How I Qualified for the Ironman World Championship While Working Full Time

About two years before that morning, my family relocated to the Philippines. When I realised there was an Ironman race three hours from our new home, I signed up without a second thought. I was already an experienced triathlete, with Israman, Ironman Austria and an Ultraman behind me.

Training in the Philippines turned out to be a different sport. Heat all year round, very high humidity, crowded roads and limited space to ride and run. Then the race was postponed three times. I ended up preparing for the same event for fifteen months, building to a peak three separate times.

Race day brought extreme conditions: 33°C and 95% humidity. My swim went exactly to plan. On the bike I held my target power, drank, ate and cooled myself at every aid station. On paper it was a perfect execution.

Then I started the run at half past two in the afternoon, with the sun directly overhead, and understood what I should have understood on the bike: the heat would not let me run the race I had planned. I told my wife to forget the times we had discussed. This was going to take a long time.

My pace was nowhere near the plan. Around me people were walking, sitting down and dropping out, and the thought of quitting started to creep in. The moment it arrived, I made a decision: I would cross the finish line, no matter how and no matter when. I ran and walked, kilometre after kilometre, and finished exhausted and disappointed.

Then someone handed me a phone with the results. Ninth in my age group. I had felt alone out there, as if I was the only one suffering. Everyone else had been suffering just as much.

The next morning a friend who had won his age group asked me to join him at the slot allocation ceremony. I did not really know how slots were allocated. Then the announcer said the sentence I will never forget: "Age group 40 to 44, you have nine slots." When my name was called I was not sure I had heard correctly. Minutes later I was registered for the World Championship in Kona.

If I had stopped on that run, none of it would have happened.

Fifteen months of training means early mornings, weekends away, a strict diet and a family that pays a real price. There were crises along the way, personal ones and in my relationship too. From the outside, this kind of routine can look self-centred.

What made it work was aligning expectations at home before the season started, agreeing on things together, and planning a detailed weekly schedule that included every session and also protected quality time with my family. I did not always succeed, but planning that time in advance was the foundation.

On long rides I think about work: processes, new ideas, creative solutions. On runs I think about my family and what I can do better. The ability to generate positive thoughts during long sessions is what keeps me consistent.

While training for Kona, my body was running the streets of Manila but my mind was in Hawaii, on the course, picturing every step toward the most famous finish line in the world.

Make the decision before the hard moment arrives. I did not decide to finish when I was comfortable; I decided at the exact point I wanted to quit. At work, the projects that matter most are finished by people who have already decided they will finish them.

Remember that everyone is fighting the same conditions. When a quarter feels brutal, it usually is brutal for your competitors too. The ones who keep moving gain ground.

Align expectations with the people who carry the load with you. In my case it was my family. At work it is your team, your manager and the people at home who absorb the cost of a demanding season.