Switzerland’s climbs did not just test my legs. They tested my patience, my endurance, and my ability to embrace suffering. Every meter felt like a battle, every incline a force demanding more than I wanted to give. A three-kilometer hill with an eight percent grade utterly drained my already depleted energy reserves long before the ride should have taken its toll. The burn set in early, the muscles protested, and for the first time in a while, I had to pause. Even in a virtual world, the strain felt real. The climb was relentless, and reaching the top felt less like triumph and more like survival.
The descents should have brought relief, but they came too fast, the effort too easily undone. There was no time to settle into a rhythm, no steady push to reclaim lost wattage. The road rushed past in a blur, a reminder every climb takes but does not always give back. Not every ride is about enjoyment. Some rides exist to remind the body of its limits, to reveal weaknesses, and to test the mind’s willingness to endure. This was definitely one of those rides.
Yet, despite the suffering, I would not change it. The pain was real, but so was the growth. Shorter, harder efforts bring a different kind of satisfaction, a different level of intensity. Progress does not come from comfort, and neither does strength. The ride left me exhausted, but it also left me stronger.
The road never waits, and neither will I. The rest of the week brings additional tests, additional climbs, additional reasons to push further.
