km.

The route is beautiful, along the ridge of the Mátra all the way. I completed the distance in 7.5 hours, but I planned it that way: where the muscles get tired, I continue from the heart – my parents were waiting for me at the finish, and not only was Mother's Day approaching, but also my mother's birthday, so I picked a few wild flowers along the way.

It was a great experience running behind my trail-running friend Marci Gorka for the first 15 km. Experienced on terrain, I felt safe behind him, but I had no idea what would happen in the next 40 km. For many trail runners, Mátrabérc is not a big deal, but it was new to me, especially coming from the world of street running races.

Exciting. Uncertain. Endless dopamine – what will happen here? Will I even finish? Will I have to drop out? Can I go up the mountain? One? Two? All three?

But what is even more questionable: will I be able to come down too?

After completing each tough section, the body's internal self-reward system is sky-high: dopamine, anandamide, oxytocin, endorphins. But fortunately, we don't have to be biochemists here – it's enough if we feel its effect: pain-killing hormone, reward hormone, love hormone, hormone responsible for connection, and a mixture of similar molecules. Everything a "substance addict" also craves. But it makes a difference whether we dose it from the outside – with a smartphone, alcohol, drugs, and other non-digital narcotics and addictions – or if our brain produces it, and exactly as much as we need. And not "just like that," cheap dopamine by scrolling through TikTok videos, but through real struggle – effort. And this is exactly what terrain-flow, runner-flow, the movement-induced flow experience spiced with the beauty of nature causes.

But I remind myself again and again: it can be addictive. You shouldn't overdo it, and it can be dangerous to "overdose": this time last year in the Börzsöny, I ended up with a ruptured ankle ligament.

The momentum carried me, the flow carried me, but in the Mátra I "ran" smarter.

There were many hours of the journey alone – but not lonely, as I was with myself. I felt that in the forest I could be a child again for a while. In my head, I flew back 25 years in time.

From my childhood, two of my favorite stories came to mind. One is Tarzan, the other is Mowgli. As a kid walking in the forest, I regularly imagined myself as a gorilla jumping on branches, or Bagheera gliding between trees. The Mátrabérc is not just a trail running race, but also a huge playground. And since I was already there in my childhood in my head, I also tried to fix one or two of my wounded inner child parts.

And I also thought about how I fought for my engineering dreams for a quarter of a century, but in today's world, this is often about sitting in front of a computer, planning, programming, meeting. These online Teams meetings are also cool, and the LinkedIn posts are "cute" where many people promote how much they still work even on the long weekend, on the occasion of Labor Day. And we consider this normal – in an abnormal world.

I understand, because I lived this approach too.

But today, for me, life is elsewhere: not in business meetings, not in the office, not in the noise of the big city, not in conference rooms, not in virtual reality, and not in the world of digital deception, but in the forest, in the mountains, in the freedom of running, in the joy of movement – most recently at the Mátrabérc.