There are few things where my perception and the actual reality diverge as much as with the word "offseason".
Especially towards the end of the season, I imagine it in my mind in the most wonderful, vivid colors: Finally, a few weeks of nothing but la dolce vita. Living each day as I please. Consuming delicious food and drinks. In enormous portions. Sleeping. Lots of sleeping. And doing all the other wonderful things you simply don't usually have time for:
Dolce Vita | Photo: Marcel Hilger
Losing the day in cafes over three (or four?) flat whites. Staying up all night fueled by cold drinks. Finally visiting Grandma again. And most importantly: meeting up with friends you otherwise never see because they don't own a racing bike to conveniently combine get-togethers with a workout, unfortunately don't share the passion for running for miles, and generally don't frequent swimming pools to count tiles.
Shall I tell you how many of the aforementioned plans were implemented during my offseason?
You guessed right.
I am currently sitting in an apartment that is crammed full of unpacked boxes up to the ceiling and is waiting to be transformed from a mattress warehouse with poor lighting into a homely place (I have unfortunately forgotten the magic spell for this).
For the first time in three weeks, I managed not only to fill a washing machine that was connected according to the instructions, but also to arrange the contents on a clothes drying rack whose metal feet touched the floor and, to my great surprise, could also be folded out on both sides. It's the little things in life.
In a hurry! | Photo: Marcel Hilger
My internet provider throws a small party every time I order additional data at exorbitant prices. The Telekom technician arrived on time to activate the DSL connection, but the room containing the necessary distribution point was inaccessible, and the building manager, who had the key, had vanished since I moved in and couldn't be reached by phone.
My diet has consisted of copious amounts of delivery pizza and toast for quite some time now. I haven't walked a single step in over two weeks. Perhaps lugging boxes could be considered strength training. However, given that I'm currently suffering from back, neck, knee, and shoulder pain, my training goal has been somewhat missed.
I had actually planned to return to my training routine completely refreshed. In my mind, after my last race at the end of October, I would have quickly finished a small job in Frankfurt and then started the move in a completely relaxed manner. With a few friends gathered together (yes, the ones without racing bikes), it always works like a charm. All the boxes would practically arrange themselves on the already assembled shelves, which would have fit perfectly in the new apartment, just like in the old one. That was my theory, anyway.
Moving as a challenging experience | Photo: Marcel Hilger
In practice, our painstakingly assembled and carefully selected moving team suffered significant losses even before the move began – thanks to a wave of illness and a Bayern Munich football match, yes, you heard right. In the end, even the core group began to crumble: My father-in-law was in bed with a fever after a hard day's work, and my fiancé soon joined him with a slipped disc. The planned vehicles were woefully inadequate for our modest two-person, seven-bicycle household. The impressive wardrobe, painstakingly dismantled, didn't fit into its designated niche and is now stored in my in-laws' basement along with the ailing members of the moving crew. To top it all off, I personally failed to meet my tax return deadline and my job in Frankfurt, and in one case, I'm several years behind schedule. This means I'm not only facing an ever-approaching deadline, but also the tax office breathing down my neck. Anything else?
Of course: To make matters worse, I've managed to lose my wallet and currently have neither identification nor suitable means of payment. In short – business as usual. I stumbled through the off-season just like I did this year. And next year, with the planned wedding, will certainly be no less relaxed. Except that I'll hopefully look a bit better than I do right now with my unwashed hair, stained leggings, and the dark blue sweater emblazoned with "German Road Running Championship 2017." That would be the most athletic thing about me. And I feel about as fit as if my last workout was ages ago.
Relaxed, lighthearted, and playful: a rare treat in the offseason | Photo: Damien Rosso
I don't know how other people manage not to feel like they need an offseason from the offseason at the end of their season. But to everyone for whom this applies, I want to offer my heartfelt congratulations (with undeniable envy in my voice), and to everyone for whom this doesn't apply, I want to say with even more sympathy and solidarity: You are damn well not alone.
I'll be so relieved when this time of year is over and structured training and its associated routine resume. The only comforting thought I can think of right now is the prospect that this miserable situation is only temporary.
Actually, the off-season isn't about cramming all the good things you missed out on during the rest of the year into just a few weeks. It's much better to make sure you don't neglect relaxation, enjoyment, and the things that bring you joy, even during the season.
We don't have to cram in and compulsively indulge in everything we usually scrimp and save for within a limited time each year. In fact, prohibitions and deprivations during the season are counterproductive: when you truly enjoy something, it gives you positive energy. A little bit of that here and there boosts motivation, making everyday life and training much easier.
The air is out of the balloon, but only in a figurative sense | Photo: Marcel Hilger
Let's be honest: two weeks of burgers, kebabs, fries (or whatever else you fancy) straight sounds tempting, but in the long run, it's probably less good for us than treating ourselves to something nice every now and then. Until then, I'm facing my latest challenge: registering my new address, even though my wallet still hasn't turned up and I can't prove my identity, and my passport, which is usually so helpful in situations like this, unfortunately expired three years ago.
Damn it, how easy are a few sweet VO2max intervals followed by a run in between? How fresh is your mind afterwards, and how small does the everyday madness that bombards us suddenly seem?
I'm really longing to get back to training sessions. One after the other, and finally be able to switch off again. For example, from all the paperwork I should have handed in at my tax office the day before yesterday, which is still buried, unpacked, under the mountain of boxes around me. This realization is ultimately the best reason why there's such a thing as an offseason. And so, I hereby declare: mission accomplished. Time to get going again. I'm ready to go.
