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Like every day, I woke up at six in the morning, although today is a special day. I am painting an artwork that I will give to my daughter on her next birthday. I draw swimmers, and paint their bodies as seen from a very high cliff and there is always one swimmer of the group that clearly goes against the grain. While I'm painting, I don't know which one of them will take another direction and that's what makes this moment magical, that I never know when it's going to happen. When someone looks at one of the artworks in my “Swimmers†collection, they start looking for which swimmer is going the opposite way. Some say they feel like children looking for where Waldo is. However, for my daughter it seems to be something more transcendent when she asks me: Daddy, who is wrong? The lonely swimmer or the rest? For me, that many times I have taken the path that was expected of me, and many times not, this is not an easy answer. When I decided to study marketing instead of what a felt real passion for, who was wrong? When I kept running despite my backaches, who was wrong? After being diagnosed with two herniated discs, the doctors told me that I was strictly forbidden to run or ride a bicycle. If I had adhered to their advice, I would never have participated in an Ironman. And believe me that for someone who weighed almost 100 kilos, it was something "astronautic" to become finisher in such a competition. I get goosebumps remembering how I crossed the finish line hand in hand with my daughter. No doubt that this experience raised my level of confidence to a point I would never have imagined and yet, the days after meeting the challenge, I began to feel a deep emptiness inside me. What challenge could live up to what for me had been one of the great feats of my life? I was 42 years old and felt the need to analyse the decisions I had taken so far. Who could te...