Leaving Bellwald, I knew I was back in the fight — but I was walking into the longest, most mentally brutal stretch of the entire race: Bellwald to Reckingen.

The Never-Ending Section

This section doesn’t flow.
It’s a constant rhythm breaker — long, rolling climbs that sap your legs, short descents that never give you recovery. No steady pace. No chance to switch off and just move.

The fever was still there. My body felt like a furnace from the inside, but my skin was cold. I could feel the heat in my head with every heartbeat. The cramps, although slightly more manageable, kept firing without warning.

Step by step, my reaction time slowed. My mind started to spiral.


The Quit Voice

At some point, the thought hit hard: I’m done here. Not a passing doubt — a full, convincing argument in my head that it was over. I turned to Pascal and told him: “You continue without me.”

We were well inside the cut-off times. There was no real reason to stop — except my mind was screaming for a way out.

The Soup Moment

Then we reached Reckingen Aid Station.
I sat down. They handed me a hot, salty bowl of soup.

It’s crazy how something so simple can flip a switch. The heat from the soup cut through the chills. The salt steadied my head. My mind went from I’m finished to Okay… let’s just do one more aid station.

Not finish the race.
Not push through the night.
Just one more aid station.

Pain Stacks

From Reckingen onwards, it was pure survival mode. Every problem was still there, just layered:
• Fever still running hot.
• Cold deep in my hands and feet.
• Blisters rubbing raw.
• Meniscus discomfort flaring with every descent.
• Stomach tightening up.
• Lower back starting to lock.

But the “one more aid station” mindset worked. It took away the weight of the whole race and made it small enough to handle.

Blitzingen – The Call

When I reached Blitzingen, I knew it was time to make the decision.

I could have pushed on — but at what cost? My tendons and ligaments were already screaming. The fever wasn’t breaking. And I’ve learned to respect the line between pain you can push through and damage that will take you out for months.

I stopped.
Not from weakness.
From wisdom.

The race will be there next year. My body needed me to draw the line here