My 108kg journey to the finish the Ironman :)

Four years ago, I was a different person. Literally. At 108 kg, I was more likely to run for the last samosa at a buffet than run a marathon. Ironman? That was just a superhero movie to me.

But life has a funny way of throwing curveballs. One lazy Sunday, scrolling through Instagram (probably while munching on chips), I saw an old college buddy finish a triathlon. Something clicked. Maybe it was a mid-life crisis, maybe it was divine intervention, but I thought, "If that idiot can do it, why can't I?"

The beginning was well, let's just say it wasn't pretty. My first run ended after 500 meters, wheezing like I'd climbed Everest. Swimming? I looked like a drunk elephant in water. And cycling? My ass didn't speak to me for a week after that first ride.

But slowly, things started to change. Kilos began to drop. Distances began to increase. I started to actually enjoy the burn in my muscles, the early morning swims, the long rides on weekends. Who was this person, and what had he done with the old me?

Then came my first half Ironman. Crossing that finish line felt like winning an Olympic gold. I was hooked. But the full Ironman? That was my Everest.

First attempt: DNF (Did Not Finish). Bonked hard at km 25 of the run. Spent the night questioning all my life choices.

Second try: Missed the bike cut-off by 10 minutes. Cried in my hotel room, feels horrible.

But something kept pulling me back. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was madness. Training became my second job. Early mornings, late nights, weekends - all dedicated to swim, bike, run. My family thought I'd lost it. Maybe I had.

October 2023. Goa. Ironman day. The cannon goes off, and we're in the water. 3.8 km of swimming, 180 km of biking, and a full marathon ahead. The day becomes a blur of sweat, pain, and sheer will.

But then, after what feels like a lifetime, I see it. The finish line. With wobbly legs and tears in my eyes, I cross it. 140.6 miles. 15 hours and 22 minutes. From 108 kg couch potato to Ironman finisher.

As I collapsed past the finish line, all I could think was, "I need a beer and a week-long nap."

Looking back, it wasn't just about the race. It was about the journey. The 5 AM alarms when I wanted to smash my phone. The rainy day runs when my couch was calling my name. The countless times I wanted to quit but didn't.

To anyone out there with a crazy dream - go for it. It's not about being the best. It's about being better than you were yesterday. And trust me, the view from the other side is worth every drop of sweat, every moment of doubt.

So here's to crazy goals, to pushing limits, and to becoming the person you never thought you could be. What's your Ironman?

Can't wait to do it again this next month 🏃🏻‍♂️‍➡️

P.S. Yes, I had that beer. And yes, it was the best damn beer of my life.