When we think of the Campo dei Fiori Trail today, the first thing that fills us is a feeling of peace and freshness. We remember the breath of nature – that quiet whisper of wind through the treetops, the scent of damp earth, and the moment when sunlight spills through the forest. When we stepped onto the start line that day, we knew something special awaited us. It wasn’t just a run; it was an experience that would draw us in completely, uniting body, spirit, and nature into a single story.
Preparations that were already part of the journey
Everything began weeks earlier. Long Sunday runs, climbs on local hills, testing new shoes, packing our backpacks, checking the weather forecast. Every training session was a step closer to Italy, closer to the feeling of becoming part of the trail community once again. The preparations weren’t only physical – they were also mental. We thought about strategy, how to distribute energy, how to cope with the fatigue waiting for us on long climbs. Every hour spent on the trail was a small dose of courage and discipline.
As we read about Campo dei Fiori Park, its viewpoints, its lakes nestled below the mountain ridges, we knew this would be more than just a race. It was a promise – a promise of nature, community, movement, and that special sense of freedom that only the mountains can offer. Sometimes we imagined how the sunlight would blend with the mist over the lake, how we would listen to our own breathing, interrupted only by the rustling leaves.
The day before departure, we sorted out the last details. “Did you pack your headlamp? Do you have a spare shirt? Energy gels?” These small questions filled the car as we drove north. When we crossed the border, it became clear – now it truly begins. Every kilometre of the drive was filled with anticipation, every bend in the road like a small introduction to the adventure ahead.
A weekend that connects mountains, lakes, and people
The Campo dei Fiori Trail is not just a race – it’s a gathering. An event where runners, hikers, friends, and strangers come together, united by the same desire: to experience the mountain world in its purest form. The event takes place around Varese, in northern Italy, in the heart of the regional park Parco Regionale Campo dei Fiori. There, where the Alps descend toward the lowlands and lakes shimmer among the forests, stories are created that stay long after the finish line.
We arrived the day before the race. We wanted to feel the place, inhale the atmosphere, check our gear, drink an espresso in the town square, and watch the town slowly shift into trail-running rhythm. Stalls offered local specialties, children shared their smiles, and volunteers explained the routes. We looked toward the mountains with anticipation – calm, distant, almost mysterious.
In the evening we sat together – pasta, a glass of wine, and stories from previous years. On the table were maps and elevation profiles. The long route, nearly 70 km with 4,000 meters of ascent, for the well-prepared. The middle distance, 35 km, balanced between challenge and enjoyment. The short 28 km route, perfect for those wanting to taste the trail and nature without exhaustion. And all of us shared the same goal – to live a day we’d remember for a long time. Those moments before the start felt almost sacred – we all sensed that something meaningful awaited us.
A morning that smelled of mist and coffee
When we woke up, the sky was still shaded with grey clouds. A mist hovered above the lake, with the sun slowly trying to peek through as if to see who was heading out today. On the parking lots, runners warmed up, adjusted their timing chips, tightened their packs. We sipped our last sips of coffee and reminded ourselves that this moment was exactly what we had been training for all these months.
When the speaker announced the start, we set off – slowly at first, each with their own rhythm. The first kilometres through the forest passed in silence, broken only by breathing and the faint rustle of leaves. The trail began to rise, narrowing, our feet seeking grip while our hearts settled into their natural tempo. Every step became a small ritual, every breath full of forest and freshness.
Between footsteps, fresh air, and breathtaking views
Once we reached the higher sections, the scenery completely captivated us. Below us stretched Lake Varese, wrapped in a misty band, while above us the sunlit forests rose toward the sky. The silence you hear only when far from everyday noise filled the space between our steps.
On the climbs we exchanged encouraging words, and on the descents, we shared smiles. At aid stations, volunteers welcomed us – with warm smiles, soup, cheese and bread, sometimes even a cookie that tasted like home. These moments were more than just breaks – they were small memories etched into the body and stored in the heart.
The route led through the heart of nature – among beech, chestnut, and pine trees. Sometimes the trail split and surprised us – roots, rocks, narrow paths on the ridge with views stretching far into the valley. In those moments we said to ourselves, “This is why we came.” Every kilometre brought a new feeling – fatigue, relief, wonder, peace. Trail running has a way of pulling you into the present. You don’t think about the finish line; you think about the next step. About inhaling, exhaling, looking forward, and simply continuing.
The weather that tested us
Midway through the route, the sky closed in a bit. Clouds lowered, the air grew heavier, as if nature wanted to remind us that she sets the rules. The fog embraced the forest and made everything quieter. Our steps slowed, our breathing grew heavier, yet there was still something peaceful in it. Every movement required focus, every step awareness, every breath patience.
When the sun returned, we felt a surge of energy. As if nature rewarded us for our perseverance. The next ascent wasn’t easy, but it was beautiful. At the summit, we paused, looked around, and knew – the effort was worth it. Every drop of sweat, every stone underfoot, every muscle ache was part of this story, both physical and emotional.
The final kilometres – where fatigue turns into pride
As we sensed the trail descending toward the finish, our bodies were already telling their own story. Our legs were heavy, but our smiles had not disappeared. Music from the finish area could already be heard in the distance. Children clapped, people cheered runners’ names, and the smell of food reminded us of the “delicious” part awaiting us after the run.
The final metres were pure euphoria. When we crossed the finish line, we shook hands, hugged, and for a few moments simply stood there. No words, only breathing, exhaustion, and happiness. In that moment, you wish time would stop so you could hold onto all those feelings forever.
The morning after – calm and full of meaning
The next morning we woke to complete quiet. Our bodies were tired, but our hearts were light. At a lakeside café, we sipped coffee, watched the mist rise above the water, and shared impressions. Who almost missed a turn, who met an old friend at an aid station, who laughed at themselves on the last climb. In those moments, it became clear – the Campo dei Fiori Trail wasn’t just a race. It was a moment of reflection, a time for gratitude, a memory for every step and every breath.
What we brought home
Looking at the photos today, we remember every detail. Every step, every smile, every patch of mist, every aid station, every view. The Campo dei Fiori Trail taught us that it’s not important how fast you reach the finish – what matters is that you arrive with a smile. That you’re present, that you feel.
It wasn’t just a run. It was an experience. A journey through nature and through ourselves. A path that left a memory which will stay long after the last step, the last breath. And that’s why we know – we will return. We’ll return for more views, more laughter, more moments that imprint themselves onto body and soul.
Conclusion – more than a trail, more than a day
Every trail has its own soul, but Campo dei Fiori has something special – that feeling that you’re part of something bigger. That you’re not there just to conquer kilometres, but to experience them. To connect with nature, with yourself, and with the people who breathe the same air and share the same passion. And when you leave those paths, something inside you changes. You become softer, more grateful, more alive. Campo dei Fiori taught us that the true victory is not the medal, but the peace you carry home.