A film about running in the mountains that opens with a river may seem odd.

But a river is precisely the way mountains release themselves — their collapsing landslides and hanging, glittering ice caps — toward the sea.

Flowing past Tiger Leaping Gorge and through Wuhan, the Yangtze River runs through many chapters of Xiao Shuang's life, just as her life rises and falls within the river's winding, dreamlike course.

I first met Xiao Shuang at UTMB in late summer 2023.

At the time I was mainly filming "Wa/ondering", a film about Yao Miao. In the dark hours before dawn I filmed Xiao Shuang finishing the CCC. I didn't yet know what I had actually captured.

For an uninjured professional athlete it wasn't a standout result. But for Xiao Shuang, that finish and the clock had nothing to do with its meaning.

Image source: the documentary

The following year, I finally had the chance to get to know Xiao Shuang in the best way: by running.

When Salomon sent me to their international team training camp in July, to go with Xiao Shuang and Zhang Huohua, I was also preparing for the OCC. So that week, Xiao Shuang and I ran a 40-kilometer long run together in the French Alps.

Unfortunately, there was a small complication: the day before I had already run with Huohua.

As a result, aside from having my pride bruised the day before, worse was that I didn't sleep at all. My roommate slept soundly, snoring like thunder, while my quadriceps had already become like rotten grape jelly, burning overnight.

That morning when Xiao Shuang and I set off, a deep fear burrowed into my soul like an alpine marmot.

Forty kilometers felt like 400. But (as all runners know) good conversation and the right amount of looming thunder can make the kilometers pass faster. It was the first time I began to admire Xiao Shuang's kind of reckless, present-moment passion.

Despite never finding any of the scheduled aid stations — hungry and thirsty with thunder rumbling overhead — that run ultimately became one of the most unforgettable experiences of my year.

Originally, the film was only intended to be fifteen minutes. But as I learned more about Xiao Shuang's story and her love for sport, nature, and the community around her, I increasingly felt it needed more time.

Of course, half an hour is also far from enough. But I hope you can find what you need in this brief glimpse.

Some moments I shared with Xiao Shuang didn't make it into the film, but they remain in the background:

She cooked selflessly for the whole Salomon team in Chamonix, camped at 3,600 meters just to shoot a sunrise shot, and showed care and attention to every stranger who wanted to be active. I'm afraid most people will miss this.

But in the film's title scene, when the words "The World Is Too Big" appear, Xiao Shuang is actually running through the background, crossing the Yangtze, beneath the ice cap of Jade Dragon Snow Mountain.

I think this is the meaning of the film: a person who keeps moving forward never demands to occupy the whole frame; dedicating their life to that vast, endless process of becoming a better self.

This is a film about a friend and, in a way, a hero in my heart. It's about resilience and joy: the joy of nature, the joy of the mountains, the greatest gift's joy — this one life — and the courage to cast everything aside and run toward the unknown.

Of course, with that relentless, indomitable vitality in living and loving, you are bound to achieve some victories along life's path.