Ach Enduro, you used to be a really cool racing discipline. Don't get me wrong, you still are in many respects. But on the big racing world stage, you've clearly lost your appeal. I'm looking back to 2013, but you were around before that, so I'll expand a little. We first met in 2006, at a kind of mountain bike rally as part of the Roc d'Azur in the south of France. An incredible amount has changed since then. Back then, you developed about as rapidly as gravel sport does today. And the euphoria that it currently radiates was exactly your charisma back then - around 2013.

It was also the year in which the discipline was more clearly defined and experienced its first major highlight with the start of the Enduro World Series in Tuscany, in Punta Ala. Everyone wanted to be there, to write their lines in this new history. With this very first EWS race, you attracted greats such as Greg Minnaar, Nicolas Vouilloz, Anne-Caroline Chausson and Tracy Moseley - and with them around ten other world champions from various mountain bike disciplines. Yes, even I was allowed to count myself among them. Like most of the almost 500 participants, I had nothing to do with the outcome of the race. However, the euphoria of being part of this very first edition was indescribable. This euphoria was carried out into the world by the specialist media in the form of cool photo stories and ignited the fire among racing fans. Even if you're not a very spectator-friendly sport, your vibe was felt worldwide thanks to the media.

While I only occasionally sought out encounters with you, others traveled around the world thanks to you and contested race after race, stage after stage against the clock. They had great days on their bikes, coped with crashes, made long-lasting friendships, helped each other with breakdowns between stages and developed the highly praised "Spirit of Enduro". Yes, this was later stolen by some brands as a marketing slogan, but this spirit was as genuine as enduro racing itself.

Your high point with the World Series was around 2016. You were well-rehearsed and your races were spread all over the world. They were long, demanding and tough as nails. And yet many enduro athletes still had a big grin on their faces after seven or eight hours of racing - from March in Chile to October in Finale Ligure. This is probably why many former enduro racers are currently dedicating a big Instagram post to this year. Almost always with one laughing and one crying eye. Not everything was better in the past - but a lot of things felt more right.

In the years that followed, you changed more than ever before. Your creators demanded increasingly high amounts from the teams in order to be allowed to call themselves an Enduro World Series team. We Weekend Warriors either had to compete in qualifying races or settle for the EWS100 or EWS80 hobby categories. No, that wasn't the same, even if this change was perhaps necessary to some extent. But something else was much worse: they wanted to turn you into something you never were.

Dear Enduro, you are like the rally in motor racing: tough, complex, demanding and incredibly fascinating. But rally is not Formula 1, and you will never reach the level of cross-country or downhill. And that's perfectly fine. Your fans love you for who you are. If only your creators had recognized that. Instead, you were integrated into the UCI Mountain Bike World Series and thus placed under the umbrella of Warner Bros Discovery Sports. And it's all about money there. A lot of money. Money that is simply not available in this form in enduro racing. And instead of creating a healthy, financially viable microclimate for riders and teams, you've been milked dry. We both know the result: five official World Cup teams - what a shame!

You know, Enduro, that pains me. Not out of nostalgia, but because I'm convinced that things could have been different. And yet I still see a glimmer of hope. Individual races have recently returned to the way they used to be: long days on the bike, real tests for complete athletes. And yes, I also believe that you can still have an official World Cup series. But only if you have the courage to be yourself again. Maybe that means breaking away from Warner Bros Discovery Sports. Maybe it means becoming smaller in order to be more credible again. But it certainly means no longer allowing yourself to be bent.

Dear Enduro, you were never made to be maximal. You were honest. And that was and still is your greatest strength.