moving the mountain way

Words by Henrik Rostrup
Photos by Matti Bernitz

This is a conversation with Kilian Jornet.

Not about records, split times, or outcomes — but about how movement feels when it’s stripped back to its essentials. About growing up in the mountains, learning to move through them lightly, and how that relationship has evolved over time. We talk about simplicity, responsibility, family, and the quiet moments that exist between data points.

The phrase “The Mountain Way Is The Fun Way” sits at the centre of the conversation — not as a slogan, but as a lived philosophy shaped by years of moving through wild terrain under his own power.

This is Kilian, reflecting on effort, joy, and why the mountain way still matters.

Kilian Jornet hand touching wet fallen autumn leaves on the ground in a forest. The person is wearing a black long sleeve shirt and a Coros watch with a The Mountain Way is the Fun way wriststrap. The background is blurred of trees and leaves.
Kilian Jornet running on a trail covered in fallen autumn leaves in a forested area.
Kilian Jornet climbing a steep trail, with greenery and trees in the background. Kilian Jornet is wearing a Coros watch and a long sleeve shirt.

I

You’ve put the phrase “The Mountain Way Is The Fun Way” on this COROS watch band. What does it mean to you, personally?

For me, “The Mountain Way Is The Fun Way” is about choosing how you move, not just where you go. The mountains taught me that effort can be playful, that challenge doesn’t have to be serious, and that simplicity brings freedom.

Kilian Jornet in a white NNormal jacket adjusting the hood, with sunlight filtering through trees in the background.
Kilian Jornet running outdoors in a winter landscape with snow, trees, mountains, and a clear blue sky, wearing a white NNormal jacket and black pants.
Kilian Jornet running outdoors through a wooded area with trees and snow on the ground, wearing a white NNormal jacket and black pants.

II

When you were a kid, did you already feel that, or did it come later?

As a child, the mountains were my playground. Then they became my training ground. It was fun, so the mountain way became the fun way.

At some point, the relationship shifted from using the mountains to caring for them. When did that happen for you?

Now they’re something I want to keep exploring and also protecting. Becoming a parent changes your perspective so caring for the mountains stopped being optional when I realised that love without responsibility isn’t enough. If these places have given me so much, protecting them is the minimum I can do.

You’re known for keeping things light and simple in the mountains. What does that change for you out there?

With this lightness, you have to be patient, adaptable, and honest. You learn that progress comes from consistency, not intensity. You need to trust yourself and your essential equipment.

Whether you’re running, skiing, or biking, you rely almost entirely on human power. What does that teach you?

It shows you where your real limits are — and how often they’re different from what you imagined. Without shortcuts, you’re fully present. Every meter is earned, and that makes the experience more meaningful.

You now spend more time in the mountains with your family. How has that changed things?

It slows everything down in a good way. You notice smaller details. The experience becomes less about achievement and more about sharing — moments, curiosity, time. It deepens the connection, both to the mountains and to the people you’re with.

You often say you train by feel, with “fun” as the guiding rule. How has that kept you going over the years?

Because fun doesn’t mean easy — it means honest. The mountains taught me that effort can still feel light, that joy can exist inside difficulty. That mindset keeps motivation alive, even when goals change.

On days when training doesn’t feel fun, how do you deal with that?

Of course, there's days that training is not fun. Maybe it rains, maybe you're tired... And you just have to put on the "work gear" and get the training done. However, I try to see it as an overall good thing as I'm doing what I love the most, which is being in the mountains. Then, I try to enjoy it as much as I can, and learn about the journey... And sometimes, just resting to protect my motivation. 

States of Elevation was an extraordinary physical effort, but it felt like more than a numbers project. What stays with you now?

What stays with me are the moments between the numbers: the silence before a long climb, the people I shared the journey with, the uncertainty. Data can explain what happened, but it can’t explain how it felt. Those experiences matter because they change how you see yourself and the world.

When someone puts on the “The Mountain Way” watch band, what do you hope it reminds them of before heading out?

For me, it’s a reminder of where everything started. Running to school in the Pyrenees, skiing for hours without a plan, moving because it felt right. The words mean freedom, respect, and joy in effort. My relationship with the mountains has evolved, but that feeling hasn’t changed. The mountain way is still the fun way — because it keeps me grounded, curious, and alive.

Kilian Jornet outdoors in a snowy forest mixes up ski equipment, wearing a black jacket, a beanie, and sunglasses on his forehead.
Kilian Jornet skiing on a snowy landscape with mountains and trees in the background.
Kilian Jornet cross-country skiing in snowy woods, wearing winter gear including gloves and a hat with goggles, holding ski poles, with a motion-blurred background indicating movement.

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