Prologue
This is my admittedly overly long report on the 2025 Vätternrundan – the 60th edition, which I took part in shortly after my 60th birthday.
I hope this text will inspire cycling enthusiasts who enjoy reading to take part. The Vätternrundan is something very special, very fascinating.
If you are interested in participating, I hope this article can answer some of your questions.
If you have already participated, what were your impressions and experiences? Please comment. The other readers would be happy to hear more than just my perspective.
The longer videos in this article are hosted on Instagram. Unfortunately, you can only view them if you have an Instagram profile. If you do, I am delighted if you would follow my channel there. My videos are in German language but they still can give you an impression of what you expect.
I am also happy if you shared this article on social media, for example on Facebook. How does the saying go? „Sharing is caring.“ Thank you very much!
By the way: This article was originally published in German on cyclingclaude.de.
Thank you in advance for reading, commenting, sharing…
Oh, and by the way: you can find the official Vätterrundan website here.
The magic of numbers
Sometimes things in life fit together so perfectly that you almost want to believe in fate. In June 2025, I turned 60. A few days later, the 60th edition of the Vätternrundan was coming up. And me? I was participating for the 13th time – if you count the 2020 Corona home round, in which Oliver, Florian, and I cycled in Germany from Langenlonsheim, where we grew up, to Kleinblittersdorf and back, instead of around Lake Vättern.
„The 60th Race,“ as the organizers call their anniversary. My „Project 60,“ as I’ve been calling it since 2023. Because when I realized back then that Kieser Training was actually helping my broken back, I made a plan: I have to be there in 2025. The numbers were too perfect to let them pass me by.
From rookie to old hand – my Vätternrundan story
In 2010, I sat in the saddle for the first time to cycle the then 300 kilometers around Sweden’s second-largest lake. It took me over 14.5 hours, I stopped at eight of the nine refreshment stations (depots) and asked myself more than once why on earth I was doing this to myself. The answer came at the finish line in Motala, if not before: this feeling, this atmosphere, this crazy mixture of agony and bliss – it’s fascinating and addictive.
Year after year, I got faster, got to know the route, and found my rhythm. In 2014, at the age of 49, I broke the 10-hour mark for the first time in the 49th edition. In 2015, at the age of 50, I took part in the 50th edition – another perfect coincidence. And then in 2019: my personal best time for 300 km: 8 hours and 36 minutes gross. At 54, I was fitter than ever before.
The crack – in the truest sense of the word
Two months later, I was lying on the tarmac. A car had cut me off on my way home from work. Broken thoracic vertebrae. Two surgeries, titanium rods, screws (fixateur interne). What remained: a 38-degree kyphosis – a crooked back that hurts when I sit, stand, lie down for too long – or even ride a bike. Looking sideways on the bike? Forget it. Looking over my shoulder? Only possible to a limited extent.
In 2020, the Vätternrundan had to be ridden „at home“ due to coronavirus restrictions on movement. The country borders were closed. I managed to complete the ride – with great difficulty, as I wrote at the time, still with the titanium in my back.
The actual curvature from 28° to 38° and my long ordeal followed after the metal was removed in December 2020.
In 2021, I didn’t believe I would ever be able to cycle long distances again. It wasn’t until 2023, after an incredible amount of core and strength training, that I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. At that point, I decided to return to the 60th Vätternrundan in 2025.
But in 2024, I made a spontaneous return to Sweden. It was unplanned. A reader of my blog was unable to start at short notice, and in a moment of exuberance, I took his place. I was poorly trained and in pain, but damn it: I was back in Motala. It was the 59th edition—an unplanned dress rehearsal for my Project 60.
Project 60 – when your body has other plans
The preparation for 2025 was supposed to be different. Better. More structured. But instead, it turned into a special kind of obstacle course.
January 2025: I could barely keep my eyes open at work during the day. Every meeting became torture, every afternoon an ordeal. Training was out of the question – after work, I just collapsed on the sofa.
February 2025: The diagnosis was sleep apnea. At night, I kept stopping breathing without realizing it. The sleep analysis showed that I wasn’t breathing for more than 8 minutes per hour. Crazy. My body wasn’t getting enough oxygen and could never recover properly. Since then, I’ve been sleeping with a CPAP machine—one of those things with a mask and a tube, like Darth Vader in retirement. It’s not sexy, but hey, at least I can finally sleep through the night again! Without the diagnosis and CPAP prescription, I probably wouldn’t have been able to complete Project 60.
But February had even more in store: bronchial asthma. My bronchial tubes were only opening up 80%. A late effect of COVID? Imagine breathing through a straw – that’s how every training ride felt. Since then, I’ve been taking Foster spray with cortisone twice a day and salbutamol when needed. In March, my lung capacity was back to 100%, but now it’s hovering around 88%. Not great either!
And cortisone? It makes you fat. Sure, beer and good food do the rest, but in combination it’s fatal. „Competition weight“ was only possible to a limited extent. In Mallorca my weight was still ok (see below). But my body changed since then.
The preparation – despite everything
Three weeks in Mallorca in April. Nice! Not in the Tramuntana mountains, but long, undulating routes for basic endurance. Several times between 150 and 170 km per training day, mostly over 120, always over 100 km. Mountains are not suitable for long-distance training – uphill you are in the high training zone for too long, downhill you just let it roll. The Vätternrundan requires different qualities: long, medium-intensity with intervals as peak loads. This has a lasting effect.
Of course, I met Swedish cyclists again. A woman I had talked to at length during a break in Mallorca recognized me later in Motala. It’s a small world.
On the penultimate day at Playa de Palma, I got a tattoo. On the outside of my left calf: the Vätternrundan logo and the 315 km, underneath the number 60 in a circle, based on the official anniversary logo, but for my upcoming birthday. A visible promise that I will complete my 13th Vätternrundan. No matter what.
Tattoos are cheaper in Mallorca than in Germany. Klaus, a reader of my blog, had often had tattoos done in Mallorca and advised me to contact Isla Tattoo (on Instagram @islatattoo_mallorca). Jorge, the owner, delivers top quality.
Back in Germany, two 200 kilometer laps around Frankfurt followed in May. Partly on gravel, because… why not add an extra challenge? The preparation was far from ideal, but it was there. Somehow.
The invisible struggles
What you don’t see on the bike: the countless hours at Kieser Training in Offenbach. For years. Twice a week. Strength training. Core stability. Back muscles. Without the training, I wouldn’t be able to sit on the bike for three hours, let alone ride 315 kilometers.
The nights with the CPAP mask. The morning and evening ritual with the cortisone spray. The emergency dose of salbutamol in my jersey pocket. The ibuprofen for my back… or the Reflex spray that I always bring back from Mallorca because it’s not approved in Germany.
It has become a complicated deal with my body. I give it medication, strength training, and breathing aids—and in return, it lets me cycle around Lake Vättern once a year. It’s not ideal, but it’s doable. And that has to be enough.
The journey – a road trip with obstacles
Unlike in 2024, when I spontaneously set off for Sweden alone, this time Luisa, my wife, accompanied me. In May 2024, I had bought a new mini caravan as a „rolling home office“: a Trigano Freestyle Mini 290 with a bed area of 1.90 x 1.40 meters – perfect for an athlete plus companion. It’s small, maneuverable, and has everything you need. Not a rolling palace, but my rolling home.
We actually wanted to be in Sweden the weekend before the main event. I would have liked to see the whole range: Half Vättern, women’s Vättern, MTB Vättern, mini Vättern, and e-bike Vättern. On Sunday, June 8, I could have celebrated my 60th birthday in Motala. But it was also my mother’s birthday – her 85th. That takes priority. Family first, Vättern second.
So Luisa and I didn’t set off until 10 p.m. on Sunday evening. With us: the mini caravan, the Canyon Endurace CFR in the trunk of the car, and our two Vello Bike+ folding bikes. Luckily, we have a big car. We were full of anticipation. A short night at a rest stop near Kassel – that’s what the little caravan is made for. Just stop, sleep, drive on.
On Whit Monday, we continued on to Rostock. In the afternoon, the Stena Line* ferry was waiting for us. Six hours across the Baltic Sea to Trelleborg – time to take a deep breath, arrive and switch from Germany to Sweden.
Sweden welcomes us – Nordic chilled
In the early evening, we rolled off the ferry in Trelleborg. It was still a good 400 kilometers to Motala. Theoretically, that would be feasible in five hours. In practice? We were tired, it was getting dark, and we looked for a place to spend the night somewhere along the highway. Next to the trucks, some with their refrigeration units running… it wasn’t exactly quiet. But we managed to sleep anyway. The tiny caravan proved its worth once again.
Tuesday morning. The weather was typically Swedish: cold, windy, and rainy. Welcome to Scandinavia! However, when we arrived in Motala at noon, the rain had stopped. A good sign? Z-Parken camping welcomed us like an old friend. Since 2010, this campsite on the grounds of the BK Zeros soccer club has been my base camp.
Big advantage: Z-Parken is only 100 meters from Varamon Beach, Sweden’s longest sandy beach and, as far as I know, the longest beach at a lake in Europe.
The Vätternrundan friends
What makes Z-Park so special is not only its convenient location close to the city and as a starting and finishing point. It’s the people. Since 2011, I have been meeting my „Vätternrundan friends“ here, i.e. the family and friends of Horst, the former sports and math teacher from Göhren on Rügen, who sadly passed away last year.
I liked Horst very much and looked forward to seeing him and his humorous nature every year. Even though I only saw him once a year, he had grown very dear to my heart. I always think of him now when I cycle around the lake. Not just this year.
The reunion with the people from Rügen is like a family gathering every year. We know each other, we look forward to seeing each other, we share the same passion—and the same craziness of cycling 315 kilometers around a lake once a year. Everyone has the same goal… to quote Horst: „The main thing is to get around“—around the lake, of course.
What’s special about the Vätternrundan
The Vätternrundan is not a stage race. You ride the entire 315 kilometers in one go. There are refreshment stations, known as depots, where you can get food and drinks as well as massages, medical care, and technical assistance if you need it, but the race is still a big challenge. Giving up? DNF? You don’t do that. Unless your body completely surrenders.
Before the pandemic, the event was bursting at the seams with 20,000 registrations, which was the absolute capacity limit. After Corona, there are still around 15,000 – an enormous crowd that sets off on Friday night and continues into Saturday morning. Participants are allowed onto the course in blocks. A block starts every two minutes, throughout the night.
Those who start early, i.e., before around 10 p.m., can enjoy both the sunset and the sunrise. The sunset in the north lasts forever, and when the sun rises again in the very early hours of the morning, it is a magical moment. In good weather, that is. In wind and rain, this highlight is unfortunately clouded.
From 3 a.m. onwards, no lighting is required on the bike, because the Swedish summer night is short and it gets light again early, long before you see the sun for the first time.
The living legend
Speaking of tradition: Stig Larsson, known as „Lappen,“ is the last remaining veteran. Veterans are participants who have been there every year since the first Vätternrundan in 1966. Stig still rides his old 2-speed Husqvarna bike, which he has always had. Jeans, wool gloves, wool scarf – his equipment has hardly changed. In the wicker basket on the handlebars are a radio and food.
Seeing Stig on the route is like traveling back in time. He embodies the original spirit of the Vätternrundan: it’s not about carbon and high-tech, but about arriving or getting around. Year after year. For 60 years.
This instagram video shows Stig 2024, when he was 79.
The art of choosing the right pace group
After 13 participations, I know that if you want to ride fast, it’s best to start at / after 3 a.m. Then you don’t need lights and can join faster groups.
The problem with start times between around 7:30 p.m. and 9 p.m. is that large, fast groups tend to be the exception. These only form after 10 p.m. when there are already many people on the road. But even then, the golden rule applies: never ride at your desired speed if you’re hoping to find a suitable group! Logically, such groups will not overtake you.
The tactic is to ride one to two km/h below your desired average speed, wait until a group overtakes you, hook up with them, and see if the pace suits you. Is the group too fast? Then drop back, reduce your speed further, and wait for the next group. The biggest mistake in a long-distance race is overpacing. An hour with a group that is only slightly faster than you can manage will wear you out. Then the remaining 100 or 200 kilometers will be hell.
But me? I don’t ride in groups anymore. Even before, I wasn’t a fan of large groups at such events and since my accident, it has become virtually impossible. Looking over my shoulder? No chance. Looking behind me? Not at all. Riding in a group without keeping an eye on the other riders? Dangerous!
So I ride alone. I already rode the Vätternrundan solo in 2024. 2025 should be no different. That makes it harder, of course – no slipstream and no mental support from the group. But it’s safer. And to be honest, it fits my story. Anyone who rides 315 kilometers with a bad back, asthma, and at the age of 60 does it their own way anyway.
My oppinion; It’s this mixture of mass event and personal challenge, of tactics and stamina, that makes the Vätternrundan what it is.
The battle in your head
To get around the lake once, you need to be in good shape. Sure. But a lot of it is in your head. After 13 participations, I’ve developed my strategies.
From the southern tip of the lake, near Jönköping, I mentally swing from ten-kilometer sign to ten-kilometer sign. I am talking about yellow, square signs with the Vätternrundan logo and the number of kilometers still to go. In the past, on the 300-kilometer route, the first sign was 290, then 280, 270… And how is it on the new 315-kilometer route? I have no idea if there is now a 310 and a 300 sign. I didn’t pay attention to that last year or this year. But from Jönköping, from 200 kilometers back, I register every sign as I pass by.
These signs are my lifeline. When my legs are burning and my head wants to give up, I always think: „Just until the next sign.“ Ten kilometers. At my pace, that’s about 20 minutes. You can always do that. And then again. And again. That’s how you break a long distance down into digestible chunks.
Others mentally shuffle from depot to depot. Köttbullar in Jönköping, lasagna in Hjo… These are also mental anchor points for me, even though I don’t usually stop at these larger depots. Knowing that they are there and that you could theoretically take a break there reassures me.
I have learned a lot in this regard from the likeable extreme athlete Jonas Deichmann, the „German Forrest Gump“,whom I know personally and meet from time to time. Jonas always runs / rides / swims „from chocolate bar to chocolate bar.“ One of his books is called The Chocolate Bar Effect: Achieving Big Goals with Simple Means. The trick is to break down the seemingly impossible into small, achievable stages. Whether it’s chocolate bars, kilometer markers, or depots—the main thing is that your mind has something to hold on to.
The calm before the storm
On Tuesday night, Sweden showed its harshest side. It rained heavily and the wind shook the caravan. It was cold, wet, and uncomfortable. Luisa and I lay comfortably in our little rolling home and I thought: In this weather, the Vätternrundan would be a hellish ride. I don’t like to remember 2012, when I had to push myself far beyond my limits in such weather. But the YR app – a Norwegian weather app, originally developed for sailors and my faithful companion for years – promised improvement towards the weekend, which made me very hopeful.
It was still raining from Wednesday to Thursday. But then, on Thursday, the weather changed: sun! Less wind, fewer clouds, hardly any rain. As if Sweden wanted to show us: I can do better.
On Thursday, support arrived: Florian, my friend and colleague, and his buddy André. The two had made a stopover in Copenhagen in André’s fancy Ducato motorhome to visit the city before continuing on to the Vätternrundan. André is a beast on a bike and mainly does triathlons. He had choses his gravel bike for the Vätternrundan so that he wouldn’t be too fast for Florian and me. A nice touch. All three of us had the same start time: 8:32 p.m.
Late in the evening, at sunset, Luisa and I were at Varanmon Beach. When the weather is nice and calm like this year, t’s sensational…
Silver memories
The days before the start have their own rhythm. Wednesday was a special day for me: Luisa and I went to Levins Guld och Silver, the local jeweler. Back in 2015, when I took part in the 50th Vätternrundan at the age of 50, the store had designed a sterling silver „50 years Vätternrundan“ pendant, limited to 25 pieces. I happened to spot it in the display and bought it immediately.
For the 60th edition, there was another anniversary pendant, this time limited to 45 pieces. I had to have it. Now I wear both of them around my neck every day with pride. They are reminders of moments that have shaped me. Of challenges I have overcome – and of the magic of those crazy 300 / 315 kilometers around the lake.
But the wonderful day in Motala wasn’t just a highlight because of the silver pendant.
The Expo, starting documents, and frame stickers
On Thursday afternoon, Luisa and I went to the expo, which was reopening that day after being closed between the two event weekends. Starting at 5 p.m., participants could pick up their race packets: NTC helmet stickers for timekeeping, race numbers, and, of course, the obligatory frame stickers.
These stickers are only still around today because of tradition – and because participants like me intervened with the organizers a few years ago when they were about to be abolished. Originally, the stickers were used to identify the bikes of participants who gave up and were taken back to Motala by bus. At that time, each sticker was individual and showed the start number. Since the large start number is now worn on the front of the handlebars for event photography, the frame stickers are actually no longer necessary.
For true Vätternrundan enthusiasts, however, they are trophies. The more stickers a bike has, the greater the honor. When they were about to be abolished, my blog was the number one blog in Germany on Vätternrundan topics. I was something like the unofficial Vätternrundan ambassador for Germany, and I also published my articles on the Swedish blog cykla.se. As a result, many German participants complained to me personally.
The stickers remained, but without individual start numbers and only on request. Still great.
This year’s sticker was particularly classy: black with gold lettering and the gold 60th anniversary logo. A real collector’s item.
Shopping and selfies
The Craft event tent had everything your heart could desire in terms of Vätternrundan merchandise: a black functional shirt with the 60th anniversary logo, a green cotton shirt, a warm hoodie, a cycling cap, the official jersey with bib, socks, and arm warmers with the VR logo. I could have bought half the store, but I held back. A green and a black T-shirt, a hoodie, and a cap had to be sufficient.
What really surprised me was how many people recognized me! At the registration counter, at the expo, and at the campsite. Not only from the blog, but also from YouTube and Instagram. „Aren’t you CyclingClaude?“ – „Can I take a selfie with you?“ Luisa was a little bit proud of me. And me? I was happy about every interaction.
The highlight was when someone asked me for a selfie in the starting block, only minutes before the start. He had just recognized me in the croud. Crazy!
My hobby project, which started as a personal blog in 2011, now connects me with so many lovely people. I never would have thought that. It makes the Vätternrundan even more special, because it’s not just about riding the 315 kilometers, but also about being part of a community that shares this passion.
Bike check and weather forecast
After the expo, there was still time for a leisurely ride to stretch my legs, and a bike check. Do I have enough pressure in the tires for tomorrow? Are the gears o.k.? Is the chain still well waxed?
Waxed? Yes, waxed. Every detail counts when you’re riding 315 kilometers. I’ve been hot waxing my chains for years, first time for the 2018 Vätternrundan. The advantage is minimal and hardly noticeable. But it helps mentally. And it’s also practical: the wax means that the drive components hardly get dirty and last longer due to the reduced friction. This is called marginal gains – the sum of many small improvements.
And then checking the weather. Again and again. As if that would change anything. The forecast for Friday? Good, and definitely doable. After everything I’ve been through in recent years – rain in 2012 and 2016, headwinds in 2014, heat in 2017, and a freezing cold night in 2024 – nothing could shock me anymore regarding weather conditions.
The final preparations
Then it was time to get the right clothes ready and pack food into my two Cyclite bags. The top tube and frame bags contained only the essentials in addition to my bars and energy gummies: two spare TPU tubes, an electric mini pump, and tire levers. That’s all I need—hopefully.
When it came to clothing, I wanted to play it safe this year. Better to be too warm than too thin and too cold. You can always take clothes off. The weather forecast predicted a minimum of 10 degrees Celsius around the lake at night. But I had been warned: last year, 8 degrees had been forecasted, but near the lake, the thermometer dropped to 2 degrees on a starry night. I had frozen for hours.
Never again. My outfit choice for the start: short bib, knee warmers, warm overshoes, thin merino socks, base layer, jersey, vest, thin arm warmers, short gloves, cycling cap, and Windfree earmuffs. Sounds like a lot? Every piece has its purpose.
The helmet: Abus Gamechanger – well ventilated, but closed at the top. Perfect for cool nights. Instead of my glasses with prescription lenses, I opted for multifocal contact lenses and the electronically dimming Out Of Bot 2+ Clear. The brightest setting is only slightly tinted – ideal for moonlit nights. In retrospect, it was the right decision.
I put my lightweight Rapha Brevet jacket with Polartec Alpha insulation in my back pocket. Maximum warmth with minimum pack size. Plus lightweight gloves and a thin merino wool cap – just in case. Spoiler alert: I didn’t need either of them. The temperature did drop to 4 degrees Celsius at night and I did use the Rapha jacket, but my fingers stayed warm and the cycling cap under my helmet was enough… thanks to Windfree.
My discovery of the year: Windfree
Windfree earmuffs: These things deserve their own paragraph. They are two foam ear cups connected by a plastic headband. Do they look good? No. But at the Vätternrundan, I have seen many participants wearing them around the lake for years.
This time, the Swedish inventor had a stand at the expo, and I secured a pair at the trade fair price. On Amazon, they cost just under 35 euros, which is relatively expensive for foam and plastic. But the inventor does not mass-produce them, as is the case with e.g. Temu.
I was amazed at how well they suppress wind noise. They sit on your ears without applying pressure and drastically reduce wind noise. The result: you hear much more of your surroundings (or the podcast about bone conduction headphones and ambient noise). Another advantage is that your ears don’t freeze in the cold. However, they are too warm at 30 degrees Celsius. I tested this later in the summer. But when does it ever get that warm at the Vätternrundan?
Now I understand why so many Swedes wear these strange things. I do too now, when it’s not so hot, and always during my commutes to the office.
Note to myself: sometimes you have to step outside your fashion comfort zone.
Refueling
My nutrition strategy has changed a lot over the years. In the past, when I only stopped once at the water station after 142 km to achieve my personal best time, I always had 15 to 20 gels with me. Now, however, I can’t stand liquid sugar bombs anymore.
Today, I chew delicious Clif Bar energy bars or their fruit gummies. But my secret tip is the Salty Bar energy bars from 4Endurance: they are only slightly salty, rather sweet and really tasty.
Not to mention the land of milk and honey at the depots! This time, I wanted to stop at a maximum of two depots and not at the large ones in Jönköping and Hjo.
But for the sake of completeness, it should be mentioned that in Jönköping there are köttbullar (meatballs) and in Hjo there is lasagna. In addition, as in the other seven depots: warm blueberry soup, pickled cucumbers, sweet rolls, bananas… And very important for the night: hot coffee!
Florian and André wanted to take more depots. That was clear from the beginning. Why not? A relaxed approach to the route is not a bad thing. Why rush when you can enjoy the event and the food?
I almost forgot the drinks. I’m bringing two large Keego bottles—Keego, of course, what else? After all, pure water from the squeezable bottles with titanium inner coating always tastes delicious—like water, not plastic. Even though I only drink water on my bike all year round, I add powder to it. This time, I opted for NRGY Unit Drink 90 from 4endurance. I tested it once on a 200 km ride and my stomach tolerated it well. Florian, who was with me this day found the drink powder too sweet.
The golden accessory
One last detail about my outfit for the 60 km ride: In April, my brother Olli, our friend Michael from Berner-Bikes-Mallorca, and I were sitting at Playa de Palma having a beer after a ride. One of the „Helmuts“ – that’s what they call the street vendors, – came by. I bought three chunky, gold Mallorca plastic necklace from him. The kind that boozy tourists like to wear at the Bierkönig.
Just for fun, the next day we cycled from Playa de Palma in the south to Can Picafort beach in the north with the golden chains around our necks. Of course, we were the the attraction everywhere we went. Every cyclist greeted us with a smile.
At the time, I thought: if I can do this in Mallorca, I can do it in Sweden too. At 60, nothing in life should embarrass me anymore. So I went to the start of the Vätternrundan with the golden Mallorca necklace around my neck. The 60th edition called for a special accessory. And it couldn’t be any more golden.
Race day – Project 60 becomes reality
Friday, June 13, 2025: The day had come. The weather was at its best: sun, hardly any wind, perfect conditions. The now packed campground was bustling with nervous activity. Everyone was busy with their bikes.
Sticking transponders to helmets, attaching large start numbers to handlebars, checking lights. As always, the Rügen crew meticulously cleaned their chains with toothbrushes, which I didn’t have to do thanks to my waxed chain. Mine is always shiny.
My Canyon Endurace CFR had been ready to go since I arrived. I had a top tube bag and a frame bag from Cyclite with me – ultra-light, waterproof, and with enough space for everything I needed. My Magene radar served as a rear light, which not only lights up but also warns of approaching vehicles. At the front, I used the Lupine SL AF, a StVO-compliant (German road law) light monster with high beam that can be switched on via a Bluetooth control unit. The correspondingly large battery was attached to the top of the top tube with Velcro tape.
All what was missing was the start number and the traditional frame sticker. I stuck the sticker on the top tube, unfortunately a little crooked as usual. I got creative with the start number because I hate it when a big piece of paper flaps around on the front of the handlebars. So I cut away everything except the number and stuck it upright on the front of the head tube with double-sided tape. Perfect! My double-sided tape promptly made the rounds among the others, who were all saying „Wow, that’s cool!“ – „Do you have any more of that?“ – „Brilliant idea!“ Sometimes it’s the little things.
We had had the traditional pasta party already on Thursday evening. On the day of the competition, we had something lighter to eat.
While we were getting our bikes ready, Luisa prepared salmon with jacket potatoes for Florian, André, and me. After all, we didn’t want to be too full.
After lunch, we layed down. Meanwhile, Luisa enjoyed life on Varamon Beach. Wonderful, isn’t it?
Without earplugs and an eye mask, dozing or sleeping on the day of the competition is out of the question. But I was prepared for that.
I woke up again around 5:30 p.m. I ate a little something and went to the bathroom again. Important! Then the ritual of getting dressed began.
First, the seat area! Before applying the seat cream, I put on a layer of Voltaren gel. This slightly numbs the first layers of skin—at least that’s what I tell myself. Does it really work? I have no idea. But I’ve been doing it since my first race in 2010, so it became a tradition. Once the Voltaren has dried, I apply the chamois cream – generously, everywhere where there could be friction. The more, the better.
Then the bib, base layer, jersey… every cyclist knows the order in which to put these on.
After getting dressed, there’s another ritual. I never ride the Vätternrundan without first taking Immodium for diarrhea. I learned this from Wiegald Boning’s bestseller „Confessions of a Night Athlete.“ It says that you should always find the right balance between magnesium and Imodium.
Thanks to Immodium, I’ve never had to go to the bathroom (or sit between the trees) during the Vätternrundan – no matter how many gels and bars I’ve consumed. Intestinal cramps? Not a chance.
And after the Rundan? Normal bowel movements. That’s perfect for me.
Off to the start
Luisa accompanied Florian, André, and me to the start. We deliberately arrived early and met up with some readers of the blog. One was even in the same starting block with us.
My early arrival at the starting area is no coincidence: I want to soak up the atmosphere and – very importantly – pee as much as possible so that I don’t have to stop already after 50 km. There are plenty of toilet trucks at the market square. So it’s better to go more often before the race.
At the start they have three large starting channels, which can accommodate about 60 participants. The start time for each block is displayed above the entrances. At the front is a huge screen with a live broadcast. In each starting block, there is a presenter who interviews people in the starting block while they wait. In between, motivational music blares from the loudspeakers. The atmosphere is electric.
The star of the starting block
When 8:32 p.m. lit up above the left starting block, I was one of the first in my block. The two neighboring blocks were already full and participants were waiting for their start signals at 8:28 p.m. and 8:30 p.m., respectively. I had just positioned myself relatively far forward when someone weaved his way to the front and asked me for a selfie. Apparently, he knew me, but after the photo, he was gone again. Too bad, I would have liked to have the photo.
Meanwhile, I had caught the attention of the presenter of our starting block: golden jersey, thick gold chain around my neck, Vätternrundan tattoo on my leg. Jackpot for him!
Unexpectedly, I had the microphone under my nose and (probably) talked some nonsense. The presenter was enthusiastic about my Vätternrundan tattoo and wondered aloud about offering a tattoo service at the event next year.
We were still chatting when my block started. When the pack rolled off, I hadn’t clicked in yet. I came out fifth or sixth and immediately tried to overtake – after all, I wanted to ride right behind the lead motorcycle, which was guiding each group in an orderly fashion to the city limits. Still within the city, after about 500 meters, I noticed my mistake: I hadn’t started my Wahoo ELEMNT ACE! Damn. I messed up, just like in 2024. Now the first 500 meters are missing on Strava again.
40 kilometers in the pack – then that’s it
Outside the city, after the motorcycle had turned off, we regrouped. André and Florian caught up, and the three of us continued on. On the way to Vadstena, a larger group had formed. I was in the middle, but always half a meter behind the rider in front of me. Safety first.
It went well, but it was exhausting. And my caution paid off: after almost 40 kilometers at a fast pace, someone at the front wasn’t paying attention. There was a sharp braking maneuver. You know how it is: one person brakes, the next one a little later, the next one even later… I slammed on the brakes for a second and just managed to avoid rear-ending them. If I had been right behind them, I wouldn’t have had a chance. The person behind me had more trouble, but luckily didn’t crash into me.
My decision was made: I informed Florian and André and dropped out of the group.
From then on, I was alone, but safe.
The Swedish summer night
Fortunately, there was little wind and the temperature was still pleasant. Small groups kept gathering behind me – some riders stayed, others couldn’t keep up with my pace. Faster riders jumped off my rear wheel to overtake groups. That’s how it is when riding solo: you become a temporary pacemaker for changing riders.
What makes the Vätternrundan so special are the Swedes themselves. In every village, on every corner: Vätternrundan parties in the front yards. People partying all night long, to cheer us on. „Heja, heja, heja!“ echoes through the night and the next day.
The Swedes know how to turn this event into a folk festival. Children with homemade posters, adults with beer and barbecues, whole families standing in rows. In the middle of the night.
Sunset and candy canes
The sun slowly set, bathing the landscape in glowing red. The lake next to us, the setting sun behind us at five o’clock. An incredible atmosphere. These are the magical moments you never forget.
My first mental milestone, as every year: Gränna, the sugar town. Gränna is famous in Sweden for its handmade candies and candy canes. Luisa and I had already bought kilos of them on the way there. The salted caramel candies are sensational. Of course, the shops were closed when I cycled through. Buying candy during the Vätternrundan? There wouldn’t be time for that.
But Gränna remains in the memory of every participant. Right at the entrance to the town, there is a long cobbled passage. In 2010, during my debut, it was a nightmare. My Red Bull road bike (the Rose brand at the time) with an aluminum frame and 23 mm tires at 8 bar was rock hard. I was shaken around on the cobblestones like in a cocktail shaker.
The evolution of the material
In 2011, I was already riding a carbon bike: a Rose with 10-speed Dura-Ace from the bankruptcy estate of a Continental team. Despite 8 bar in the 23 mm Conti 4000 tires, the carbon frame flexed away the vibrations.
Then came the crowning glory in 2015: for my 50th birthday, I built myself a Litespeed T5 titanium bike, with 25 mm tires if I remember correctly. The comfort of this road bike was incredible. At the time, I thought I would never go back to carbon.
But my current Canyon Endurace CFR easily keeps up. Today, with 32mm wide René Herse Stampede Pass Extralight tires and lightweight TPU tubes at just under 4 bar, the cobblestones in Gränna have lost all their terror. It’s amazing what modern materials can do today.
Darkness and earworms
By now it had gotten dark. But with my Out Of Bot 2+ Clear, I could still see well in the clear night. The electronic glasses at their brightest setting – perfect for moonlit Swedish summer nights, and dimming in a second as soon as the sun rises.
Next stop: Jönköping at the southern tip of the lake. When you get there, you have a little over 100 km on the clock. A third of the route is done. I had only visited the depot in Jönköping in 2010, not since then. Not this time either.
But I will never forget 2010: I was traveling with Tino and his brother Veit. The two of them had a massage in the depot while I sat on a bench and waited. Lena’s „Satellite“ blared from the speakers – she had won the Eurovision Song Contest with this song a few weeks earlier. The song has been stuck in my head ever since. Every year. At every Vätternrundan.
Another catchy tune that fits perfectly: „Euphoria“ by Loreen, winner of the 2012 ESC in Baku. For me, it’s the perfect euphoric song for long distances. And then there’s Måns Zelmerlöw, who won in 2015 with „Heroes“ and – if I remember correctly – rode the Vätternrundan himself in 2016.
„Heroes.“ Fits perfectly with the Vätternrundan. Everyone who makes it around the lake is a hero. A Vättern hero.
Youth and melancholy in Jönköping
In Jönköping, the largest city on Lake Vättern, there is of course plenty going on at night – especially on the weekend before Midsommar. The school year is coming to an end, and the graduates and future students are celebrating in style.
The boys: black suits, white shirts, peaked caps like those worn by fraternity members. The girls: chic little white dresses. Every time, I think they must be terribly freezing. But alcohol probably plays a major role at these celebrations—and alcohol warms you up.
When you cycle through Jönköping on Friday night, you see these young people celebrating everywhere. You rejoice in their future and mourn your own youth a little. That’s life. Cycling through the night at 60, while 18-year-olds celebrate their future.
Into the night
When you leave Jönköping and round the southern tip of Lake Vättern, the next few kilometers are a bit dreary. You can no longer see the lake on your right – which is difficult in the dark anyway. The first third of the route is done. Not just in your head, but in your legs too.
Now it’s time to mentally set the next anchor points instead of falling into the black hole of the night. From my many participations, I know the route well: Hjo, after about 172 km, is the next „big anchor“ in my mind. There’s lasagna at the depot – surprisingly delicious. At least that was the case in 2010 when I first participated, and again in 2024.
But in 2024, I had a bad experience there: dressed too thinly for the 3-5 degrees at night, I enjoyed the warmth in the tent. Lasagna, cheese sandwiches, warming up. The mistake: once outside again, the cold shock was brutal. I was shivering so badly that I could hardly get on my bike. It took me five kilometers for the shivers to stop – but I was still freezing.
That’s why this time Fagerhult was to be my depot – kilometer 135. The last time I had been there was in 2010.
Party and sweet rolls in Fagerhult
After 4 hours and 55 minutes of gross riding time, I was there. Shortly before the depot, residents were celebrating wildly, a large boombox on the fence blasting music at the participants cycling past. The music whipped me up – for a moment I wanted to ride past. But reason prevailed.
I turned right, parked my bike within sight, made a quick trip to the portable toilet, then headed for the buffet: coffee, sweet buns, warm blueberry soup, pickled cucumbers, more sweet buns, and more sweet rolls. These buns are awesome – sweet, soft, perfect carbohydrates for the night.
I filled my bottles with Enervit from the large containers… then I ran into Florian, who had just arrived with André. The two of them were faster than me on the course, but had stopped at every depot up to that point. They wanted to chat, but I wanted to keep going. I put two more sweet buns in my top tube bag, took one in my hand, and headed back out onto the course.
It had taken me 18 minutes. Much too long for serious riders who do it in five minutes. But as a lone cycling tourist, it’s okay to take a little longer at the depot.
The next planned depot: Askersund after 256 km, at the start of the new section of the route. From there, it’s only about 60 km to the finish line. You can almost smell Motala.
Karlsborg – the highlight at dawn
Between Fagerhult and my next planned stop in Askersund lies Karlsborg – after about 205 kilometers. Even before you get there, you get a mental high when the Wahoo lights up 200. In the past, with a total distance of 300 km, that was exactly two-thirds. Now, at 315 km, it’s just past Karlsborg when the second third is done.
Karlsborg itself is sensational. At high speed, you approach the lake at a 90-degree angle. To the left, the route continues along the lake shore; to the right, it leads to the depot. The 1.5 kilometers along the lake shore through Karlsborg are a feast for the eyes.
When I drove through, it was already light, but the sun was still very low over the lake. In 2024, it was magical: just as I approached the lake shore at a 90-degree angle, the sun rose above the horizon. Amazing! Happiness hormones shot through my body.
From around 3 a.m., it is light enough to ride without lights. But when you see the sun for the first time… Caution: it is not warm so early in the morning. And when you lose sight of it again in the forest after Karlsborg, the hope of seeing the sun again becomes a mental anchor for the long and tough stretch that follows.
The forest passage – my personal battle section
Everyone has sections of the route they don’t like. For me, it’s the 40-45 km somewhere behind Karlsborg to just before Askersund. Forest, forest, nothing but forest. See the lake? Forget it. Just trees and road. And it’s undulating, with some angry inclines. It drains the strength from your legs and your head.
There used to be a preacher standing on top of one of these bumps. Through his megaphone, he tirelessly gave God’s blessing to all the cyclists who rode past, high-fiving thousands of them. The anticipation made this monotonous section bearable.
Since the preacher stopped coming—probably because he got too old—I hang on from yellow sign to yellow sign. The 100 km sign comes shortly after Karlsborg. Then 90 km, then 80 km, 70 km…
Ten kilometers… you can do it. And then again. And again. That’s how I fight my way through this section of the forest, while my legs get heavier and my head begins to produce strange thoughts.
Askersund – close to the finish line
Presumably, this section of forest could be made more bearable with a stop in Boviken. But because I wanted to get out in Askersund, Boviken didn’t make sense as a stop.
But skip Askersund? Not an option either. After that, Godegård is the last depot before the finish line. But who stops at the last depot when Motala is less than 30 km away? Only if there’s no other option.
This year, my muscles performed surprisingly well. My feet, which I always have problems with on long distances, didn’t bother me with pain or numbness. The new BONT Vapor SL – perfect! Many thanks to the brothers and owners of reins.cc, who pragmatically sent me a large selection of BONT shoes in May so that I could find the right one. Top service, top prices at reins.cc.
My back and neck were another issue. But that’s what ibuprofen is for. Two 400s made the pain somewhat bearable. Without them? No chance. You can „think away“ a lot of pain on long distances, but my broken back laughs at such methods.
The doping question
Are two ibuprofen already doping? And what about the salbutamol that I have to inhale heavily?
The honest answer: in a cycling marathon for everyone, no one cares. Ibuprofen is not on the doping list, and salbutamol is allowed with a doctor’s certificate. But yes, without my medication, I wouldn’t be able to get around the lake.
Fortunately, the Vätternrundan is not a competition. There are no winners, only finishers. I’m not competing against others, only against myself.
Final sprint from Askersund
At some point, I had overcome the boring part of the route. I reached Askersund, rode through the town, and headed for the depot. The sun was already warming up a bit. Two hot coffees, then the usual refreshments as in Fagerhult. The salted cucumbers with a little cucumber water – delicious! After a whole night of eating almost nothing but sweets, it was a tasty change.
I stayed here for just under 20 minutes. I would have liked to stay longer, but at the same time I wanted to power through the rest of the route. I still had energy.
I quickly stowed the warm Rapha jacket in my back pocket and got back on the road. At first, it was too cold on the bike without my jacket. I should have thought of that beforehand. But I didn’t stop again.
Sometimes I overtook, sometimes I was overtaken. Stick with a group somewhere? I wasn’t alert or quick enough to react anymore. After more than 250 kilometers, your head can’t keep up with everything. Safety first.
Drama on the expressway
The last 20 kilometers are on a highway that is mostly closed to traffic for the event. In some places, however, there is only a narrow shoulder, maybe two meters wide.
That’s exactly where a large, long group had to overtake me. Because of my back problems, I couldn’t look back – uncomfortable. The overtakers move over earlier and earlier. At first, there is still space in front of the front wheel, but after ten overtakers, it gets tight. Uncomfortably tight.
Suddenly I was in the middle of the pack because the riders in front had run out of steam and the group lost speed. If only they had stayed behind me, I thought – then there was a sharp braking maneuver at the front. Chain reaction. It was only luck that no one fell.
Note: In the last section of the route, everyone is tired, exhausted, and unfocused. Sticking right behind the rear wheel in a group of strangers? Don’t do it!
I dropped back and followed the group.
The last three kilometers – now it’s time to go for it
Then Motala. The route leads past Z-Parken on the left, where my caravan was parked. Three kilometers to go. I always go all out until my legs surrender. I know how far it is.
Through the roundabout at McDonald’s, straight through the industrial area. 90 degrees left, 90 degrees right, 100 meters straight ahead towards the lake. Into the curve, 90 degrees left – home stretch!
Of course, I overtook everyone from the large group who had annoyed me so much before on these three kilometers. They were exhausted. I wasn’t.
The official timekeeping is already at the start of the home stretch. The organizer doesn’t want to risk over-motivated participants crashing into riders who are just getting their medals hung around their necks.
So I coasted easily through the last 100 meters.
Project 60 – Mission completed
8:51 a.m. After 12:21 hours gross on the bike, I rolled across the finish line. Luisa cheered and took photos before I even got my medal around my neck. Getting off the bike was easy. No sudden cramps – like in the past, when I had ridden the thing in under 10 or 9 hours.
12:21 hours. In the past, I would have been disappointed with a time like that. At 60 years old, with a bad back and all my aches and pains? I’m damn proud of myself.
Florian and André crossed the finish line shortly after me. Faster net time, but significantly more pit stops. André could easily have done it in under 10 hours with a road bike instead of a gravel bike. But you don’t have to. The main thing is cycling, having fun, and getting around.
Epilogue: It continues
Will I be back in 2026? Of course! If nothing serious happens, the event is set for June 12-13, 2026. That would be my 14th lap. And on the 15th lap (2027?), I’d get the medal with the big 15 on it. I already have the 5 and 10 medals.
I’ll keep going. As long as my body holds up. As long as the medication helps. As long as Luisa supports me. As long as there are these crazy 315 kilometers around the lake.
If that’s what you want, Motala is the place to be. Whether you’re 20 or 60. Whether you do it in 8 or 18 hours. Anyone who makes it around the lake is a hero. A Vättern hero. Even 80-year-olds make it around. But I don’t want to dream about that right now.
Claude Walter, 60, 13x Vätternrundan-Finisher
Entdecke mehr von CyclingClaude
Melde dich für ein Abonnement an, um die neuesten Beiträge per E-Mail zu erhalten.
