At about 120th kilometer, inner thigh was not willing to take the next pedal and mind was not willing to accept it. I started getting cramps and got off the bicycle and started to stretch frantically. Relaxed a bit and drank a bit more of water and ate some sea salt that I had picked in the previous support station. It was about 25 minutes of waiting to convince the legs that we can finish it and I was back on the saddle for completing the first Saimaa 300kms 2026.
It was humbling and a wonderful experience to participate and finish the 300 kilometers of cycle riding as part of Saimaa 2026 event. The itch began when I heard about this event from the event organizer himself – Juho Suikkari, while riding in Tour of Karnataka Swedish edition 2025. Description of the scenic route, waterbodies, and nature was assuring enough to book the early bird ticket. One year long preparation time, was eaten away by other important things that mattered most on the timeline.
Fast forward to the start line at Imatrankoski, I was with my cycling friends from Cadence90– a cyclists group in Bangalore, waiting for our turn to start the ride. The riders were split into Groups A and B with a four-minute gap to help space out the thousands of participants. The staging area was a sensory overload: a sea of pristine bikes shimmering in glorious colors, buzzing with nervous, enthusiastic energy. Presenters over the loudspeakers reassured us of the excellent support along the route. While some riders had family members waving them off, we were incredibly lucky to have two special friends standing at the barriers, cheering us on. When the clock struck 19:30, we clipped in and started pedaling toward an experience of a lifetime.
The brilliant evening sunlight multiplied the glory of Imatra, and the roar of the cheering crowd was intoxicating so much so that we immediately abandoned our plan to start easy. Adrenaline took over. Watching my friends make a flying start, I poured everything I had into staying on their wheels. Chethan was absolutely ripping, riding as if his bike had a hidden motor. The others tagged onto him seamlessly, looking as though they were pulled along by an invisible chain. After a few kilometers of this frantic pace, reality set in. I decided to back off, find my own tempo, and actually look at the stunning surroundings. Truly, I was retreating to my comfort zone and for good reason.
As they pulled away into the distance, a sudden realization hit me: I was picturing their Strava feeds. Over the last year, their profiles had been a relentless, unbroken rhythm of consistent training blocks and heavy weekly mileage. My own Strava feed, by contrast, was a patchwork of interrupted plans and missed rides. The data didn’t lie. You cannot fake the base miles, and consistent training is the ultimate currency required to see a finish line comfortably. I knew then that my ride was going to be a battle of mental resilience over physical preparation. Needing me to embrace calmness over anything else. It gave me a nicer window to the breathtaking views that was colored by sun light to bring out the glory.
In my search for calmness, however, I lost track of my logistics. I completely missed the first service point at 50th kilometer mark in Lappeenranta, where I desperately needed to stop and hydrate. By the time the realization hit me, I was already at 52.
Turning back was not an option I wanted to consider. Instead, I took stock of what I had. I had two bottles, one with water and one with a sports drink, some euros in my pocket, the cheering crowds, and the lakes surrounding me. Reassured by this, I knew I could make it to the next service point at kilometer 89. Until then I soaked myself in the beauty of the nature and making ideas for a photography trip, family trip and so on to this place.
Occasionally a fast group of riders would beam past and overtake me. They were incredibly disciplined, maintaining a safe distance while riding at high speeds. I tailed them whenever possible, but I always fell back to my strategy of riding within my limits. I waved at almost every cheering group along the road. For some I saluted and for others I did a Namaste. I am comfortable riding hands free at any pace, which made it easy to interact with the crowd.
Gradually the physical toll began to show. I felt numbness in my hands, an ache in my lower back, and soreness in my buttocks. I conveniently started blaming these pains on the rented bike I had arranged for this ride. It was a size larger than my custom fit gravel bike at home. My bike and I were clearly missing each other.
At the 89 kilometer mark I finally reached the next service point. I got off and loaded myself with food, drinks, and coffee. I charged my phone and Apple Watch so I could share some impressive numbers later. The staff were very kind and offered support without hesitation. Along with various fluids and food the station had impressive bike repair and medical aid available.
I managed to meet Chethan and the others one last time before the finish line and waited for Shyam to arrive. Just as I was about to start riding again I realized my rear tyre was flat. I was so thankful it happened right there and immediately asked the support staff to fix it. It took the mechanic less than five minutes to replace the tube and put the wheel back on. He then noticed the shifters were not functioning properly and repaired them right on the spot. Everything was sorted in under ten minutes and off I went.
The sun had already dipped and I was using my lights to guide me along the road. With a fresh tube, smooth shifting, and a warm cup of coffee in my system, I felt a new surge of energy as I pedaled back out onto the quiet Finnish roads.
As I watched the long shadows fade into the dark, I realized that I had just finished my first non-stop 89 kilometers of riding. This realization lifted my confidence. If I could do that, I could certainly finish the rest. At the 100 kilometer mark I cheered myself on and rode comfortably toward the next stop, unaware of the physical wall waiting for me at kilometer 120.
The easy riding did not last long. Just before the 120 kilometer mark, the road began to climb slightly. On climbs, I have a habit of pulling up on my cleats instead of just pushing down. It is a risky habit that usually triggers early signs of cramping, but I did it anyway to keep my speed up.
Then I felt a sudden pull in my left thigh. I ignored the warning and took a few more hard pedal strokes to accelerate over the rise.
That was my mistake. The cramp hit me so hard that I had to stop immediately. I barely managed to unclip and get off the bike safely before the real war between my mind and body began.
I lay down right next to the road to relax. Slowly, I ate some salt, drank water, and began to stretch. I even took off my shoes to massage my sore muscles and the cramped areas. Even in that painful moment, the thought of quitting never crossed my mind. I was completely determined to finish. I used every trick I knew to fight off the cramps. After some time, my legs began to release and I felt I could ride again. But I made a firm promise to myself right then. I would not dare to pull up on my cleats for the rest of this trip.
After getting back on the saddle with my new rule of not pulling on the cleats, I settled into a steady and cautious rhythm. The dark of the night did not last long in the Finnish summer. Before long, the unique Nordic dawn began to break.
Colorful skies started showing up again, painting the naked earth with a fresh coat of vibrant colors. The unique light slowly revealed the true landscape, showing endless forests and white-barked birch trees lined with beautiful wild flowers. The birds were already active, their morning songs filling the crisp air and turning the ride into pure bliss.
Whether the rising sun had some magical effect on my muscles I cannot say, but the cramps did not reoccur.
My physical worries faded only to be replaced by a new technical anxiety. My Wahoo computer ran out of battery, leaving me relying on my phone and Apple Watch. I was getting nervous because I was tracking the activity on my watch as a fallback, and it was already down to ten percent. Without a power bank on hand, the tension was growing. I had my charging cable and plug head, but I desperately needed an actual wall socket.
Thankfully, the next service point had everything I needed and more, allowing me to keep capturing every detail of the ride. On top of the power outlets, the station served a fantastic hot breakfast and endless fresh coffee. I charged my watch until it reached 85 percent and then left for the next point. I was already noting down lessons from this ride, and the absolute necessity of carrying a portable power bank was quickly added to that list.
As the daylight broadened, the landscape became a bit flatter but the roads remained challenging. For me, long straight roads are uninteresting. The boredom was coupled with steep climbs far in the distance, where I could see other cyclists slowly chugging up. Seeing those massive climbs ahead of time was incredibly discouraging. But with the remaining distance finally dipping under 100 kilometers, I had every reason to push through and make it to the finish line.
After the final checkpoint just 20 kilometers before the finish line, I felt great even though the sun was trying to bake us. Being so close to the goal made me ignore the heat, and I hopped back on the saddle to finish it. Now I was thinking about how this all started and where I was, and I promised myself I would never ride this again. However, I stuck to the basics and did not want to exert myself anymore.
Closer to the podium there were crowds of people cheering. For a minute it gave me the feeling that I had landed back on earth after conquering some extraterrestrial exploration. Very soon I was in front of the podium receiving my hard-earned medal. I was in tears for having been able to finish what I started.
I spent some time taking pictures and called home to share the news. My daughter was the most excited of all and told me she was proud of what I had done.
Fast forward three days. When I opened the Saimaa cycle tour website, there was an early bird offer for 2027. I quietly signed up again, assured that next time I will bring my own bike and put all my other lessons to use.