Challenge Accepted!

Oh, what a fortnight it’s been since the Sertig Classic! With the Maloja-Zernez race looming, a 56 km behemoth shadowed by the promise of an even more daunting Engadin Ski Marathon, I was all geared up. But Mother Nature had her own plans, burying the Engadin Valley under a mountain of snow, and turning our race track into a wintry quagmire. The verdict? A shortened 49 km race, Sils to Zernez, amidst a snowstorm that seemed hell-bent on testing my mettle.

Imagine this: there I was, initiating the race with the gusto of a starved polar bear chasing a snowmobile, only to realize my fuel gauge was flirting dangerously with empty. Note to self: devouring a meager breakfast while chauffeuring to the start line isn’t the wisest pre-race strategy. Combine that with a caloric deficit from my ongoing „fighting weight“ saga, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for a mid-race crisis.

Thirty-five kilometers in, my energy stores waved the white flag. Yet, the stubborn mule in me decided to tackle the remaining kilometres, transforming each uphill slog into a Herculean feat. Spoiler alert: I survived, but not without questioning my life choices, particularly my overly enthusiastic start.

Post-race recovery was a whirlwind of caloric replenishment and family time, diving into the thermal bliss of Scuol’s pools, and hitting the slopes, where, in a humbling turn of events, my eight-year-old son zipped past me, leaving his old man’s pride slightly bruised but mostly amused.

The week mellowed down to some laid-back cross-country skiing, interspersed with poolside antics and a skiing day that was blissfully uninterrupted by existential crises or caloric conundrums. Meanwhile, my geeky side project hit yet another snag, reminding me that the road to perfection is paved with flawed wiring.

And just when I thought I’d caught a break, my bike mechanic delivered the doomsday diagnosis: my trusty steed, battered from a feline-fueled fiasco, was now a structural hazard. With the Zurich Marathon on the horizon and my budget crying uncle, it’s back to the drawing board, juggling safety, finances, and training, all while nursing legs that are still reminiscing over the Lägeren jog.

So here I am, riding the rollercoaster of pre-marathon prep, where every day is an adventure, every challenge a story, and every setback a step towards that elusive starting line. Buckle up, folks – it’s going to be a wild ride to T-0!