For Cortina D’Ampezzo’s Paralympic athlete, it’s not only about competing, winning, or improving, but about rediscovering, each time, a dialogue with oneself. Within this intimate exchange with the mountain, the Dolomites are not merely a backdrop, but a constant presence—a visual and emotional matrix that accompanies every conscious gesture.

His path moves through fractures and reconstructions, moments of interruption and new possibilities. And yet, what emerges is not a story divided into chapters, but rather a continuous transformation. Skiing becomes a form of understanding: of what was, of what has become, and of what continues to evolve.

In this conversation, the Paralympic champion reflects on his relationship with the mountain, his body, and time—offering a perspective that goes beyond competition, restoring to sport a deeper dimension.

When you think back to your relationship with snow and skiing, what is the first image that comes to mind? A gesture, a landscape, a bodily sensation, or something even more intimate?

“More than a gesture, I think of a place. The Cinque Torri, above Cortina. That’s where my mind always goes back. It’s a space that has become unique to me—not just because of where I’m from, but because of the time spent there, the training, the sense of belonging. And then there are the sensations: the mountain wind, the feeling of freedom. It’s something very simple, yet very deep.”

You’ve moved through other sports, other gestures, other forms of strength. What did shot put, javelin, and the disciplines you practiced before returning to skiing teach you?

“After the accident, athletics was the first step. It was more of a discovery than training at first. I owe a lot to Orlando Maruggi, who has supported me from the beginning. Through shot put and javelin I discovered the Paralympic world—its people, its stories. It also helped me find balance again, to shift my focus away from what had happened. Physically, it gave me a lot: strength, explosiveness—things I later brought into skiing. But at some point I understood I needed to choose, to focus. And the direction was clear.”

Many athletes describe their return as a form of redemption. In your case, was going back to the snow more an act of courage, desire, or reconciliation?

“I would say desire. I never saw what happened to me as something negative. I’ve always had this mindset: you have to try. Always. Without regrets. When I first skied with the monoski, I immediately recognized the same sensations I had before. It felt natural. Not a break, but a continuation—just in a different form. The dream stayed the same.”

You grew up in San Vito di Cadore, where the mountain is culture before it is sport. How much do you feel your athletic identity is also a form of belonging to that landscape?

“In those places, skiing is almost inevitable. It’s part of life. I feel deeply connected to that landscape. The Dolomites are something unique—almost pictorial. It’s like living inside a painting. I feel very lucky. It’s a place I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

What did it mean to be an ambassador for the Milan-Cortina Games, in the places where you grew up, and to win a medal at home?

“It was an honor, but also a responsibility. Competing at home comes with different expectations, more pressure. Maybe that’s why the medals mean even more. Being an ambassador for Milan-Cortina is something I’ll carry with me forever. Those are moments that stay with you.”

Skiing has a strong aesthetic dimension: trajectories, balance, lines. Do you ever think of your discipline as a form of art?

“Yes, even if not always consciously. When you ski, you’re always searching for the right line, a clean turn, a sense of continuity. There’s an idea of harmony, of roundness. I like to think that beyond skiing well, there’s also something visually beautiful in it. In racing, of course, other things matter—but that pursuit remains. And in fresh snow, when you’re the first to pass, to carve the line… that really feels close to art.”

What do you think Paralympic skiing reveals about contemporary sport that still isn’t fully seen?

“There’s still a lack of visibility, that’s clear. Not only for Paralympic sports, but for many Olympic ones too. But things are changing. There’s more engagement, more attention. The Milan-Cortina Paralympics showed that—there was real participation, real emotion. And in the end, it’s emotion that creates connection.”

What does it mean to be supported by a global brand like adidas in your journey as a Paralympic athlete?

“It means a lot. It’s something that not long ago felt out of reach. Paralympic sport had less visibility, and sponsorships were harder to access. Seeing a brand like adidas support this world today is a strong signal—not just for me, but for the entire system.”

Beyond results, what kind of presence do you want to leave in today’s sports landscape?

“I’d like to be an example. Not just for high-level athletes, but for younger people. To show that it’s important to try, to experiment, to find your own path. And above all, to enjoy it. Enjoyment is at the core of everything. It’s what pushes you forward, to improve, to go beyond.”

After years of work and achievements, how has your idea of ambition changed?

“Goals always change. At the beginning it was about reaching the World Cup, then the Paralympics, then winning them. Now I focus more on the present. The next big goal is the Paralympics in France, but at the same time I feel the need to slow down, to spend time with my family. What remains constant is the desire to improve—always. In sport and in life.”