Guys, I really tried. I practically obsessed with creating some kind of off-season atmosphere. While the algorithm was already showing me beach pictures, vacation cocktails, and, not infrequently, engagement rings, I had committed myself to another race. The 70.3 Bahrain was scheduled for early December, and I still remember the bewildered look on the face of a friend of mine when I told him about my plans. He and his son had regularly chosen the Kaiserstuhl Triathlon at the beginning of September as their season finale since they were little kids. Yes, summer sports are becoming winter sports these days. Well, depending on your perspective, or rather, your latitude.
I certainly wasn't cold in Bahrain, quite the opposite. And annoyingly, the competition itself went quite well and was, overall, very motivating in terms of future challenges. Consequently, it was difficult for me to initiate a proper off-season break, since all the working people around me were caught up in the pre-Christmas rush, and all my fellow athletes were already back at work, busy, hustling. Besides the fact that I wasn't exactly in the mood for cocktails in sub-zero temperatures, something had come up, much to the dismay of my hedonistic alter ego. My master's thesis was due, and as a result of this inconspicuous but exclamation-marked entry in my calendar, the longing for a beach vacation gave way to what I initially perceived as a very mature realization: to seek an alternative definition of a training break.
What a training break looks like | Photo: Simon Gehr
So, while I spent most of December at my desk, I quickly realized that a little early morning exercise noticeably boosted productivity there. And since my partner had to get up early anyway, I soon found myself bundled up (and shivering again) as I strolled to the swimming pool. At least the prevailing temperatures made the dip in the otherwise chilly water much more bearable. And thanks to the short days, there was absolutely no feeling of having missed out on anything. After all, the sun hadn't even risen after my workout.
Despite these circumstances, I was naturally obliged to escape my routine, at least in part. I regularly enjoy not having to adhere to rigid meal plans and adopting an almost stoic composure in this regard. And by that, I don't mean, as a student recently told me, having to forgo sweets or similar things as a professional athlete. No, the challenge lies more in always completing training sessions fully fueled and then immediately replenishing energy stores to achieve maximum recovery. Furthermore, during my off-season, I can take the time to prepare dishes that require a thorough understanding of the ingredients. So, I set out to buy the items on my shopping list—namely, unsalted peanuts, teriyaki sauce, and glass noodles—to create the prerequisites for my self-imposed goal of preparing a solid Pad Thai. I was to shell out €10.50 for this and quickly realized that I would have been better off at the Asian restaurant around the corner. My girlfriend, on the other hand, enjoyed it. At least, that's what she said. But it was probably her social conscience speaking. She knows how incapable I am of taking criticism, yet she was sitting next to me on the couch when, at the end of a training day, I received a call from my coach, who bluntly told me that a cadence of 1.07 on the bike wasn't meeting his standards. My reaction, in turn, was entirely in keeping with my generational stereotype: irritated.
Even Christmas dinner offers ample opportunity to highlight these discrepancies. We young people are not only incapable of accepting criticism, but also lazy. Although I've been trying to maintain a peaceful atmosphere at the table and have explicitly NOT mentioned that one in five German children lives in poverty, student loans are offered with double-digit interest rates, affordable housing is becoming increasingly scarce in major cities, homeownership is a utopia, while at the same time the returns on assets and labor are diverging ever further, we're arming ourselves but not investing, and on top of all this, we're being chosen as cannon fodder to fight for a nation-state that… excuse me, I'm digressing.
Training as you please in the off-season | Photo: Simon Gehr
Well, aside from the occasional moment when I had to bite my lip, I also enjoyed not having to follow a tightly scheduled training plan during the Christmas festivities. And sometimes, I could just lounge around on the couch with my family, digesting lunch, instead of sneaking off to the local swimming pool in the middle of the night as usual. My smartphone, however, didn't do my restless spirit any favors. Because the algorithm is aware of my malaise.
The period between Christmas and New Year's regularly makes me tempted to tackle large projects for which I don't actually have time. Generally speaking, there's certainly nothing wrong with starting the new year with renewed energy, fresh ideas, and a good dose of inspiration. Recently, however, I felt a great deal of restlessness and with it the urgent feeling that I finally had to take action. The images and videos that bombarded me not only led to a steadily growing dissatisfaction with my status quo but also once again demonstrated the sheer power of social media. Young men, in particular, seem receptive to content related to personal development. These same men are also four times more likely to commit suicide, three times more likely to abuse drugs, and ten times more likely to end up behind bars than their female peers. Structurally, young men in 2024 are also worse off than adolescent women, which also explains why the latter so often vote for right-wing parties.
The market for coaches who advise other coaches on how they, in turn, can support other coaches in coaching other coaches is booming. And my malaise comes to an end when I realize that these internet people ultimately just want to sell me yet another framework or help me with the storytelling on my website. The idea of starting my own YouTube channel, however, has been nagging at me for a while. I've been told several times that I have the necessary qualities. But while I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment, I value my private life and like to think I'm already quite progressive in how I communicate across various platforms.
With my YouTube channel, I think to myself in my philanthropic arrogance, I could offer my audience significantly more. That way, I could actually do something FOR society, instead of training away in my quiet little room day in and day out. I could, for example, point out that the contribution assessment ceiling should be reformed and that raising the minimum wage demonstrably leads to economic growth. Sure, I wouldn't have a product to promote, and unfortunately, I also wouldn't have any partners willing or able to support such a project. But what isn't, can still happen, right?
"Join my team now!" I read on the homepage of a professional triathlete friend. It's as if a Siemens executive has nothing better to do than spend all day clicking through websites, only to think: "Yes, exactly, we'd love to have him on board, let's support him from now on." Because, as someone deeply involved in the scene, I know very few athletes who can genuinely claim to make a living from competitive sports, this unrealistic hope remains the norm. Unfortunately, resources in professional sports are very unevenly distributed, and the constant reference to the progress of triathlon itself, analogous to the perpetual debate about generations, merely masks inequalities within the system.
Dream job: professional triathlete? | Photo: Simon Gehr
As one gets older, especially if one finds oneself in the privileged position of having discovered a niche and earning an income from it, it's natural to develop a greater affinity for liberal ideas. "Anyone can make it," these people then preach online. And athletes do the same, quite naturally, by filming themselves during grueling training sessions or adding motivational commentary to competition footage. Sport is generally considered a prime example of equal opportunity and the idea of being responsible for one's own success (and indeed, failure). While we all love the rags-to-riches stories of the American Dream and yearn for the former promise that hard work leads to prosperity, even the meritocratic model of competitive sports is not without its flaws. One thing, however, we must always keep in mind: Yes, anyone can make it. But not everyone.
Because capitalism thrives on consumer imperfection, social media does everything in its power to make us chronically dissatisfied. The constant assertion that everyone is the architect of their own happiness unleashes a wave of marginalized individuals, endangering not only our social cohesion but also the well-being of the next generation. Internal Facebook studies indicate that the platform exacerbates body dissatisfaction and, consequently, suicidal thoughts in about a third of the girls surveyed. It's the smartphones, kids.
