“Flying means freedom.” When those words come from eight-time Acrobatic Paragliding World Champion Théo De Blic, the rhetoric that has gradually attached itself to this familiar metaphor quietly dissolves. What remains is substance: the ultimate rationale of an extreme sporting discipline whose fragile elegance and hypnotic beauty captivate anyone who pauses to watch.

Then you witness his body sketching sweeping arcs and razor-sharp trajectories, ascending and descending through the white Swiss clouds after climbing the mountain giants he now surveys from above. Suddenly, the words of this extraordinary 32-year-old Frenchman begin to assume a cinematic dimension. A dialogue with gravity, where every movement seems suspended between discipline and inspiration.

It is here, high above the crystalline lakes of the Bernese Oberland, that we encounter De Blic’s reflections. At this altitude, everything grows lighter, more rarefied, except for the clarity of purpose required to pursue excellence in a discipline shaped as much by uncertainty as by sensation. Raised within the sport itself, he has embraced it, grown alongside it, and elevated it on the international stage until becoming a singular figure within its contemporary landscape.

Our conversation takes place during one chapter of Adrenaline Expeditions, the portrait series conceived by Snow Goose by Canada Goose, inspired by the meeting point between sport and the limits of human potential; between some of the world’s most extraordinary landscapes and artistic, as much as athletic, interpretations of what an expedition can be.

We always like to begin from the origins of each interviewee’s sporting passion. How and why did paragliding enter your life so early on? What were the tangible and intangible qualities of this discipline that made you become so deeply connected to it, and to the pursuit of perfecting it?

“My father started paragliding shortly after I was born, and it became his all-consuming passion — eventually leading him to become a paragliding instructor. As a kid, I was in constant contact with the sport, spending all my weekends on the landing field watching my dad teach people to fly, or doing tandem flights with him starting when I was just 2.5 years old. It could have made me hate the sport or love it — I ended up loving it. I did my first ground handling session around age 6 and my first solo flight at 12.

I’ve always been a perfectionist, and I’ve always been drawn to things that require more hard work than raw talent to master — and paragliding fits that perfectly. It’s a sport that genuinely rewards the hours you put in, and I realized early on that if I trained more than the people around me, I would fly better. That’s how I ended up dedicating all my time to flying, always chasing the best pilot I could possibly be.”

At Athleta Mag, we see every sport as, in its own way, a form of art. In the case of acrobatic paragliding, this association feels especially evident. Do you experience your sport as an art form in itself? Do you feel like an artist while drawing lines and shapes across the sky, or when inventing new maneuvers?

“Acrobatic paragliding and art are deeply connected. The whole point of the sport is to create something beautiful to watch. I think most pilots come to it because they saw someone flying and thought, ‘that looks amazing, I want to try that.’ But as you progress, something interesting happens: you stop thinking about how it looks from the outside and start focusing on how it feels. Then, if you reach the competition level, your attention shifts back outward again — to the execution, the form, how it reads to the judges. It’s a fascinating journey.

As for whether I feel like an artist — rarely, honestly. I train so much that my focus is almost entirely on perfecting the movement rather than how it appears. The moments I do feel something close to art are when I’m filming. That’s when I’m genuinely thinking about a line in a particular light, or against a specific backdrop — something intentional and composed. And what’s interesting is that in those moments, the process is shared with whoever is behind the camera. So in a way, it becomes a collaboration — a shared art.”

For the Adrenaline Expeditions series, you had the opportunity to fly above the crystal-clear lakes and Alpine peaks of the Bernese Oberland. What kind of relationship do you establish with each landscape you explore from above? And what did you discover about this specific landscape while experiencing it alongside Canada Goose?

“When Canada Goose invited me to be part of the SS26 Snow Goose Adrenaline Expeditions, they offered the Bernese Oberland as the location — an area I know well, as I’d already used it for training. But since the artistic dimension was central to this project, I had to approach it with a completely different vision and focus on entirely different things, reimagining the way I fly there. I went from seeing the area purely as a training ground to seeing it as an artistic canvas, noticing things in a totally different light. It was a fascinating shift — it felt like flying somewhere new, even though I knew every corner of it. Like rediscovering a place I thought I already understood.”

With this series, Canada Goose highlights the connection between extreme disciplines and the most extraordinary, remote frontiers of nature. In your opinion, how important is it for a brand to focus its attention, both narratively and beyond, on this relationship? And what message do you hope to convey through this project?

“I think it’s amazing when brands like Canada Goose commit to doing something genuinely out of the ordinary. The combination of alpine environments and paragliding is still so uncommon in this world, and the fact that they were willing to go there — really go there — says a lot about the value of pushing people to see things they wouldn’t otherwise encounter. That element of surprise matters.

What I hope this project conveys is the beauty of both the mountains and the act of flying itself, for an audience that may never have access to either. And beyond that, I hope it shifts how people think about paragliding. It’s not a daredevil sport. It can be something impressive, even elegant — a place where athleticism and beauty meet, thousands of feet in the air.”

Going back to the very title of the series, what kinds of sensations does paragliding evoke in you? Adrenaline, as Canada Goose suggests; experiential and stylistic freedom, as you’ve described it… and what else?

“Freedom is the main sensation that flying gives me, the most overwhelming I would say, adrenaline comes next, but I would say it tends to be softer and softer as the years pass. For me today, paragliding is a way to express my freedom as well as to forget about all the little things that could happen in life, you have no troubles when you fly, your mind is so focused on that moment and so focused on doing the right things that all your troubles are kind of flying away.”

On one side, rational calculation and repetition; on the other, creative instinct. How do you maintain this balance, so crucial in your discipline, during your flights? And what role do science and materials (such as those featured in the Snow Goose campaign) play in calculating the variables and uncertainties inherent in your sport?

“I believe the more you train, the more you calculate, the more that knowledge gets absorbed into your body until it becomes instinct. Without that foundation, instinct has nothing to draw from. So, I train as much as possible, precisely for those moments when there’s no time to think.

The same logic applies to gear. To fly at your best, your mind has to be fully present — no doubts, no distractions. That’s where equipment becomes critical. If you’re cold, that sensation starts to creep into your focus. If your gear is restricting your movement, you’re thinking about it when you should be thinking about the trick. And in this sport, that’s where danger lives.”

At just 32 years old, you are a multiple-time world champion. What do these achievements represent to you and to your understanding of paragliding? And what goals do you still set for yourself and your future within this discipline?

“I think once you’ve been world champion, you’ve touched the pinnacle of your sport — and nothing ever quite matches that feeling of the first title. After a while, the titles start to accumulate, and each one individually means less. What they represent together, though, is something bigger.

For me, the goal has always been to leave a mark on the sport. Right now, I’m one win away from the all-time record — and that’s the target. Beyond that, I honestly don’t know. But what I’d love, more than anything, is for some young pilot to win their first title one day and think: ‘If I want to match him, I need to keep winning this for another ten years. That’s insane.’ That would mean something.”