Two photos define André Schürrle’s life now. In one, he’s holding the World Cup trophy, 23 years old and grinning. In the other, he’s standing on a frozen mountain in shorts, his face red from wind, looking like he’s testing something.
That second photo is what he chose after walking away from the first.
Schürrle was part of the Germany squad that won the 2014 World Cup in Brazil. He scored three goals in the tournament and sent in the cross for Mario Götze’s winning goal in the final. His career touched Chelsea, Wolfsburg, Dortmund. Then in 2020, at 29, he retired. His explanation was direct: “I no longer need the applause. The depths became deeper and the highlights less and less.”
What he did next started small. He learned to control his breathing. He stepped into cold water and stayed there. He paid attention to what his body told him. The Wim Hof Method gave him structure—the kind of quiet he couldn’t find in packed stadiums. “You always have to play a certain role in order to survive in the business,” he said about football. “Otherwise you will lose your job and you will not get a new one.”
Last winter he climbed Śnieżka, a 1,603-meter peak on the Czech border. They went as a group with instructors, carried extra layers in case things went bad. Things went bad. He posted about it later: “An experience that I will never forget! -19 degrees, 100 km/h wind in our faces, heavy snow and rain! What I learned…My body and I are stronger than I thought.”
The cold isn’t a gimmick for him. It’s a practice built on three things: controlled breathing, gradual exposure to stress, and focus that holds when your body is screaming at you to get warm. The point isn’t suffering. The point is noticing when you want to quit, then making a choice.
He runs marathons now. He completed a mountain ultratrail in Tuscany. He did an Everesting challenge—stacking vertical meters until you hit the height of Everest. In Italy he summited Gran Paradiso at 4,061 meters. His posts about these climbs talk more about gratitude than achievement.
The format that fits his brain best seems to be the backyard ultra. This fall he helped launch the Last Soul Ultra in Germany. The rules are brutal in their simplicity: run a 6.706-kilometer loop every hour until only one person is left standing. There’s no finish line. The race ends when everyone except one person decides they’re done.
People react to all this in predictable ways. Some see someone who found a healthier definition of success. Others ask why a father climbs mountains in blizzards without a shirt. Schürrle doesn’t argue back. He just keeps posting the work. Early alarms. Ice baths that still suck. Long days outside. If it’s for show, it’s a very long show.
His assist in the 2014 World Cup final is part of Germany’s modern history now. That won’t change. What’s changed is how he keeps score. Finishing a loop, reaching a summit, staying in ice water a little longer—they all count the same to him now. He’s measuring something different than goals and trophies.
Those two photographs still follow him around. One belongs to German football history. The other belongs to someone who decided to get uncomfortable on purpose. He tried being the person football needed him to be. Now he’s using mountains and cold water to figure out who he actually is.
