European champion Lisa Kloster: Overcoming pain to achieve her greatest success
Julian Wiemar
· 18.10.2026
Lisa Kloster has just come to the end of a special season, having won the European Championship title. At first, her participation in the decisive tour stop was even in doubt due to tendonitis. Nevertheless, she withstood the pressure and secured the title after finishing second at Brouwersdam. In this interview, she explains when she knew she’d done it, why some moves take years to master – and why, for her, friendship and competition aren’t mutually exclusive.
Lisa, you didn’t become European champion by winning the final heat, but after finishing second at Brouwersdam and a season in which everything fell into place. At what point did you realise: ‘This title is mine’?
Yes, finishing with a win would, of course, have been the coolest thing. But I’m still really happy with the result. Especially as I arrived at the Brouwersdam with tendonitis and had actually considered not taking part at all. I didn’t really want to risk making it worse and jeopardising my next trip as a result. That’s why I took it as easy as possible beforehand and wrapped my hand in a zinc bandage.
I went into my first heat to see just how well it actually worked. I was already in pain, but it was manageable. So I decided to carry on, hoping that I wouldn’t set my recovery back too much. Perhaps that’s why they weren’t exactly the best heats of my life, but I’m really happy that I was still able to fill my scorecards and ride so consistently.
Before the event, I’d also done a bit of maths to work out how far I’d need to go to win the title. Živa (Batis, Editor’s note) was just behind me in the rankings, and I had a rough idea of the results I needed. By the time the single elimination was over, things were already looking pretty good for me. When Bijou (Shahmirian, editor’s note) then overtook Živa in the double elimination, things became a bit less stressful for me. And then came my heat against Bijou, which I won. That’s when I knew: it’s in the bag now. I was just so happy and thought: ‘Brilliant, I’ve finally bagged this title!’
I did still have a slight worry about my hand, though: I hope I haven’t gone completely overboard this time. But thankfully, it’s looking quite alright so far.
I didn’t really want to take the risk, so I’d actually considered not going at all.
In Podersdorf, you won each of your heats by a wide margin. Despite this dominance, was there a moment when you wavered or thought: ‘This could still slip away from me’?
I actually felt quite confident in Podersdorf. I’d just come off a really good winter training session and was well prepared. In those light wind conditions, there was really only one question on my mind: are my board and sail big enough to get me planing? I’d brought a 4.8 Sailloft Air and my 87-litre Starboard iGnite with me. As I was quite a bit heavier than the other female riders, that’s always a concern in conditions like these.
I think what helped me most at this event was my experience in consistently filling my scorecards, even when there was little wind. Of course, I would have loved to show off my new power moves, but there simply wasn’t enough wind for that. Instead, I had to focus on what works in these conditions, and that went pretty well.
The Brouwersdam welcomed you with rain, chop and wind – perfect for 3.6 and 4.0 sails. In that crucial heat against Bijou, you pulled off a lovely skopu just before the end. What goes through your mind in those final seconds? Or does your body just take over at some point?
At Brouwersdam, choosing the right sail was really tricky. With the rain fronts coming through, the wind was constantly changing: from being completely underpowered with the big sail to using the 3.6 and being completely overpowered. That’s why I often opted for the larger sail, because in these conditions you could never be entirely sure what was coming next.
In that crucial heat against Bijou, I was absolutely determined to land another Skopu. The frustrating thing was that I’d been really on form with it during a competition on Karpathos in the summer, and there I’d actually always landed it cleanly and with plenty of power on the very first attempt. And now, all of a sudden, I needed several attempts. I found myself thinking: How can that be? In the summer you were nailing that move in every heat, and now it just won’t work?
At one point, I actually asked myself whether I should even give it another go. But I knew that I’d actually got the move pretty much down pat. So I thought to myself: Come on, with this much wind, it’s probably still the better option than trying a Switch Chachoo now. In the final seconds, you mainly look at the clock and think about what makes the most tactical sense. Because I’d crashed the Skopu more often than usual, I was already under a bit of pressure and ended up riding the heats a bit too frantically.
But even after the Skopu had landed, the tension wasn’t over yet. For me, it usually lingers until I know the result. So I drove back to shore, saw Elena there and asked her as she was carrying the fish ashore: “Well, was it enough?” She just replied, quite matter-of-factly: “Yeah, easy!” Only then did the tension really ease.
In 2024, as European runner-up, you were already very close to the title; in 2025, you were named ‘Most Improved’ rider – and now you’re right at the top. If you had to talk about the less photogenic parts of this journey: what was your lowest point, and were you perhaps ever closer to having doubts than anyone on the outside realised?
I haven’t actually had any major low points where I’ve fundamentally doubted windsurfing or myself. I simply love the sport too much. What really gets me down sometimes is when I want to learn a new manoeuvre and the same mistake creeps in year after year. With the Culo, it definitely took me five years before I finally nailed it. And with the Burner in particular, I’m a bit worried that the same thing might happen to me again.
There have also been moments, though, when I’ve wondered just how well life as a professional windsurfer actually fits in with the rest of my life. Some tour stops are announced at very short notice, and that makes planning difficult, especially when you also have to work, travel and somehow finance the whole thing on the side. In 2025, for example, I missed a tour stop because I couldn’t manage to fly there at such short notice. Windsurfing at the most beautiful spots sounds like a dream, of course, but organising the travel and everything else at such short notice can also be really stressful and frustrating.
Of course, competitions can also bring their fair share of low points. What helps me is that I’ve become much more relaxed over the years. When I was 18, I put an incredible amount of pressure on myself because I thought the results were soooo important. These days, I’m still ambitious and naturally want to win, but if things don’t go perfectly, it’s not the end of the world. I simply love windsurfing too much for that. And anyway, you can’t do any more than give it your all.
There were times when I wondered just how well life as a professional windsurfer actually fits in with the rest of my life.
Your repertoire has grown considerably in a short space of time. Which new move best sums up your season? Not necessarily the most beautiful or the most difficult, but the one that embodies the most frustration, perseverance and personal growth?
As I just said, it took me about five years to master the Culo… I think that in itself says a lot about how frustrating it was. So it’s all the more satisfying that I’ve been able to land it consistently ever since I finally got the hang of it.
But I’m also particularly proud of my Kabikuchi. I think it’s just a really stylish move. Last year on Naxos, I spent ages trying it out until Leon Struppeck gave me a crucial tip: I don’t just have to trim the sail, but also pull it back whilst in the air. Suddenly it worked – twice in a row! Since then, it’s been going better and better. The next challenge is to land the Kabikuchi even in rougher conditions and in competition.
It definitely took me five years to finally land the Culo.
Your season began at the boot in a noisy indoor arena, where you came second in the tow-in final and broke the tow-in Culo record. It ended outdoors in a fierce storm at the Brouwersdam with the European Championship title. Which Lisa feels more like you?
No doubt about it: 100 per cent strong winds! That’s always been my thing, ever since I went windsurfing in Leucate as a child. I just love it when there’s real pressure in the sail, when you’re flying across the water and feel that pressure and power with every move. That’s just the best feeling for me.
The boot exhibition hall is still cool, of course, precisely because of the crowd and the special atmosphere. It also helps you reach people who might not otherwise have much to do with windsurfing. But if I can choose where to get out on the water, I’d definitely go for the storm. The more wind, the better!
Maaike Huvermann is a rival, a training partner and a friend – and she faced you again in the final at Brouwersdam. How do you switch, within a matter of minutes, from laughing together and pushing each other on to thinking: ‘Now I want to beat you’? Are there moments when friendship makes the competition easier – and others when it makes it harder?
I don’t think I actually give it much thought during the heat that I’m competing against Maaike. I just try to achieve my best possible scores. Of course, I adapt my choice of tricks a little to suit the competition, but basically I focus on my own performance. And of course I want to beat her!
I think, psychologically speaking, it’s actually quite nice for me sometimes to be in the underdog position. Of course, I’m ambitious and want to compete with her, but if she ends up having the better heat, I can still be happy for her. And what really makes me happy is that she’s happy for me too.
At the after-party at the Brouwersdam, for example, there was a rather wild moment: Maaike had had T-shirts printed with my name, a picture of me and the words ‘Lisa Kloster – European Champion’. They’d all organised it in secret, handed them out and then put them on at the party. I had no idea, and suddenly everyone took off their jumpers and stood in front of me wearing these T-shirts. I was absolutely speechless! The fact that my rival had T-shirts printed like that to celebrate my title really says it all about our friendship.
Maaike had secretly had T-shirts printed with my name, a picture of me and the words ‘Lisa Kloster – European Champion’.
A few years ago, you said that, above all, you wanted to spend as much time as possible with your friends at good spots on the water – whether as a professional or not. Now you’re the European champion. Has this title changed the way you see yourself, or are you trying to ensure that the freedom you had back then doesn’t suddenly turn into an obligation to always have to win?
Actually, not much has changed at all. Of course, I’m absolutely delighted to be European champion now. Nobody can take that title away from me now! But my real goal is still to spend as much time as possible with my friends at the best spots in the world.
Competitions are, of course, a great extra incentive, because you can test yourself against others and push each other to achieve new heights. But I don’t want to put myself under pressure to always have to win. After all, we only live once, and I want to enjoy my time on the water rather than constantly thinking about what result I need to achieve next.
For me, there’s nothing better than learning new moves together, pushing each other on and just having a good time in between. When you finally land that one new trick and can share that moment with your mates, it’s just JACKPOT!
You might also find this interesting:
Julian Wiemar
Editor surf