1/11/26
CROSS IS BACK
For me, the first cyclocross race of the season is always the best one. It’s still warm enough to race in shorts, the dirt is back under the tyres, and you show up a little underprepared, rarely in the kind of shape you’d hoped to be in. Cyclocross has its own way of bringing you back down to earth. It doesn’t cut anyone any slack, and it usually takes about 500 metres to remind you why. You’re already redlining, heart in your throat, wondering why you signed up for this again. The good thing is, a race is long enough to find your legs again. Or to completely fall apart. Often both, within the same lap.
This year, the season kicked off in Zossen, just south of Berlin. We drove down in the van, bikes loaded in the back, following a routine that by now feels pretty familiar. Autumn was already showing up in the colours and in the air, even if the temperature was still kind enough to keep the sleeves short. We picked up our race numbers, pulled on our bibs and started rolling around the course, trying to get a feel for what was waiting for us.
Marco, Robert and I were there to race, with Stefano and Andrea backing us up from the sidelines. After the junior races and the women’s race, it was our turn. The wait slipped by between course recon laps, until the announcer started calling our names. We found ourselves on the second row, surrounded by fired-up kids who were clearly in much better shape than us. At that point, it was pretty obvious that we were in for another rough one.
The flag dropped and everyone went full gas. Despite the rain the night before, the course was surprisingly dry and fast. Not many places to catch your breath, a few tight corners to negotiate, and the constant feeling that your legs were being asked for more than they had to give. That’s cyclocross, too: finding a rhythm in the chaos, learning to sit with the discomfort and trying to keep your head in the game for as long as possible.
Six laps later, it was done. Myself, Robert and Marco crossed the line in that order, with plenty of other crossers ahead of us. We didn’t make much of a statement on the results sheet, but that wasn’t really the point. Early-season racing is also about figuring out where you’re at, getting those sensations back and finding your way around 33 mm tyres again. The rest can wait. For now, there was enough to take home: a few hard laps in the legs, some fatigue to carry around and another reminder that cross doesn’t do handouts. Ever.
With the racing behind us, we squeezed in one last coffee before heading back, humming the tune that had been stuck with us for most of the race: the Sportpalastwalzer. Then we loaded everything into the van and drove back to Berlin.
Zossen didn’t go easy on us, just as expected. Still, we came back smiling. For the first race of the season, maybe that’s enough.
Zossen, 2026 — Photos by Stefano Zotti.
1/11/26
CROSS IS BACK
For me, the first cyclocross race of the season is always the best one. It’s still warm enough to race in shorts, the dirt is back under the tyres, and you show up a little underprepared, rarely in the kind of shape you’d hoped to be in. Cyclocross has its own way of bringing you back down to earth. It doesn’t cut anyone any slack, and it usually takes about 500 metres to remind you why. You’re already redlining, heart in your throat, wondering why you signed up for this again. The good thing is, a race is long enough to find your legs again. Or to completely fall apart. Often both, within the same lap.
This year, the season kicked off in Zossen, just south of Berlin. We drove down in the van, bikes loaded in the back, following a routine that by now feels pretty familiar. Autumn was already showing up in the colours and in the air, even if the temperature was still kind enough to keep the sleeves short. We picked up our race numbers, pulled on our bibs and started rolling around the course, trying to get a feel for what was waiting for us.
Marco, Robert and I were there to race, with Stefano and Andrea backing us up from the sidelines. After the junior races and the women’s race, it was our turn. The wait slipped by between course recon laps, until the announcer started calling our names. We found ourselves on the second row, surrounded by fired-up kids who were clearly in much better shape than us. At that point, it was pretty obvious that we were in for another rough one.
The flag dropped and everyone went full gas. Despite the rain the night before, the course was surprisingly dry and fast. Not many places to catch your breath, a few tight corners to negotiate, and the constant feeling that your legs were being asked for more than they had to give. That’s cyclocross, too: finding a rhythm in the chaos, learning to sit with the discomfort and trying to keep your head in the game for as long as possible.
Six laps later, it was done. Myself, Robert and Marco crossed the line in that order, with plenty of other crossers ahead of us. We didn’t make much of a statement on the results sheet, but that wasn’t really the point. Early-season racing is also about figuring out where you’re at, getting those sensations back and finding your way around 33 mm tyres again. The rest can wait. For now, there was enough to take home: a few hard laps in the legs, some fatigue to carry around and another reminder that cross doesn’t do handouts. Ever.
With the racing behind us, we squeezed in one last coffee before heading back, humming the tune that had been stuck with us for most of the race: the Sportpalastwalzer. Then we loaded everything into the van and drove back to Berlin.
Zossen didn’t go easy on us, just as expected. Still, we came back smiling. For the first race of the season, maybe that’s enough.
Zossen, 2026 — Photos by Stefano Zotti.