Trial Training | Naked in Happiness (54)

On Monday, I turned 54. Normally, my wife, children, and I would have celebrated with coffee and cake, and maybe I would have curled up in a hammock with a book afterward. But now I'm a triathlete —almost. And so, instead, at two in the afternoon, I'm standing stark naked on the shore of Lake Liepnitz, preparing for my first transition training session: a 500-meter swim, a 20-kilometer bike ride, and a 5-kilometer run—for the first time, I'm completing all three triathlon disciplines back-to-back. Happy Birthday!

It smells like a thunderstorm. The clouds are moving quickly across the gray sky, the water glitters emerald green before me: the most beautiful forest lake in the Berlin area, and we practically have it to ourselves. Nudism is a matter of honor, after all, I'm a child of the East! My wife is sitting in the shade of a beech tree, my stuff spread out on the blanket around her—racing bike, helmet, sunglasses, running shoes. She smiles at me: "Come on, darling, let's go!"

I start my sports watch and glide into the water. My plan is to swim 250 meters there and back again: The finish line is the floating island at the lido across the street. I swim crawl, and below me, three rudd circle a submerged branch. But my goggles are leaking. They're slowly filling with water, so I can't see the floating island or the distance display on my watch. I have to stop again and again, adjust my goggles, and keep an eye out. Open water swimming! Aha!

As I turn around at the floating island, I'm even shocked: On the shore, which is now the opposite one, I see only a dark green ripple. Where is the spot I want to go back to? I swim to where I think my sweetheart is. When I'm close enough, I call her name, and she waves me back. 532 meters, 14:50 minutes, is what my watch says as I climb out of the lake. Annoyingly slow.

My wife hands me the towel, I eat a banana, get into my cycling clothes, and after an eight-minute change, I hop on my bike . The 20 kilometers on Highway 273 become a meditation in motion. I cycle back and forth along the bike path, the wind gently pushing me forward in one direction, and pedaling against it in the other. It takes me 48 minutes – an average speed of 25.1 km/h.

Back at the lake, I still feel good. Another change, this time only four and a half minutes, and then I lace up my running shoes . Five kilometers to go! I quickly find my rhythm, running steadily through the forest along the lakeshore. When I reach the beech tree again after a good half hour, my wife applauds. "So?" she asks. "How was it?" I look at my watch: 1:51:45. "Fehmarn is coming," I beam with satisfaction.

Then we have to hurry, a storm is brewing. We rush to the car, but I can't stop grinning: Even if it's just a private thing, this was my first triathlon! At 54! The best birthday present this time came from myself.