ABOUT
The Story
Why I ride. How it changed me. Why this challenge.
ABOUT
Why I ride. How it changed me. Why this challenge.
I started cycling at the age of 37.
Before that, I was not an endurance athlete. I was almost 90 kg, did no real cardio activity, and could feel short of breath after climbing just a few steps. I played a bit of golf, but nothing serious.
Cycling entered my life almost by accident.
My wife booked me a physical condition test. The result was poor enough that the coach told me, very directly, that I needed to start moving. Because of some knee issues, he suggested cycling.
My first ride was on a home trainer.
Less than 10 kilometers.
I was completely out of breath — and sweating like never before.
But I kept going.
And then something happened.
I improved.
Quickly.
I could measure it, understand it, and see the progress in real time. Heart rate, power, cadence, fatigue, recovery — cycling gave me numbers, but also direction. It became a way to know myself better.
It also changed my life beyond the bike.
I started sleeping better and learned the importance of recovery and rest. I paid more attention to nutrition, improved my eating habits, and gradually lost weight. From almost 90 kg, I reached 71 kg and then stabilized at 76 kg.
Overall, cycling helped me build a healthier, stronger, and more balanced life.
June 2023
I rode the Cyclotour du Léman, a 176-kilometer cyclosportive around Lake Geneva. I completed it in 4 hours, 33 minutes and 48 seconds, averaging 38.6 km/h.
At the time, I was probably in the best shape of my life.
A month later, everything changed.
While cycling home after work, a car coming from the opposite direction suddenly turned across my lane. I was travelling at more than 40 km/h. There was no way to avoid the collision.
I hit the car and lost consciousness.
When I woke up, both legs were broken. My hip was broken. My jaw was broken together with several teeth. One lung was damaged. My body was covered in cuts and bruises.
What followed were surgeries, rehabilitation, pain, and uncertainty.
Doctors estimated it would take six months before I could walk again.
I was walking after three.
It was one of the hardest periods of my life.
My body was broken.
My mind was broken too.
First, I struggled to accept what had happened. Then I struggled to accept who I had become afterwards.
Yet cycling remained part of my recovery.
As soon as I was physically able, I got back on the bike. Not to chase performance or ambitious goals, but simply to ride again.
What had once felt natural suddenly felt different.
Even riding alone became a challenge.
I had to rebuild confidence, trust my body again, and learn to live with the memories of the crash. Recovery was not only physical. It was also mental.
In December 2025, I underwent another surgery to remove the metal hardware from my hip that had been causing persistent pain. Since then, things have improved.
Today, I ride.
Not because it is easy.
Not because I am naturally built for it.
Quite the opposite.
I am not a climber. I am relatively heavy for a cyclist. My power profile is that of a sprinter more than a mountain rider. I am also a busy entrepreneur involved with a group of companies, which means time is always limited.
That is precisely why this challenge matters.
The goal is to complete more than 125 mountain passes in Switzerland — my home country, home to 48 peaks above 4 000 m and the highest concentration of paved mountain passes in the world.
To do so, I will have to train, plan, travel, suffer, and remain consistent over many years.
But this project is about more than cycling.
It is about rediscovering Switzerland from the road.
It is about stepping outside my comfort zone, again and again.
It is about proving to myself that difficult things are still worth pursuing.
It is about resilience.
It is about growth.
And perhaps, above all, it is about making sure that the accident does not get the final word.
One pass at a time.
One year at a time.
One long ascent.
True to the road.
True to the mountain.
True to the challenge.