Last Sunday (May 25) was the big day: my first Bike & Run over the half distance (90K bike, 21.1K run) in St. Pölten/Lower Austria. Since I had never before taken part in — or even witnessed — a triathlon event of this size, Saturday was already quite an adventure. I had absolutely no idea how the transition area worked, or what to do with all the different gear bags. The first mishap happened right away while attaching my race number to the bike — there wasn’t enough space on the seat post, so I completely destroyed the number. Back to registration I went, begging on hands and knees for a new one. Once the bike was finally racked in transition, Saturday’s duties were done, and the first milestone reached.

I set my alarm for 04:30 — absolute hell for a night owl like me. Luckily, I’d been sleeping well the days before, knowing that sleep quality would drop sharply just before the event. And sure enough: terrible sleep from Friday to Saturday, and from Saturday to Sunday — let’s not even talk about it. I even took off my Garmin watch Saturday night, just to avoid seeing a sleep score in the morning that might stress me out even more.

After a proper breakfast (thank you partner hotel — totally worth it!), I prepped my race nutrition: 3 bottles (around 600ml each) of Rennsprint from Ausdauervutter, and 3 small gel flasks – 2 for the bike and 1 for the run. Why 2 on the bike? In case I lose one – high availability! At 06:00, my wife Karin and I arrived at the race site. A few minutes later, I was reunited with my bike — the longest we’ve ever been apart 😊. I pumped up the tires one last time, placed the bottles and bike computer, then double-checked my yellow run gear bag – added the gel flask – and we headed over to watch the swim start. I wanted to take in everything – who knows what next year might bring?

Once the pros were in the water, we returned to the stadium where the relay and Bike & Run participants were gathering. I had a quick chat with a friend, changed into my bike gear – and suddenly, it got cold, because we had a temperature around 8° Celsius… At 07:40, I said goodbye to my wife and joined the Bike & Run staging area – naturally in the shade. Unfortunately, we had to stay there; the technical officials wouldn’t let us move to the sunny side. Originally, our start time was scheduled for 08:15. But after some “heated discussions” with the officials (standing in near-freezing conditions), we were allowed to start early – from 08:00 in pairs every 40 seconds.

A few minutes past 08:00, I reached my bike and walked calmly to the timing mat – no stress, since that’s where the official Bike & Run timing began. I exchanged a few last words with my wife in the stands, crossed the mat (beep!), ran to the mount line, and carefully swung onto my bike, keeping a respectful 0.5m distance from the mount line.

And then – off onto the B1. I had practiced the course multiple times on Saturday to avoid getting lost (happened last year in Schönberg!). Soon I was flying down the S33 – the autobahn! Yes, we were riding on the actual highway. As I merged onto the highway, another friend passed me and we exchanged a few words. The thrill really kicked in – I’d never ridden a bike on an autobahn before (not even illegally!). With a slight downhill toward Traismauer, I was flying – I averaged 44 km/h between kilometers 5 and 15!

But at kilometer 20, I hit my first scare: my quads started hurting badly. Seriously? Only 20K in and already problems? I stayed below my power target (180–190W), and my heart rate was low – what was going on? On top of that, the windchill and morning temperatures (around 9–10°C) were freezing. I told myself: at least after the climb to Krustetten, I’ll warm up. And I did! The leg pain disappeared, and I felt much better. With the descent from Krustetten behind me, another milestone was checked off – the most dangerous downhill section was done.

We continued along the B33 through the Wachau – and it was freezing. The sun was still too low to offer any warmth between 09:00 and 09:45. I suffered! Every patch of sunshine was pure joy, and I even slowed down a bit to soak it in. Then came the next problem around kilometer 40: my bladder. I’d had about 500ml before the race and more than one bottle on the bike. What now? Peeing while riding? Not an option (quote from a friend: “That’s against human nature.”). From training, I knew that staying in the aero bars made it worse, so I sat upright for a while. The urge remained – but manageable.

Stopping wasn’t an option either – especially since after the climb to Gansbach (around km 60), I wouldn’t be using the aero bars anyway. I figured: push through the next 20km, and after Gansbach, the sun should be out, my heart rate higher, and I’d sweat more – maybe I can make it to the transition zone without a toilet stop. Worst case: there’s always the forest… The climb to Gansbach was rough – but I knew it from course recon. Around 09:50, I switched to the small chainring, and after 18 minutes of pain, I made it! I grabbed a water bottle at the aid station to switch things up and practice bottle grabs. Result: I’m not becoming a basketball player – I missed the littering zone completely.

Bladder still full – but now only 20–25K to the transition zone. I decided to tough it out. My goal was a non-stop bike leg. The last kilometers were tough due to a strong headwind. Aero position felt unsafe, so I sat up more to stay in control. And then – there it was: the sign for St. Pölten at the final descent into the roundabout. Wow! Wow! Wow! I dismounted the bike in 2:54:22 (avg. 31 km/h, 870+ meters climbing, 184W NP), carefully stepped off before the dismount line, and swung my leg over the saddle like a ballerina – didn’t want to knock over my bottles! The transition area was almost empty (around 11:00), and my whole family was cheering from the stands. I grabbed my orange bag, took a deep breath, massaged my cold feet, and chatted briefly with someone, who was working in the transition area. (Let’s not talk about my transition times…)

Once I handed off my transition bag and climbed the stairs onto the run course, I really needed that bathroom. I hoped a toilet would appear soon. Worst case, there’s forest along the Traisen river. Luckily, after 1K came the first aid station – and yes: a toilet! I grabbed the first door handle and prayed it wasn’t locked – and it opened! What a relief! The first lap went well – I was still on track for a sub-5-hour finish – but the wind picked up, and it got brutal. In the city center, barricades were flying through the air – one nearly hit my right foot – and the course tape was whipping against us. I used every aid station and still had my own gel flask.

After the first lap, my family cheered again, and I knew: next time I turn left and head for the finish. But the storm got even worse on the second lap. I completely hit the wall. I ended up walking about nine times, and some kilometers dropped below 6 or even 7 minutes. After kilometer 17, it became a near-death experience. I had to mentally battle through absurd internal monologues to keep running as much as I could and walk as little as possible.

At 05:05:17, with a run split of 2:04:18 (my slowest half marathon ever), I finally crossed the finish line – and felt like the happiest person on Earth. But with that kind of wind during the run, a sub-5 time just wasn’t in the cards – at least not for me. I placed 9th out of 19 men in the Bike & Run category – not bad at all 😊

A huge thank you to everyone who supported me over the past months – especially my coach Milli and my wife Karin, whom I probably drove completely crazy in the final weeks.

Thanks for your time,

-Klaus