When my coworker Max asked if I wanted to join his Bike to Work team, I didn’t hesitate, of course I was in. I’ve done the challenge before and felt like it was time for a rematch.
For the uninitiated, the Bike to Work Challenge is a nationwide challenge in Switzerland that encourages people to ride their bikes to work throughout the month. The rules are refreshingly simple: use your bike for part or all of your commute on as many workdays as possible. It doesn’t matter if you’re riding a sleek road bike, a chunky mountain bike, a comfy city cruiser, or an e-bike. You’re even allowed to split the trip with public transport or a car. The only thing that counts is that some part of your commute happens on two wheels.
The fun twist? Final rankings are based on frequency, not distance. That means daily 5 km riders stand shoulder to shoulder with the slightly overzealous long-distance addicts. (I say that lovingly. Also: guilty as charged)
I decided to write a few words to document how this year’s challenge unfolded for me. So, here we go.
Week 1 (01.05. – 04.05.): The Awakening
I had a consultation lined up to change the dressing for a patient who had amputated part of his finger. So I figured, why not make this into a mini-adventure? I quickly slapped togerther a last-minute route from home to Basel, riding along the German side of the Rhine all the way to Laufenburg, then looping back on the Swiss side.
Note: due to privacy reasons, the route has been truncated. If you need the full official GPX of what I rode to verify, please send me a message.
Before heading out, I made one important decision. After being thoroughly disappointed by my second eTrex 32x, I ditched it in favor of my faithful old 30x. I wrapped it in a silicone case, mostly to keep its aging frame from disintegrating on me. The bumper has holes in it, and honestly, it’s only a matter of time before the soul of the 30x escapes through one of them, leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere, questioning my life choices – yet again 🫣.
The morning ride into Basel was a dream. The city can be surprisingly bike-friendly if you pick your roads with care. Even better, it was May 1st, a national holiday, so the usual swarm of traffic was blissfully absent. I even rode through Schifflände without getting a near-death-experience. That’s rare enough to be noteworthy.
After the consult (shoutout to my co-worker Laura for teaching me this new type of dressing change), I jumped back on the bike and rolled out of Basel under a warm spring sun. The headwind was doing its best impression of a giant hairdryer, but strangely enough, I didn’t mind. I dodged a few joggers and dogs while following the EV15 out of town, then crossed into Germany and made my way toward Bad Säckingen, smiling and waving at the stream of fellow cyclists along the way.
Because there aren’t many places to cross the river, Bad Säckingen was the point where I had to decide: play it safe and cross into Stein, or push onward to Laufenburg. Despite the strong headwind I felt great, fresh enough to briefly believe I might secretly be a pro cyclist, so I kept going.
The stretch between Bad Säckingen and Laufenburg is a cyclist’s dream. No cars, just birdsong, shady trees, and the brilliant blue Rhine riding along beside you like an old friend. It was one of those stretches that makes you forget this is technically a commute. It ended far too soon, as all the best parts do. I reached Laufenburg still feeling energized, with only a slight grumble from my right shoulder.
Even better, for the first time ever, I didn’t get lost in Laufenburg. Usually my eTrex gets overwhelmed by the maze of buildings, but today? Flawless navigation. I survived Schifflände and nailed Laufenburg. Am I in some sort of alternate reality?
Okay, full honesty: I saw a sign that said Waldshut – 15 km. That was hard to resist. I felt so good I figured, “why not?” But then I remembered my husband’s advice. He warned me not to go overboard on day one, something about avoiding unnecessary injuries and saddle sores. My husband is a wise man.
The ride home was lovely, tailwind at my back, cruising effortlessly… until, well, the roadblock. A sign assured me the path was still open for hikers. Which I translated as “surely fine for bikes too, right? Worst case I’ll hike-and-bike my way through it” (Spoiler: it was not). About a kilometer in, I found myself facing a steep gravel climb. I briefly considered my options here: gravel (which I hate with a passion), steep climb (I am allergic to heights), blazing sun…. No, I decided to save myself that torture and made a tactical retreat to take the official detour. Which I managed to make longer. Because I’m stubborn. And also very consistent in my refusal to follow signs like a normal person hahaha 🤣.
When I reached Rheinfelden, I made a very important stop at my favorite gas station. Yes, I have one. Yes, I’m proud of it. My small frame only fits one 650 mL and one 450 mL bottle, which was nowhere near enough for a day like this. I bought the biggest bottle of water I could find and downed it at the counter while the cashier watched, somewhere between amused and horrified. Hydration accomplished.
Just as I was about to leave Rheinfelden, I got a surprise. Marco appeared on the cycling path, having finished work early and decided to join me for the final stretch home. We celebrated with a café stop: Apfelschorle for me, beer for Marco. A perfect ending.
And with that, I wrapped up day one of the challenge with 106.26 kilometers on the odometer. The old 30x performed like a champ, no crashes, no sudden shutdowns, just good GPS accuracy and steady guidance. Not bad at all for a dressing change and a work commute.
Week 1 wrap-up
Leaderboard
Rides
- 01.05.2025; 106.26 km
- 02.05.2025: 39.38 km
- 03.05.2025: 19.18 km
- 04.05.2025: not a working day
Week 2 (05.05. – 11.05.): The Hörnli Heartbreak and other pre-shift crimes against sanity
With the weekend off the bike, I finally had some time to reflect on the last few months and the increasingly large role cycling plays in my life. That train of thought quickly derailed into a new experiment: could I squeeze in training rides on a workday?
Normally, I do my training on days off, training on a work-day has always felt like a risky proposition. But my curiosity doesn’t understand boundaries, and glancing at my calendar, I noticed that I had exactly one morning shift in the entire month. The rest were either late starts or full eight-hour shifts, which meant if I wanted saddle time during the week, it had to be in the morning. So I asked myself: How much could I cycle before a shift and still function as a medical professional? I quickly realized this would be a tactical challenge.
As usual, curiosity won. I planned a few short rides to test the concept.
Test-ride: 60k
When you ride on your day off, things can go wrong without consequence, a flat tire becomes a learning moment, a wrong turn becomes a scenic detour, and unexpected ice cream stops are just part of the charm.
A pre-work ride however? That’s a tactical operation. There’s no margin for error. Timing is critical. Hygiene is non-negotiable. Rolling in late with chain grease on your leg, a face full of insect casualties, and the scent of “eau de three-hour ride” is… less than charming. Ice cream stops must be surgical. The hygiene routine? Industrial-grade at minimum.
I gave myself a generous buffer and planned to arrive at work by 12:30, one hour before my shift would start. With my average speed (including breaks and mild faffing), that meant a 60 km ride would take three hours.
I left at 09:15, the weather mildly threatening, but mercifully held. Because of my failed hike-and bike experience last time, I opted for a countryside detour around Möhlin. It added about 2km, but the peace of the rural roads felt worth the time tax.
My target was a bakery in Stein, one of my favorite places to stop. I arrived slightly famished, ordered a small snack, made a quick sanitary pit stop, and pushed on.
I arrived at work at 12:34. Hygiene routine, bite to eat, and I was ready for my 13:30 shift, with half an hour to spare and surprisingly little fatigue. I felt fresh, functional, focused…. and slightly smug.
Needless to say, I took this as a green light to make everything harder.
Upping the ante: 80k, because what could possibly go wrong?
Two days later, I aimed for an 80 km ride. I gave myself four hours and left early. Physically, I felt fine. Mentally, not so much. About 10 km in, I started doubting the entire idea. Eighty kilometers before work suddenly felt… excessive. I started feeling like a first-day intern on a code blue. Instead of quitting, I continued, spiraling into the following sequence of rookie mistakes that, when combined, formed something between a clinical case study and a Greek tragedy.
Mistake 1: Packed Like a Runaway Prepper
Don’t ask me why, but I packed like I was fleeing society. Three climate zones’ worth of layers? Check. Tools to repair a nuclear submarine? Check. If the police had stopped me, they would’ve assumed I was on the run from both a cult and a cold front.
Mistake 2: The Water Bottle Debacle
Forgot my bidon. Discovered its absence 15 km into the ride. Bought a bottle at a gas station, one of those semi-squishy ones, which, unfortunately, didn’t fit properly in the cage and kept trying to escape my bike frame like it was a war-zone. After having to kick it back every 100 meters like I was trying to spur on a horse, I lost patience, downed it in one go, and rage-dumped it in the next trash bin I saw.
Mistake 3: Route? What Route?
Forgot to load the GPX file onto my eTrex. Discovered this at kilometer 40. From there, I navigated using only muscle memory, misguided confidence, and the general vibe of “this way feels kinda north-ish.” The resulting GPX file looked like a goose got concussed mid-migration. I misjudged my location by 10 km and ended up drawing a perfect saxophone shape across the map. It was like freestyle jazz. But not good jazz. Jazz like a bar fight in a wind tunnel.
Mistake 4: Hörnli of Heartbreak
No banana, no plan. In a last-ditch effort to get some carbs in, I found myself face-to-face with a pasta salad of questionable origin. A salad so sad it really should have come with a therapist.
I mean, look at it! The beige-to-vegetable ratio looked like beriberi waiting to manifest. The peas looked like they’d escaped purgatory. The dressing? Pure sour-tasting regret. And the wooden fork didn’t help, it just quietly whispered, “You did this to yourself.”
I ate it. On a bench. Mid-ride. While reconsidering every life decision that led to that moment. This wasn’t nutrition. This was edible penance. The kind of food you consume only while silently crying. The last thing you eat before rethinking your whole existence. This was the Hörnli of Heartbreak.
Despite the comedy of errors, I arrived at work on time, 12:30 sharp. The ride was done, the mission accomplished. I should’ve been proud. But I felt… off. Enter post-ride diagnostics.
Post-Ride Diagnostics
Mild brain fog had set in. I suspected hypoglycemia, so I shoved more carbs into my face. No improvement. Next differential: dehydration. Chugged two liters of water. Still no change. Which led me to the third differental: hyponatremia, low sodium from sweating, drinking, and not replacing electrolytes.
I didn’t have salt tablets, so I went for the next best thing: ORS (oral rehydration salts). Picked up a few sachets at the pharmacy, where the woman at the counter looked at me like I was about to spend the next 24 hours on a toilet. She kindly warned me not to take more than 20 sachets per day and sanitized her hands after giving them to me.
I mixed two sachets in 500 mL. The taste? Somewhere between hospital corridor and old gym shoes. And for some unholy reason: IT WAS BROWN. Brown goes in, brown comes out, cycle complete? Somewhere, a sadistical chemist is still laughing. But to its credit: it worked. My brain came back online. I felt warm again. Coherent, even. Functional enough to face a shift. To top off my sodium stores, I had a tuna pizza for dinner.
That evening, when I told my husband the whole story, he stared at me and said, “Why didn’t you just stop at Denner and get bread and salami, like we always do?” Of course. Bread. Salami. Normal food. The thing I’ve done a hundred times. And just like that, my rookie arc reached its logical conclusion.
Week 2 wrap-up
Forgot to take a screenshot of the leaderborad unfortunately.
Rides
- 05.05.2025: not a working day
- 06.05.2025: 71.37 km
- 07.05.2025: 19.19 km
- 08.05.2025: 86.54 km
- 09.05.2025: 19.19 km
- 10.05.2025: not a working day
- 11.05.2025: not a working day
Week 3 (12.05. – 18.05.): The cat & the GPS
This week, I figured I’d redo last week’s 80k ride, but this time with an actual plan. We went to Denner before starting the ride, bought bread and salami, filled my water bottle, and even loaded the route onto my eTrex.
At this point, you’d almost think I’m a real cyclist.
The Tuesday pre-work ride went flawlessly, 80 kilometers before noon, no drama, no disasters. Textbook execution. Then came Thursday: 100 kilometers before work, and somehow still no chaos. I rolled into my shift not even feeling tired, hungry, or thirsty. Amazing what a little preparation (and a lot of bread and salami) can do.
And then… I fell in love with a cat.
The Cat (Not Cycling-Related, Except Emotionally)
I didn’t keep much of a written cycling log this week, not because I wasn’t riding, but because I got utterly derailed (emotionally and logistically) by a cat I found near our home. Her fur was a mess, she was missing her right whiskers and was skin and bones. I took her to the vet. No chip. So I did what any exhausted, soft-hearted cyclist would do: I printed out posters and plastered the neighborhood, hoping to find her people.
I should mention: I’m not a cat person. They make me a little nervous, too fast, too sharp, and historically inclined to bite or scratch me without warning. But this one? Not a single scratch, not a single bite. Just purrs and cuddles. I fell hard. I love her ragged, outdoor, vaguely homeless look, it matches my eTrex, honestly. I even brushed her fur. She loved it. She just looked at me like maybe we understood each other.
The GPS Situation (Cycling-Related, Technically)
Another major distraction: the eTrex 32. Or more accurately: the absence of a working eTrex 32.
I’ve been using Garmin eTrex units for over a decade. The original since 2011, the 30x since 2015. Both now have holes in the casing from years of abuse use abuse, and I finally decided to upgrade so I bought a shiny new eTrex 32 in November 2024.
That first one powered itself off 10–15 minutes into every ride. The replacement? Same issue. The third one? You guessed it: random shutdowns, now during our 100k pre-work ride. By this point, my trust in modern eTrex systems was circling the drain. I contacted the seller, fully expecting to be ignored, but, against my expectations, Galaxus refunded me without a fuss. Full credit to them.
Which left me with a new problem: how the hell am I going to navigate anything going forward?
Around home? I can wing it. But for longer planned routes, especially the CH Gemeinde challenge, and eventually the RATN in 2026, that’s a completely different flavor of chaos.
My options were… less than ideal:
- Navigate using Marco’s Wahoo only (if it dies mid-ride, we’re back to freestyling, which, as Exhibit A: Week 2 clearly demonstrates, ends in chaos and food-related trauma)
- Ride with the aging eTrex 30x, carrying the even older 30 as backup (nothing says “trust me” like decade-old plastic and hope)
- Buy a “real” cycling computer (blasphemy, obviously)
- Hope for divine GPS intervention
I spent a good chunk of the week tangled in this mess, somewhere between brushing a semi-feral porch cat and wondering how many backup devices you can carry before your ride turns into a tech-based pilgrimage.
Week 3 wrap-up
Rides
- 12.05.2025: 19.18 km
- 13.05.2025: 90.0 km
- 14.05.2025: 51.91 km
- 15.05.2025: 106.38 km
- 16.05.2025: not a working day
- 17.05.2025: not a working day
- 18.05.2025: not a working day
Week 4 (19.05. – 25.05): The Abandonment
My husband left. My bicycle left. And now I’m riding a haunted aluminum mule with a saddle that needs an exorcism, while the wind force-feeds me protein with wings.
This week, Marco went to the Netherlands ahead of me to visit family and friends. The plan? We’d reunite next week and ride a test loop of the Race Around the Netherlands. But that meant one thing: he took my bicycle. Rainbow Dash, my endurance Bentley, was loaded into the car like a traitorous co-pilot, leaving me behind with Goldmember, our backup bike.
Goldmember is a Trek Domane AL2, kindly loaned to me by Marco. We bought it after his own bike got stolen, and to be fair, she served him like a champ: 52 kilometers a day, five days a week, three months straight, through a winter that dipped to -7°C. If that doesn’t scream badass, I don’t know what does.
But emotionally? For me, she’s still a Fiat Panda: honest and hardworking, but with brakes that demand optimism and a saddle that whispers, “rash incoming.” This Bike to Work challenge didn’t just get harder; it turned into a high-stakes training simulation, wrapped in abandoment and bolted onto borrowed wheels. Brake tension? Suspicious. Saddle? Actively plotting against me.
To give Rainbow Dash a proper send-off, we planned one last easy 80k ride before work. It went off-script almost immediately. About 5k in, Marco had to drop out, still sick from gastroenteritis and dangerously close to becoming a human fountain. I should’ve taken that as an omen and turned back. I didn’t. We split up. I pushed on.
At around 60k, the Di2 battery died. No more shifting. Just… silence. “Charge every 1000km,” they said. “So, like once a season?” I thought. Spoiler: Not once a season. Not even close. I cycled back, single-speed style, grumbling, and a touch more humble.
My second ride was slightly better, if you ignore the insect buffet. I’ve officially invented aerodynamic nutrition through non-consensual entomophagy. Sometimes they flew in so deep, I didn’t even have the option to chew. This wasn’t fueling, this was full-on photosynthesis for cyclists. “Oh, Petra, what you eat during your last ride?” Well, I’m glad you asked! Haribo. Denner salami. Electrolyte water. One square of chocolate. And whatever the wind threw into my mouth. Low effort, mid-protein, morally ambiguous.
Let me be clear: all insect-based calories were absorbed involuntarily. I didn’t pursue these bugs, they entered my mouth of their own aerodynamic volition. I am, against my will, part of the ecosystem now.
Despite the comedy, I started to feel a little lonely. And, frankly, a little jealous. My bike didn’t just leave, it left with my husband. As I dodged bugs like Neo in The Matrix, they were off on a romantic pre-race getaway, probably sipping chain lube cocktails and reminiscing about my bonks. And me? I’m saddling up on an aluminum mule with a brake-system that belongs in a museum; emotionally third-wheeled by my own drivetrain.
PS: I found the cat’s owner; everything’s fine now. Life can return to normal… though judging by my camera roll, my new normal is officially having more cat pictures than bike pictures 😅
Week 4 wrap up
Rides
- 19.05.2025: not a working day
- 20.05.2025: 90.79 km
- 21.05.2025: 19.16 km
- 22.05.2025: 19.24 km
- 23.05.2025: 29.28 km
- 24.05.2025: not a working day
- 25.05.2025: not a working day
Week 5 (26.05. – 31.05.): From Rainbow Dash to Goldmember Rash
How 1000km might have escaped me, but the saddle sure didn’t
The more time I spent on Goldmember, the more I started to realize: my secret goal of cracking 1000 km wasn’t just slipping away; it was gone.
It started subtly. A faint soreness on Monday. By Tuesday, after a 37k commute, I knew. The dreaded saddle sore had arrived, and I had to tap out.
In retrospect, it makes sense. Goldmember and Rainbow Dash may both have two wheels, but that’s where the similarities end. The geometry is different. The saddle isn’t so much a saddle as it is a precision-targeted meat grinder, seemingly designed to test the structural integrity of soft tissue under duress. And to make matters worse, I couldn’t use my Tailfin or any rack setup since we didn’t have a way to attach it to the bike. That meant riding with a backpack, pressing even more weight down onto already compromised contact points.
I checked the Bike to Work rules again, clinging to a shred of hope:
Kombiniertes Pendeln
Your way to work is too long? A combination of bike with public transport or car is permitted. But make sure that you only enter the kilometres covered by bike.
Motivated but still no bike? One member per team may participate on foot, with a scooter, skateboard or other means using their own muscle power. You enter the distance covered as bike kilometres.
E-bikes are permitted.
So I made the hard call: Goldmember stayed home, and I finished the final few days on foot/train.
I hated it. Tapping out felt like failure. But if I didn’t let the saddle sore heal, I’d not only risk compromising the test ride of the RATN route next week, I’d wreck my holiday. And that’s the bigger goal. With Marco’s full support, I opened WhatsApp and wrote the dreaded message: I’m out.
What stings most is knowing how close I was. If I’d had my own setup the entire time, I would have crushed 1000 km without blinking. Before switching bikes, I had zero signs of overexertion. No pain, no hot spots, joints were fine, shoulder was fine. Just solid, steady progress. And then all of a sudden, it was game over.
But here’s the thing: Even with all that, the rookie mistakes, the emergency bicycle swap, a GPS that behaved like staying powered on was a premium feature I forgot to subscribe to, and a nutritional plan best described as “accidental”, I still rode 843 kilometers. For those who live and die by cycling metrics, brace yourselves: that’s more than 31 out of 34 entire TEAMS*. That wasn’t what I aimed for, and to be honest, I’m proud, and a little astonished myself.
I may have tapped out near the finish line, but looking back, this month wasn’t a failure, it was a successful comeback. After four months off the bike due to a health scare, I showed up, rode hard, rode smart (…OK, not always that smart 😉), and only stopped when stopping meant protecting something more important.
1000 km can wait. I’ll be back in 2027 to finish the job.
For now, my undercarriage is officially on holiday. I’ll focus on healing, tinkering with the RATN route, and getting ready for the next ride, wiser, tougher, and just a little bit more unbreakable.
Let the RATN test ride begin.
Week 5 wrap up
Rides
- 26.05.2025: 19.25 km
- 27.05.2025: 37.33 km
- 28.05.2025: not a working day
- 29.05.2025: not a working day
- 30.05.2025: 2.32 km (walking)
- 31.05.2025: 2.32 km (walking)
Closing thoughts
Before I wrap this up, there’s one last thing I want to say.
To my Bike to Work group: Max, Andres, Markku; thank you! Thank you for welcoming me into your team, for listening to my endless and occasionally unhinged cycling stories, for the support, and for all the laughter. We were the only team with a flawless 100% attendance, and I’m ridiculously proud of that. I couldn’t have done this without you, and honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted to.
You’re not just great teammates, you’re awesome coworkers, too. I genuinely enjoy working with you, and doing this challenge together made it all even better.
And with that… we’ve officially reached the end of this little journey. Thanks for reading along through the chaos, the comedy, and the kilometers.
Until next time, and remember: keep the paint side up and the rubber side down!
PS: I’ve officially swapped out the eTrex for a Wahoo. I even figured out how to add POIs to it, just like I did with the old setup. It’s not perfect yet, but I’ll tinker with it over the next few weeks and write a dedicated post; just like I did back when I first started hacking around on the eTrex.
* Note: The official results of the Bike to Work challenge will be released on June 8th. The numbers and rankings mentioned here are based on preliminary data and may be subject to change
