📝 Maruša Tereza Šerkezi • 📸 Matjaž Šerkezi, Grega Stopar, CUBE media

Po koncu svetovnega prvenstva v Andori so z vseh strani začele prihajati ponudbe za nove ekipe. Marsikdo si ne predstavlja, koliko premisleka, tehtanja prednosti in slabosti je bilo potrebnega, preden smo sprejeli odločitev. Najpomembnejše mi je bilo, da lahko dirkam brez pretiranega pritiska po rezultatih, da se v ekipi počutim varno in spoštovano – in seveda, da so pokriti stroški priprav, prevozov, opreme in prehrane in da je z mano lahko moj trener.

Vse to mi je omogočila ekipa CUBE Factory Racing – CUBE Next Generation, s katero sem tudi podpisala pogodbo. Morda je koga presenetilo, da sem se odločila za ekipo, ki še ni tako prepoznavna, a prav zaradi svojih preteklih izkušenj, ko sem bila povabljena v katero od ekip za čas tekme, vem, da sem se odločila pravilno. To je ekipa, s katero trenutno lahko rastem, se razvijam – in ostajam zvesta sama sebi.

Zato je bil začetek sezone še posebej razburljiv. Nove izkušnje, boljša organizacija, lažje potovanje, nova ekipa, nova energija. Sezono smo začeli v Španiji – meni zelo ljubi destinaciji za dirkanje. Že februarja sem v kratkih rokavih nabirala prvo barvo, medtem ko so iz Slovenije prihajale fotografije snega in sporočila o mrazu.

Udeležila sem se dveh dirk najvišjega ranga za mladinke – obeh Junior Series. Prva dirka v Chelvi ni bila presenečenje: suha in tehnično zahtevna proga, kjer vedno uživam. Povsem druga zgodba pa je bila v Banyolesu, kjer nas je pričakalo pravo blatno peklo. Med dirko sploh nisem opazila, da sem prehitela nekaj odličnih tekmovalk iz U23 in elite kategorije. Spomnim se trenutka, ko sem dvignila pogled s kolesa in uzrla prizor, ki je bolj spominjal na bojišče kot pa na dirko. Na vsakih nekaj metrov je kdo ležal na tleh ali popravljal kolo. Sama sem se počutila odlično – skoraj bi odpeljala še en krog preveč.

Tu moram pohvaliti naše serviserje –naša kolesa so bila med najbolje pripravljenimi za takšne razmere. Po Sloveniji se je med MTB skupnostjo celo pošalilo, da smo jih namazali s svinjsko mastjo. Dobra!

Po tej dirki sem se hvalila, kako mi blato ustreza – a hitro me je ujela karma. Na dirki v Švici, Monte Tamaro, sem bila druga. To je bila prva dirka, katere me je bilo dejansko strah štartati. Pred štartom sem trenerju z roko pokazala – strah me je. Z gesto mi je nakazal, da ni važno mesto, samo naj živa pridem v cilj. Verjetno še nikoli nisem vozila tako previdno. A ni šlo drugače – kar 10 od 15. minut smo morale dejansko teči, saj je bilo blata do gležnjev. Že v suhem je bila to ena najtežjih prog, v mokrem pa skoraj nevozna. Teren ni dopuščal nobene napake. Včasih sem se spraševala – ali ni to morda vendarle preveč?! Kot da so organizatorji ob ogledu proge naleteli na skale in jih preprosto vključili, z mislijo: “Ah, saj bodo že nekako speljale.”

Iz podobnega razloga sploh nisem štartala na italijanski dirki Caneva Trophy (kategorija C1). Proga dan pred tekmo še ni bila dokončana. Vem, da na vreme in razmere ne moremo vplivati, a pričakovati vrhunski nastop na nedokončani in nevarni progi je nespoštljivo do tekmovalk. Trening so nam omogočili zgolj med 7. in 8. uro zjutraj, tekma pa je bila šele popoldne. Razumem, da je organizacija zahtevna, a v C1 kategoriji bi morale imeti prednost tekmovalke in tekmovalci. V primeru velikega števila prijav in časovne stiske bi lahko mlajše kategorije (U7–U13), prestavili na drug dan. Ali si vzeli za zgled Avstrijo, kjer je mladinski pokal ločen od članskega. Gre za varnost. In sama ne bom tvegala poškodbe zaradi banalne nepremišljenosti.

Vse to smo tudi zapisali v pismu organizatorjem. Odgovora nismo prejeli.

Zadnja leta je v olimpijskem krosu očiten trend – proge postajajo vse bolj tehnično zahtevne. Vse več časa namenjamo vožnji navzdol. Skoki so višji in daljši, proge hitrejše, vzponi kratki in tehnični. Zakaj? Ker želijo organizatorji pritegniti navijače, ponuditi atraktivnost. Pravkar so objavili, da so za letošnje svetovno prvenstvo v Švici progo nekoliko prilagodili – ker so se tekmovalke lani pritožile nad prezahtevnostjo. Tehnično zahtevni spusti so nevarni, saj so naša XC kolesa bistveno drugačna od Enduro in DH koles. Poleg tega pa naša tekma traja med uro in uro in pol in v tem času moraš biti ves čas popolnoma skoncentriran na vožnjo, kljub temu, da laktat ves čas hromi mišice, ki jih moraš v trenutku pripraviti na tehničen spust. Podobno kot biatlonec, ki mora po šprintu stoje streljati na tarčo.

Priznam – ko sem jo gledala po televiziji, me je malo stisnilo. Všeč mi je bilo, da so nekatere dekleta imele pogum glasno povedati, kaj si mislijo. A verjamem, da je bil del težave tudi slaba organizacija – šlo je za novo prizorišče na svetovni sceni, in očitno so še iskali ravnotežje.

Na splošno podpiram razvoj športa in tudi to, da je tehnično zahtevnejši kot v preteklosti. Nove generacije treniramo drugače in smo pripravljene na več. A vendar – kje je meja?! Kje je tista zdrava meja med atraktivnostjo in varnostjo?! In ali ne postajamo le gladiatorji v svetu “šovbiznisa” velikih korporacij, le da za razliko od Kojota*, imamo le en poskus?!

Verjetno bomo odgovore na vse skupaj morali še najti.

*Kojot in Cestni dirkač je risanka iz ameriške risane serije Looney Tunes, v kateri nastopata dva junaka: Kojot (v izvirniku: Wile E. Coyote) in Cestni dirkač (v izvirniku: Road Runner). Kojot si vedno želi ujeti Cestnega dirkača. To poskuša na različne načine, denimo z dinamitom.Vedno izgubi, a poskuša vodno znova.

Here is the full English translation of my text done by ChatGPT Version 1.2025.175

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Same Vision, New Team, New Beginning

📝 Maruša Tereza Šerkezi • 📸 Matjaž Šerkezi, Grega Stopar, CUBE media

After the World Championships in Andorra, offers for new teams started pouring in from all sides. Many people don’t realize how much thought it took before we made a decision. We weighed the pros and cons and reflected on them.

What mattered most to me was being able to race without excessive pressure for results. I wanted to feel safe and respected within the team. It was also important to have my training camps, travel, equipment, and nutrition covered. Finally, I wanted to be able to continue working with my coach.

All of that was made possible by the team CUBE Factory Racing – CUBE Next Generation. I signed a contract with them. Some have been surprised that I chose a team that isn’t yet very well known. However, due to my past experiences, I know I made the right decision. In the past, I had been invited to join some teams only for the duration of a race.

This is a team I can currently grow with, develop in, and most importantly, stay true to myself.

That’s why the start of this season felt especially exciting. New experiences, better organization, easier travel, a new team, new energy.

We kicked off the season in Spain — one of my favorite places to race. Already in February, I was riding in short sleeves. Meanwhile, back home in Slovenia, photos of snow and cold-weather messages kept coming in.

I took part in two top-tier races for juniors — both Junior Series events. The first race in Chelva wasn’t a surprise: dry and technically demanding, exactly what I enjoy.

But Banyoles was a completely different story — we were welcomed by a true mud hell.

During the race, I didn’t even notice that I had passed several strong U23 and elite riders. I remember looking up from my handlebars and seeing a scene that resembled a battlefield more than a bike race. Every few meters, someone was lying on the ground or fixing their bike.

I felt great — I have almost done an extra lap.

I have to praise our mechanics — our bikes were among the best-prepared for those conditions. In fact, a joke spread among the Slovenian MTB community that we had greased them with pork fat. Not bad!

After that race, I was bragging about how well I perform in the mud. However, karma caught up with me quickly. At the race in Monte Tamaro, Switzerland, I placed second.

It was the first race I was truly afraid to start. Before the race, I signaled to my coach with my hand — “I’m scared.”

He gestured back that the placement didn’t matter, just make it to the finish line safely. I don’t think I’ve ever ridden so cautiously. But I had no other choice. We had to literally run for 10 of the 15 minutes. The mud was ankle-deep.

Even in dry conditions, this course is one of the toughest. In the wet, it was nearly unrideable. The terrain didn’t allow any mistakes.

Sometimes I wondered — isn’t this just too much? It seemed like the organizers stumbled upon a pile of rocks while walking the course. They decided to include them with the thought: “Ah, they’ll manage somehow.”

For a similar reason, I didn’t even start the Caneva Trophy (C1) in Italy. The course wasn’t finished even the day before the race.

I know we can’t control the weather or conditions. However, expecting a top performance on an incomplete and dangerous course is disrespectful to the riders.

We were only allowed to train between 7 and 8 a.m., and the race wasn’t until the afternoon.

I understand that organizing events is demanding, but at the C1 level, elite riders should be the priority.

In cases of high registration numbers and time constraints, younger categories (U7–U13) will be moved to another day. Or take Austria as an example, where the junior cup is held separately from the elite races.

This is about safety. And I won’t risk injury due to careless decision-making.

We put all of this in a letter to the organizers. We never received a reply.

In recent years, there’s been a clear trend in Olympic cross-country (XCO): courses are becoming increasingly technical.

More and more time is spent descending. Jumps are higher and longer, courses faster, and climbs shorter and more technical. Why? Because organizers want to attract fans and create a show.

They just announced changes to the course for this year’s World Championships in Switzerland. The adjustments were made because riders complained last year that it was too difficult.

Technical descents are dangerous, especially because our XC bikes are vastly different from Enduro or Downhill bikes.

Our races last between one hour and an hour and a half. During this time, you must remain completely focused. Your legs are filled with lactic acid, but your muscles must respond instantly to every technical challenge.

It’s similar to a biathlete who has to shoot with precision after sprinting.

I admit — when I watched it on TV, I felt a little anxious.

I liked that some of the girls had the courage to speak out and say what they think. But I also believe part of the issue was poor organization. It was a new venue on the world scene. Clearly, they were still trying to find the right balance.

Overall, I support the evolution of the sport and the fact that it’s more technically demanding than in the past. New generations train differently and are ready for more.

But still — where is the line?

Where is that healthy balance between attraction and safety?

And are we not becoming just gladiators in the showbiz world of big corporations, only unlike Wile E. Coyote*, we only get one chance?

We’ll probably have to keep searching for the answers.

* Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner is a cartoon from the American series Looney Tunes, featuring two characters: Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner. Coyote is always trying to catch the Road Runner, using all sorts of tricks — like dynamite. He always fails but keeps trying again and again.

Kolumna Maruše Tereze Šerkezi je bila ekskluzivno objavljena v reviji Bicikel, št. 124/2025 (str. 70–71). 👉 Ne zamudi celotne številke! Poišči revijo na prodajnih mestih ali naroči svoj izvod na www.bicikel.com.
Maruša Tereza Šerkezi’s column was published exclusively in Bicikel magazine, issue 124/2025 (pp. 70–71). 👉 Don’t miss the full issue! Find the magazine in stores or order your copy at www.bicikel.com.