Trial training | Holiday in top form

Ah, backcountry—you've won my triathlon heart, and in no time at all! Greetings from the sunny south of Germany, while my dear colleagues at Berlin's Franz-Mehring-Platz are dutifully working their editorial duties. While they're writing, editing, layouting, and, incidentally, getting the "nd" ready for the next 80 years, I'm cycling with my wife along the Moselle and Saar rivers—and discovering fantastic conditions for our next training session on my vacation.

Because one thing is certain: you can train better in any small town than in Berlin. If you don't believe me, just travel to Remich in Luxembourg or the idyllic town of Saarburg and witness how a city-weary wannabe triathlete from Pankow's city center is amazed by the aquatic worlds in the provinces. Whereas in the capital's chlorinated pools, fierce battles for supremacy between the lines are fought, here I relax and swim my laps – disturbed only by a chatty lifeguard or a pensioner walking through the water with a pool noodle.

It's incredible: The sun seems to always shine, the coffee at the kiosk comes from an espresso machine, and it's shocking how friendly the pool staff are: "Welcome! How can I help you? Of course, I have a couple of hand paddles to borrow! You also need a pull buoy? No problem!"

A pull buoy is that bulky, wave-shaped kickboard you clamp between your legs to train your arm strokes exclusively. Of course, I don't have one in my travel luggage. But in my small town, I'm handed one at the swimming pool. The countryside has everything I'm craving: little stress, lots of attention, and, incidentally, the reassuring feeling of finally being among the fastest .

Four days ago, my sports watch caused confusion: I'd been doing basic training almost daily for three weeks when, instead of the usual "Maintain Form" or "Build Form ," the display suddenly showed the words "Peak Form"! At first, I was delighted, but then I was overcome with panic: "Peak Form, already?" Help! But I don't want to shine in a competition for another six weeks!

As I got out of the water, I asked the friendly lifeguard if I was legally in top form, despite coffee, cake, and relaxing swims in the Saarburg outdoor pool? She smiled: "Oh, you know, here in the provinces everything goes faster than in the big city. It's just that no one notices."

One day later, while eating ice cream in downtown Trier, I noticed that my watch had switched back to RECOVERY. Interesting, I thought, so this peak form lasted a full 24 hours. The provinces certainly inspire triathlon poets like me: If you get in shape too early, the next workout will punish you.