Back to Life, Back to the Wall

Anyone who knows me knows that climbing is so much more than a sport to me. It’s passion, freedom – and a part of who I am. Since surviving a bowel rupture in 2005, I’ve been living with a disability, but I’ve never stopped pushing limits. Climbing helped me rebuild my life back then. But this spring, I faced one of the biggest challenges of my life once again – a severe illness that left me bedridden for weeks and, at times, fighting for my life.

In May, I had to undergo a complicated abdominal surgery. Several abscesses, a major abdominal and fistula operation, and further procedures pushed me to my physical and emotional limits. At one point, I was in a coma and needed artificial nutrition. The shock came during the operation: the surgeons found an old drainage tube – probably from 2005, when I survived my first bowel rupture. Later, I even had to learn to walk all over again. It was a time when I thought I had lost everything – my independence, my strength, and at moments, even my courage. I spent seven weeks in Ingolstadt Hospital, under the care of Professor Dr. Rentsch and his team – and supported every single day by my partner, Marion, who never left my side.

Between Helplessness and Gratitude

Coming home wasn’t the relief I had imagined – it was the next big test. I couldn’t even shower or change my dressings by myself. My mother came to Schrobenhausen right away to help, but it was Marion who carried me through that time. She washed me, dressed my wounds, cared for me, and lifted me up when I had no strength left. For that, I am endlessly grateful.

The first two weeks after leaving the hospital were filled with helplessness, but then, slowly, movement returned to my daily life. The first time we went shopping together felt like a small adventure. Climbing the stairs each day became a symbol of starting over. My left foot, however, refused to cooperate – I could barely move it. But giving up simply wasn’t an option.

Step by Step Back to Life

With consistent physiotherapy and rehabilitation, my strength gradually returned. Being able to drive again was a huge step – a piece of independence that meant the world to me. A first trip to Lake Brombach felt like a personal victory. I couldn’t swim yet, but just being outside felt like freedom.

Even now, my surgical wounds still need regular care – cleaning, rinsing, dressing. Marion still helps me with all of it, with incredible dedication. Her care has humbled me. I’ve learned that love and support can sometimes be just as powerful as medicine.

The Longing for the Wall

Throughout my recovery, one thought kept me going: getting back to the climbing wall. My doctors told me that a comeback was possible – as long as I was patient and built my body up carefully. That idea carried me through the hardest days. The hope of one day climbing again gave me strength.

In September, that moment finally came. For the first time, I stood before real rock again – in Fieberbrunn, Austria, where Marion and I spent a weekend and visited the famous Knödel Festival in St. Johann. The first time I gripped the stone, it felt like getting a piece of my soul back. That moment meant far more than a sporting success – it was proof that months of struggle and persistence had been worth it.

In October, I climbed again – in Bruneck and Arco – taking on easier routes and slowly regaining trust in my body. Every hold, every move is a reminder that even after the hardest setbacks, it’s possible to climb back into life. I still have to be careful with my abdomen, but with each ascent, I feel my strength and mobility return. Up there on the wall, everything else fades away.

More Than a Sport

For me, climbing has always been more than a sport – it’s a reflection of life itself. Living and competing as an athlete with a disability has taught me how to overcome obstacles and find new paths when old ones seem impossible. On the wall, it’s just like in life: sometimes the route looks insurmountable. But if you keep holding on, you’ll always find a grip that takes you higher. That’s why this comeback means so much more than returning to the sport. It’s a symbol of hope, perseverance, and the belief that even in the darkest times, you must never lose faith in yourself.

Looking Ahead

I feel deep gratitude toward the entire medical team at Ingolstadt Hospital – especially Professor Dr. Rentsch, who operated on me, and the wonderful nurses on Ward 68. They didn’t just heal me physically; they gave me courage when I needed it most. Now, I’m looking forward again. In November, I plan to start training regularly in the climbing gym, and by January, I hope to be back in full swing. My goal is to pick up where I left off before my illness – but with even more gratitude in my heart. 

This comeback is more than just a return to sport. It’s a victory of life itself. I’ve learned how fragile we are – but also how strong we can become when we refuse to give up. And so today, I celebrate four birthdays: my actual one, and three “second chances” – after my bowel rupture in 2005, after organ failure in 2022, and now, after my recovery in 2024.