Pink or white? Rain or sun? The question of all questions before the Ötztaler Cycle Marathon is always the question of the weather. This year the weather conditions were almost perfect. Not too hot and not too cold. 14 to 24 degrees from start to finish with local outliers reaching just below the 30-degree mark in the heat of St. Leonhard in South Tyrol. As befits summer in the Alps and the Ötztal Cycle Marathon, there was an increasing risk of rain during the course of the day. What would an Ötztal Cycle Marathon be without the thrill of a possible thunderstorm on the Timmelsjoch? Traditionally, I pack a rain jacket, which I then ride in and don’t put on, even if it rains heavily. Even in 2018, I rode down the descent from Kühtai with a rain jacket in my back pocket when it was only 5 degrees. Stay dry or finish soaked? That was also the question in 2024.
Sölden, 1 September 2024, 6 o’clock in the morning. The starters are already at the start line and I’m still faced with the question: pink or white? Traditionally, I wear pink ‘PUSH HARDER’ socks. The colour of the socks had also been a worthy topic of discussion the evening before. While the riders’ briefing was being broadcast live at the press dinner, heavy rain was pouring down through the streets of Sölden. White socks would have to be disposed of after the race in such a downpour and the associated dirt.
Bet on rain or take a risk? Pink or white? This year, the defiant child in me won out: it was going to be the white socks for the race. Rain or no rain. Cursing, I slipped on the white PUSH HARDER socks and my Ötztaler cycle marathon shoes, which I only wear in the race. I was running late. The reason was my son, who had noticed shortly before that his mum was no longer lying in bed next to him, so he got up and tearfully demanded that his mum get back into bed with him. On the other hand, I saved time eating that morning after my breakfast the night before had literally been ruined for me. My Weetabix, which I wanted to prepare for myself, had got feet, even though the packaging was new and unopened. Two pieces of toast with jam and an energy bar were a worthy alternative.
Fortunately, the descent to Ötz this year was unexpectedly calm. No hara-kiri action, no hectic riders, no selfies and no dangerous overtaking around me. All the riders were highly focussed and keen to arrive safely in Ötz. I’d love more of that! The lower ascent at Kühtai also went in the same manner without any crowds. It was relatively warm and I took off my wind waistcoat, which I wouldn’t need on the descent to Innsbruck either. The rapid ride downhill to Kematen was great fun. We whizzed through the village in a small group of riders. Then suddenly: a cat from the right. It was a hair’s breadth! Shortly before our group, a cat crossed the carriageway, presumably at a higher speed than we were travelling. This caused a big laugh and we were all relieved that nothing had happened. As it wasn’t a black cat: perhaps a good omen? At the Brenner Pass, a strong wind blew in our faces. Unlike my previous participations, however, I found a group in Innsbruck and more or less stayed with them until the end of the Brenner Pass. At the top of the Brenner Pass, Saki was waiting for me with bottles, bars and gels. Unfortunately, he had to pull out shortly before the race, but had agreed to cater for his friends at the Brenner Pass. Big thanks at this point!
Two weeks before the Ötztaler, I also had to worry about my participation. I had caught a virus that thwarted my planned training in preparation. Reduced volumes and intensity were the order of the day and extended my tapering unplanned. Thank goodness I no longer felt ill a few days before the race, otherwise I wouldn’t have started. However, the cold returned during the race. The citrus-flavoured gels burned my slightly sore throat. At the start of the Jaufenpass, things were still going well. Unfortunately, I felt a bit nauseous from all the gels and unlike in previous years, where I choked down my gels despite feeling sick, this year I reduced my intake, which was not without consequences. The power in my legs was suddenly missing. At first, I didn’t suspect the energy to be the cause. When I got to the top, I got off my bike ‘for little girls’ and suddenly started shaking: hypoglycaemia! Due to the brief relief during the break, the adrenalin level, which enables the body to keep the blood sugar level constant, plummeted.I popped a bar into my mouth, drank a large gulp of iso and set off downhill. The hypoglycaemia disappeared. When I arrived at the Timmelsjoch, I catered for myself again according to plan. But now the heat struck! As a ‘salty jumper’, I have great problems absorbing enough fluids and salt in the heat. Not only my socks were now white, but also the black sleeves of my jersey. The loss of salt meant that a new experience awaited me. Never before had I had cramps in my legs on the bike. But now the time had come. My thighs were closing up. I reduced the pace and rolled on. It was much cooler in the upper part of the Timmelsjoch and I pushed again. The sub-9 was within reach. The best times in the upper third and on the counter climb fell. Just in time for the ascent to the toll station, it started to rain. So there it was: hello rain. Once again, I didn’t put on a rain jacket as I had it in my saddle bag and it would have taken me time to put it on. It rained harder and harder on the descent and I was completely soaked. I was now sneaking round the bends and hairpin bends. One wrong move and you kiss the tarmac. On the straights, on the other hand, I pressed on the accelerator so hard that the water just splashed. Finally crossed the finish line in 9 hours and 48 seconds. Personal best time.
