Why Isabell Decided to Build Her Own Steel Frame

From hospital shifts to exhaustion

Isabell loves her job – but she loves road cycling even more.

She’s 37, a doctor. Dedicated, precise, compassionate. She’s never treated her profession as just a job – it was always a calling.

But even callings can wear you down.

Shifts. Weekends. Decisions by the minute.
She kept going – professionally, reliably.
But inside, she was getting quieter. And emptier.

Even on her days off, her mind stayed loud. Her phone always within reach. Sleep shallow.
And with each day, she felt less connected to what once gave her purpose.

What she needed was space.
Not for others.
For herself.

Escape, one hour at a time

When Isabell is on the bike – her long blonde braid tied back,
leaning over the bars, athletic, relaxed, in the flow – that’s when she’s fully herself.

Effortless. Fast. Beautiful – in a calm, unshakable way.

She doesn’t ride to prove anything.
She rides because the bike takes her away – from work, from pressure, from noise.
Sometimes just for an hour. But that hour is hers.

She’s finished the Maratona dles Dolomites, the Ötztaler Radmarathon, and the brutal Race Across the Alps.
She lives for long climbs, tired legs, and that one moment at the top when it’s just her and the sky.

A perfect bike – but not her bike

Right now, she rides a carbon Wilier with Di2.
It’s stunning. Fast. Technically flawless.
She was thrilled when she bought it. That first ride? Pure magic.

But over time, the thrill faded.
And something else crept in – something she didn’t really want to admit:

“It’s not really my bike.”

Sometimes she even feels awkward about how much she paid for it.
Because the truth is – anyone can buy it.
What it lacked was connection. Meaning. Pride.

And maybe she felt that way
because she remembered what real steel feels like.

Her first road bike was a Koga Miyata, a gift from her father.
A classic steel frame – simple, honest, beautiful.
She still remembers the hum of the tubes, the calm confidence, the quiet strength of that ride.

The Wilier was perfect.
But the Koga – that was hers.

The moment everything changed

Then came the 2024 Spreewald Marathon.
The full 200 km version. Cold. Rainy.
Many riders didn’t even start – and Isabell nearly bailed too.

But she really wanted to finish the event this year.
She knew: her legs could take her to the finish line.
As long as she kept up the pace, she could manage the cold.
And once she was rolling, she was glad she’d started.

50 kilometers to go. The hardest part was behind her.
Her rhythm was good. Her mind was clear.
Everything felt right.

And then – at kilometer 156 –
the battery was dead.

No shifting. No adapting.
The ultra-modern bike? Useless.

She stepped off. Wet. Cold. Exhausted. Staring at the bike she’d once adored.
And suddenly, she knew:

“Never again a bike that tells me when I’m done.”

The decision to build something of her own

She didn’t want a product.
She wanted a bike she built herself.

Steel. Mechanical shifting. No excuses. No failures.
Just something honest. And hers.

So she came to me.

One week off.
No beach. No spa.
Just a workshop. An idea. And a box with her name on it.

Inside: Columbus Spirit – ultra-light, precisely crafted steel tubing.
The material her future bike would be made from.

A week that changed everything

On the first day, she stood in front of the box, leaned over slightly, looked inside –
and said quietly:

“I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing… but this feels right.”

Then she got to work.
Cutting tubes. Filing. Aligning.
And for the first time in her life, she held a torch in her hand – hesitant at first, then more confident with every joint.

She learned how brass flows when the heat is just right.
How quiet the mind can get when your hands are fully in the moment.

→ No notifications.
→ No multitasking.
→ Just her, the material – and what would come of it.

A frame that will never let her down

At the end of the week, she held it in her hands: her own frame.

Not perfect – but real.
Not made for anyone else – just for her.

These days, Isabell still rides after work –
not because she needs an escape,
but because she can.

And every time she gets on the bike, she thinks:

“This one won’t let me down.”

Looking back – and looking ahead

Sometimes her thoughts drift back to that week in Potsdam.
To the workshop, the smell of flux and steel dust.
The steady hiss of the torch, the focused calm.
To Daniel and Stefan, who built their frames alongside her.
And to those lunches, grilling burgers outside the workshop together – tired, hungry, and proud.

She wonders what their bikes look like now.
If they still ride them.
If they also think back to that week sometimes.

And she smiles.
Because she knows that it was more than just a course.
It was a step back to herself.

Next year, she’s set to ride the Haute Route 2026.
And she can’t wait –
on her own steel frame.

👉 Book your spot in the framebuilding course here.
👉 Still have questions? Schedule a Frame Design Session.

If you’re unsure which path is right for you –
just write me. I’d love to hear from you.

See you in the workshop,
Robert